On the Girl’s side of Feller, our outside boundaries were: the length of the girls side of the building from the curb of the road, all the way back to the end of the girl’s side of the school, (maybe 150 feet); and the width ran from the side wall of the school, to the Meldrum’s driveway. (Maybe 75 feet). With permission, we were also allowed to walk along the farm road directly in front of the school, as far as the tree. (Maybe 300 feet), well within the range of the sights of the binoculars trained on the walker. I know, first hand about the binoculars, because upon my return from the first walk to the tree, (day three of my arrival) I was chastised for stopping and smoking a cigarette.

On particular days, at certain times, we were permitted, accompanied by a member of Feller staff, to go to the store and, on Sundays, we were forced to attend church. Oh, and let us not forget the "walk" on Sunday up the road with a chaperone.

Inside, we had our bedroom, the bathroom, the classroom, the gym (only on gym days or basketball practice) the chapel, and the kitchen (only for meals or k.p. duty). Period. Amen.

Sport was basketball. Gym was running, (and most girls had their period during gym so run they didn’t).

Social events on Saturday nights, referred to ironically as soirees, were mostly movies, (censored for sex and bad language). This was the favorite because the girls and boys got to sit together and "scratch". Once a month, there would be a boy’s basketball exhibition game with the girls panting over the sweaty bodies on the top balcony. I can still smell the rank body odor and hear the squawk of running shoe-on-floor. The only other events I can remember are the Junior and Senior exhibitions and initiations and various put-ups for Christmas and Thanksgiving. Whoops, I almost forgot graduation! Land of Hope and Glory and all that - another use for that damn white dress.

Extra curricular activities included CGIT, although I got booted out of that for smoking; not "cherishing health" as the motto required. I soon found many of my colleagues getting the heave-ho once they found a way dodge it legally (or illegally as the case may be). It wasn’t fun anyway, because it was really a health class on sex and the abstinence thereof. The girls knew more than the teachers - or at least they thought they did.

Students were encouraged to audition for the choir (I failed that due to tone deafness) and, if your parents had the cash, one could become proficient in the pianoforte. (I was also "finger challenged" so this fell through for me too.)

I was at loose ends almost all the time!

This lack of physical outlet and need of alone time was as dangerous as an aerosol can in an incinerator. Guaranteed to explode. And blow up it did.

Most knockdown drag-out fights took place in the bathroom. This was because it was the only fully integrated gathering place on the floor and, the only place with enough mirror to see ones self in. Now, for the men who are reading this, you have to understand what happens when a girl looks in a mirror. No scientist with a microscope inspects his work with the same eye to detail as a girl looks at her face and figure in a mirror - zits, freckles, bad hair day, PMS bloating, weight gain, yellow teeth, puffy eyes, (the list is endless) are enough to send a girl into a demonic rage, and God help you if you are in her path of destruction.

All a person had to do was brush against someone, or make an ambiguous comment like "you’re in a mood today", and the gauntlet was dropped! Hands reached for hair as the first line of defense, after that it was on the floor, kicking and screaming with the gallery in a circle around, cheering on their favorite. The air was blue with profanity and occasionally, the spectators were moved to attack each other for supporting the wrong side. Eventually some adult would run in and break up the melee. Everyone was required to return to their room and a "confined to bed area" detention was handed out to all in the bathroom at the time. With luck, it was not your roommate you were fighting with.

This (almost) daily event was, in fact, a blessing. It gave the girls excerise, (all that cheering and jumping up and down) and it allowed for merciful venting. As a spectator of at least 50 good fights, no one was seriously hurt and most quarrels percolated on the back burner until revenge was gained and face was restored. Generally, fights were fair, in that there was no ganging up or (God forbid) face scratching. Now and again a nail got broken and knees were scratched and the injured party wallowed in the cluck clucking of her support group for a brief period.

As for me, I was incensed by the unfairness of it all. I would stand on the senior’s balcony and look out over the huge expanse of the Feller farm and outbuildings. I could see boys running and playing all over the place. There were tennis courts, swings, teeter-totters, hockey rinks and plenty of room to get up a scrub game of baseball or soccer. I am told that there was even a pond for fishing. They had endless opportunities to safely smoke, they had the run of the gym, the prestige of the Cadets, and they played hockey, basketball, curling, baseball and lacrosse. They got to go on outings. They could visit the store. They had it all! We were prisoners in the real sense. Always being watched, never alone, nothing to do, even an iron door for heaven’s sake.

Our whole world revolved around our circle of friends, our feuds and revenge taking on our enemies, and the boys on the other side of the steel wall.

When I read the stories from the Boy’s perspective, I realize there was a different kind of world on the other side of the Iron door and I am envious of their experiences compared to mine.

I think that is why I never really sought out Feller and the company of my fellow prisoners after I left. Even looking back 45 years later I have strong feelings of umbrage and bitterness at the inequality of the options for the Feller girls and the inability of the girls’ representatives on the student council to effect any changes. We had no champions, no hero, and no court of appeal. Thank God we had each other!