I should probably be in jail...

Of course, I always thought I was a good 4th grade teacher.  It wasn't until years later that I realized I had apparent criminal tendencies despite my good intentions.  That being said, the students were ecstatic about the process and the result.  So were the parents.  So perhaps I could get a pardon.

I had spent 180 days a year and 7 hours a day with each of child and considered them my kids.  Toward the end of each school year, it was time for a treat before sending them on their way.  I called it a science project with the kids but I don't think there is a science book published calling for making homemade, hand-cranked ice cream and homemade root beer.  But every year, that's exactly what we did to ring in the summer.

Before embarking on my career as Professor of Education, I happily taught 4th grade for 10 years.  Although I became somewhat bored with the political crap surrounding the job, I loved the time I spent with kids, particularly 9-10 year olds.  They are old enough to not need their boots buckled, coats zipped, and noses wiped but still curious about the world and all that is in it.  Nonetheless, as every kid in school did, the children were looking forward to the end of the school year and summer break dispite my magical wizardry as an elementary teacher.

In preparation for the shindig/science project, I first had the kids carefully measure all the ingredients--that was the "sciencey part."  Water, sugar, root beer extract, along with a tiny bit of yeast to naturally carbonate the drink.  We even had a math lesson on how to increase the recipe (i.e., mulitiplication) to make approximately 5 gallons--enough for the entire class with a tad left over.

As an aside, my father-in-law enjoyed his beer -- just 1-2 a day after work with a few pretzels listening to a Philadelphia Phillies baseball game on the radio.  In those days, soda and beer came in returnable bottles (with returnable deposit of course) because they were refillable.  Every so often he would get another case while returning the empties to the beer distributor.  I asked him to save me two cases (48 bottles) of empties.  The bottles had caps that had cork linings and were pressed and crimped securely on the bottle to keep them tightly sealed that you would pry off (no screw caps in those days).  The bottles then could be refilled by the brewery, recapped with new caps, and reused time and again.

So back to the recipe (ah, I mean science)...we would carefully mix all of the ingredients in a big vat borrowed from the cooks in the school cafeteria...all 5 gallons of it (...this was a class in home economics).  Basically old Hires root beer recipe on the box called for water, sugar, root beer extract you could buy in any grocery store (now technically a solution--see the science creeping in?) along with 1/2 teaspoon of  yeast (now a mixture in a solution).  Then, very carefully, we would pour it down a funnel the size of the Kilauea Volcano cone into a 5-gallon glass carboy -- one of the big glass water jugs in which people buy drinking water.  And finally, we would carefully put a small sandwich bag over the top to keep the dust out (held fast with a rubber band).  It was a work of art. 

As the root beer settled after it got over its irritation from being mixed up and the yeast finished adding flavor, we painstakingly transferred the mix into each of the 48 "sterilized" bottles by siphoning through a plastic tube so as to not disturb that puzzling sediment in the bottom (yet another lesson in science).  By this time the root beer was flat--no bubbles.  So, in order to encourage "bubble development" (aka fizz=CO₂, carbon dioxide), we would add just a bit of corn sugar to each bottle (maybe 1/4 teaspoon) --it's a vegetable, right?  I had a hand bottle capper along with a box of brand new cork-lined bottle caps and the production line would fill, dump the corn sugar in, place a cap on top, slide it to me to put the pressure on the bottle capper crimping the caps on tight.  Into the empty cases (2) each would go to "age" a little and get that root beery flavor just right with just enough fizz.

The next step in this wonderous journey was to store the two cases of 48-bottles of homemade root beer in a relatively warm, dark place for about 2-4 weeks for the root beer to "mellow."  For the first few years, this was in the utility crawl space under the floor of the building.  The kids were bursting with excitement and anticipation.  And, so they should have been.  It was a "science" project no other class in the building (perhaps even the school district or the world) embarked upon at the end of the school year.  It was legendary.  Epic.

Near the end of the time required for the "science project" to have mellowed, we started making plans for the end-of-the-year celebration -- homemade ice cream.  Now for those of you younger folks who go to Dairy Queen, ice cream didn't simply ooze out of a machine.  No, these hand-crankers were ingenious contraptions that required the ice cream mix to be made at home, and then, we used lots of ice, rock salt, and plenty of 4th grade determination until they could no longer turn the crank.  Each was fascinated to watch the drum go round and round and were anxious for their turn to take charge.  Once all the little ones were exhausted, it was time to party !  The root beer had been cooling in the cafeteria refrigerators for a day or two (probably wouldn't have been passed by the health inspector) and retrieved for the big event.  Finally, the ice cream was served; each student got a bottle of root beer and the festivities were enjoyed by all.  In fact, it is likely that every single teacher in the building including the cooks and janitor snuck into the back of my room that afternoon to sample our science project !

Afterward, I'd shuffle the little buggers off on the school bus and away they went back home happy with wide grins.  They got no homework that night so I suspected that accounted for the smiling faces and they filed out of the room heading for home.  Now, it made me feel really good that many parents took the time to write me such kind notes the next morning.  "Johnny came home happier than I've seen him in a long time.  Thank you so much for your kindness in providing such a wonderful end-of-year celebration."  "Suzy was smiling the whole evening.  She couldn't stop talking." And so on and on.  The parents loved it.

I did this almost every year.  Now, it wasn't until a few years after I left teaching and was in graduate school that I discovered the art of making your own beer.  Full-time grad students are typically broke so it was more cost effective to make your own beer and wine.  I did some reading.  The presence of two ingredients, sugar and yeast, produces not one but two biproducts.  These hard working unsung heros of the homebrew world while quietly feasting on sugar, both blow CO₂ yeast farts (causing the carbonation in the beer and also release alcohol into the mixture.  As I came to understand the simple process of beer and wine making the dim light bulb started to glow. 

While the rootbeer was sitting in it's warm dark place "aging" for 2-4 weeks the yeast were simply exhausted.  When we added that little bit of corn sugar to each bottle, the little factories came back to life and produced "fizz."  As we now know, it wasn't just bubbles.  Simply put, I'm pretty sure I got every kid in my class drunk...well, maybe not drunk but just a little tipsy.  Then sent them home to their parents just a tad under the influence.  No wonder I always received such nice notes.  The parents (or me for that matter) had no idea I sent them home parents slightly crocked.  

Somewhere, after hearing this confession, I have little doubt an arrest warrant is being written at this very moment.  If you want to contact me, I'll be in a country with no extradition treaty !