I could hardly wait to start school. When I did get to go skipping along between my big brothers, it was an exciting and happy day in my life. I knew I’d love it and I did.
I don’t remember my age when the word school first became a part of my vocabulary. I couldn’t have been very old. I do remember the many times Fluff, our little white dog, and I sat on the window seat, under the East window in the living room, watching for the boys to come around the corner by Schumaker’s house – about half a block away. They’d be with others, pushing and shoving each other, laughing and running. They were all coming home from that mysterious somewhere called “school.” I thought it must be the most wonderful place in the whole world.
On one such day, as Fluff jumped down to go sit by the front door, I went into the kitchen and asked Mom,
“Where’s school?”
“At the schoolhouse,” she said.
“Can Fluff and I go there?” I questioned.
“Not Fluff, but one day yu can,” she replied.
From that moment on, school was on my mind a lot.
Of course, I heard a great deal about it, before I ever got there. The next few months were punctuated with various bits of information. My brothers took great pleasure in filling me in, from their vast knowledge of happenings. It got so I didn’t even have to ask. I’m amazed I don’t remember a nightmare or two.
Announcements like, Mrs. Godon, the first and second grade teacher, kept a rubber hose on her desk. Anyone could see it. It was right there in plain sight when you went up to the blackboard. While I was wondering just what kind of a board was black, and why I’d be going up to it, they told me this hose was used, whenever necessary, for bad little girls. Those words really sunk in and I intended to avoid that rubber hose situation for sure!
They mentioned how some kids got sent to the principal’s office, for various reasons, none of them good. This office sat at the top of some stairs, beyond the stars that went up to the high school.
The stairs to high school were higher than the ones to the upstairs in our house, the boys said. I couldn’t imagine how much higher that would be. Still, this principal’s place was even higher than that. I wondered if he looked like God, or maybe he knew Him real well. I never asked anybody, but I thought about that a lot, too.
I did have other input, however. The rest of the family assured me that I would have no trouble, and that, much to my delight, not only would I be learning to read, but there would be other interesting and fun things to learn and do.
All of this mystery ran around and around in my head, and I could hardly contain myself.? Especially since, as I’d gotten older, I’d been allowed to go to school with the boys on certain party occasions.? ?I’d actually seen the stairs that went up to the high school.? There was one flight and then you turned the corner and there was another flight.? Though I never went up them, It looked a long way up there to me.?
One time I was allowed to go to a school party with my cousin Jack.? He was probably in the third grade, and I was about five years old.? We were sitting together at his desk and he raised his hand.? When the teacher called on him, he stood up, pulling me up beside him and said,
is my cousin, Lena Marie, and she’s dressed all in white.”? I felt embarrassed and I’m sure my face looked very red above all that white.? I didn’t recognize the compliment being payed then.? When I think of that spisode today, It brings a chuckle, for Jack grew into a fastidious man who enjoys being well dress and appreciates the same in others.
Constantly, I begged my folks about going to school, and in due time, mom went to se Mr. M. J. Horner, the principal, and asked if I culd be allowed to start that fall, even though I wouldn’t e six until September 23.? It was decided I could attend, and I was so happy, I didn’t even ask her about the man himself and his high place.
I finally became one of Mrs. Godon’s many first graders, non of whom ever felt the touch of that rubber hose.? Though she never introduced it to us, it truly was there for anyone to see.? A small, piece of light, almost white colored, rubber hose, about one half inch thick and maybe a foot long, la curled up on one side of her desk.? At first, much discussion about the dreaded thing took place at recess, but soon, though a healthy respect remained, its prominence faded some, as the playground became more interesting.? In time, when my classmates and I got into higher grades, it became our great pleasure to inform all future first graders, with in earshot, of this phenomenon.? Suffice to say, Mrs. Godon, never had a discipline problem in any of her classes.? Also, after some time, my awe of the principal and his office tempered.
Not only did I love school, but I loved the schoolhouse.? I’d heard so much about it and had seen only limited portions of it.? Two stories high, with some brick on the outside, it was the biggest building in town.? This first grader was impressed.? Each day it held something new for me to see and learn about.
Everything that could be, was made of various types and shades of wood, right down to the floors,? Its classrooms, hallways and stairways with their heavy banisters, were all so solid, safe and important looking.? A certain smell permeated the rooms and halls.? It came from the sawdust compound Audie Hays, the janitor, used to sweep the wood floors.
All grad school classrooms were on the ground floor.? They each had one wall with windows, so they had good light.? When our classroom door closed new world opened up.? One with a big blackboard, desks, heat radiators, where we put our mittens to dry on wet or snowy days, and most important of all, a teacher.
The second floor housed the high school.? Then there was the basement.? The girls and boys lockers and lavatories were there.? The first time I went down into that dark basement, I was a little hesitant, but after entering school myself, I became comfortable enough to look around.? I knew about the boiler room that kept our school warm, and where it was.? This, of course, was a place not to be, but I couldn’t resist peeking in there once in a while, though I never really understood all the strange equipment I saw.
In addition, the schoolhouse had a Gym.? This seemed a very big room to me as a first grader.? Audie was very protective of this room and the Gym floor always shone.? We made sure our shoes were clean when we walked on that floor, for we knew he was always close by to check on us.? Along with the basketball games, all school plays were held in the Gym.? It amazed me the first time I saw the stage, which seemed to have magically appeared out of nowhere.
By degrees, school became a customary part of my life.? I enjoyed the atmosphere and activity, but like my classmates, there were classes I preferred over others, and days I’d rather done something else.? As I moved through the grades, I can’t say that I loved every day of it, but I can say, most of the time, I liked it.? I didn’t find it difficult to adhere to the routine.? I looked forward to the Summer recess as much as the next one, but when Fall arrived school became interesting again.
I attended all twelve grades in that schoolhouse, and besides my education, I have the delightful memories of a host of school friends and some of the escapades we shared.? Mrs. Godon and M. J. Horner were there some years before I started and remained several years after I left.? How often I’ve laughed to myself about the status I gave Mr. Horner, especially when I reached high school and heard some of the boys jokingly refer to him as “Marvin Johnny.”
Audie Hays, janitored there forever, I think.? I went to school with two of his girls.? I don’t remember how long he remained after I left, but I do know he must have loved that schoolhouse to have taken such good care of it.
During my last year of high school, when I could hardly wait to go on to other things, I knew I would miss my school days in that notable old building, with its weathered wood and special smell.? Along with all the other benefits, it was there I learned that life is a school, and one should never quit learning.
Today, Othello has a large modern high school and more than one grade school.? The old schoolhouse has been gone for many years.? I marvel at what is being offered to the children living there now, in the way of education, and the facilities they are privileged to attend.? If I could make a wish for them, it would be that the memories of their early years of formal learning be as filled with pleasure and happiness as mine are.