Dean and I began school at the age of five in a two-room schoolhouse. It was built of brick with two rooms and a hall beside each for our coats. The town was Pence and we rode to school in a big yellow bus. The “Little Room” contained four rows of desks; the-all-in-one kind with holes at the top for ink bottles and a groove for our pencils. The first grade desks were small to fit our small bodies with each row having bigger desks. We idolized the fourth graders in their big desks and with their vast knowledge.
All children brought lunches in brown paper bags or tin lunch boxes. Not much swapping went on for everyone brought the same basics. Peanut butter or bacon sandwiches with an apple or dried fruit depending on the season. Water was available from a large a tin bucket with a tin ladle and all children drank from it. I do not remember an unreasonable amount of sickness; perhaps we were immunized to one another by a commingling of germs! An iron stove provided heat in the winter and the facilities were outside labeled boys and girls. The idea of privacy then was a wooden fence around three sides of the outhouse blocking a view of the door. A play yard held a swing and slide set and a small field for playing ball. Our favorite games were blind man’s bluff, red rover and tag with hide and seek a close second.
We were taught phonics, (which I credit for my ability to spell and pronounce almost any word), math, which I loved then, and reading. Dick and Jane, Spot and baby Sally were immediate friends. “See Spot. See Spot run” was my introduction to the written word. We had been told stories and read to since toddler hood, but now I got to read by myself! It was wonderful. Dean and I both had the first book read long before the teacher started another. Mary Sloan was teacher in the Little Room and was the perfect white-haired woman to instruct young children. She was loving and giving and wonderfully affirming. Mrs. Zimmerman was the stern mistress of the Big Room and we were all a bit wary of her. Later, at Judyville, I had her for math and found her to be strict but reasonable.
One reason for the success of those early learning environments was the opportunity for children to hear other classes recite and listen to their instruction. By the time we left that room we had heard all the lessons for four grades for four years. We were not taught as a group so the younger were not expected to know what the older ones knew. We were expected to sit quietly and do our assignment and not interrupt the class being taught. But if we finished our assignment quickly enough, we could listen to the older or younger classes. Those who were quick learners had everything but the textbooks within their reach and those who learned more slowly had four years to learn the basics as well as their new work.
I remember the excitement with which I learned my first ‘big’ word. The teacher had written ‘SOMEWHERE’ on the blackboard while teaching an older class. I was fascinated. What did the word say? What did it mean? I wrote it on my yellow tablet. I tried to sound it out. But it was very long for a first grader. Finally, the teacher pronounced it. I knew a long word! And I knew how to spell it even after she erased it. I had captured it on my yellow tablet. I truly believe that was the start of my love affair with words.
They gave achievement tests back then and most of our class ranked at least two grades above the average. Dean and I, Johnny Davis, Jim Brown and Beverly Ritter were reading at a sixth grade level by the time we reached third grade. When the ‘country kids’ got to high school we were consistently on the honor roll. The town kids had gone through elementary school in single large classrooms and knew only what they could retain for one year. We may have been hayseeds, but we were smart!
I never got to study in the Big Room. Our family moved across the township line when we were ready to enter fifth grade and we then attended Judyville School. It was larger than Pence, had two stories and single classrooms, but we had had our preparatory work at Pence and we were ready for the big time! Within a year or two there was a consolidation and Pence was absorbed into Judyville. My classmates were back! And several of us continued on together through high school. We rode the bus together, gossiped about our parents and classmates, swooned at the thought of the high school boys, and shared secrets with one another. .
Here at Judyville we had combined classes for music. There was a large room on the second floor with a stage and a piano. Big windows gave it a sunny disposition at all times. Our music teacher traveled between two schools to teach and was at Judyville three days a week. We sang out of the old yellow books with songs like “John Jacob Jingelhimer Smith”, “Old Folks at Home”, “Beautiful Dreamer”, “America the Beautiful”, and “Battle Hymn of the Republic”. I’m sure they were not all politically correct but they were ours. Dean and I were in the habit of singing for Church and various meetings. He sang soprano and I sang alto. At least that was the arrangement until his voice changed. We still sang but now I sang soprano and he sang bass. Music was a big part of our lives during the school years.
