School Days

We lived down a long lane in the country. In the mornings we left home early to catch the school bus. We couldn’t be late! Our school bus driver, Mr. Moody, had a second job which he went to after his bus route. He expected promptness. We all called him “Woody” which was a no-no in those days. It was Mr, Mrs, or Miss. The bus route was long, severs miles, and the bus was usually cold. There was a heater right next to the driver, but the kids who were picked up first blocked the heat from getting back to the rest of us.

It seems to me that the winters were longer and harder and colder then, than now. Some days our school furnace broke down, and we wore our coats in class. There was a big coal heap out back which was forbidden territory and someone was usually on it. The maintenance man wheeled the coal into the furnace inside of the building. The ashes from the furnace made a nice pile for the boys to play on. The maintenance man got the same respect as the teachers. It was “Mr!”

I loved that old school building. It was a two-story with seven classrooms. By the time I finished 8th grade, I had been in every room. The teachers I remember most were Miss Holt, Mr. Nesbitt, and Miss Beatty. In high school, I treasure the memories of Mrs. Schelsky who gave me straight “A’s” in English and Mrs. Schomer, who encouraged me to write.

The old school has been torn down for many years. If I am home and go by the old school, I think about those days, though they were decades ago. The things you got in trouble for were chewing gum—Oh my, you never wanted to get chewing gum! The other things were talking in class and getting out of line.

I only remember one time getting in trouble at school. Yes, there were bullies around in those days. There was one boy named John—we girls called him John Evil because he bullied us all the time. No other boys came to our rescue. In those days, one of the worst things you could be called was a “tattletale.” We never told on him. I believe this was about the 4th grade. One day we girls had just had it with John Evil’s evil ways. It took seven or eight of us, and we took him down one recess. We pounded him to a pulp. Guess what! He tattled on us! We were in trouble!! I can’t remember our punishment—maybe cleaning blackboards or missing recess. And of course there were the inevitable notes from school to parents. My parents didn’t chide me. They were glad I had the courage to take up for myself! Have I lost the respect of my friends over this?? But John Evil never bothered us again!!!

I remember the emphasis on property English, and it is with me to this day. I can almost feel Miss Beatty looking over my shoulder as I preach or teach in a church. I wonder what she would think of today’s common vernacular, when every third word in a conversation is “like”—sorry, just one of my personal peeves.

Back then it was ok to talk about Jesus in school. Once in awhile we even had a Bible story. In high school, we had baccalaureate. when the local pastors came and held a religious service on the Sunday before graduation, for the seniors and their families. Do any of you seasoned citizens remember this?

Those days and memories are so ingrained in me now. I truly cherish those days. Teachers, parents, pastors and aunts and uncles made a difference. I ask myself often—have I? They taught me love, respect, joy, hope, and Jesus. Proverbs 22:6: “Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old, he will not depart from it.” Proverbs 17:6: “Children’s children are the crown of old men, and the joy of children are their fathers.”