If this REALLY is teacher appreciation day (I approach the concept with a bit of skepticism since facebook seems to have a “something” day every day of the week) I need to blog about the many individuals who helped shape my life and my personality and truly express my gratitude for each and every one of them. So here goes … in no particular order.
Mrs. Ethel Horton – my first grade teacher and the epitome of the benevolent schoolmarm. She was, to put it mildly, the standard by which all who would follow were to be measured. She was also the school music teacher and a very good piano player. I can still remember the spelling and pronunciation tests, having trouble as I did pronouncing the word “want”. I learned how to be an indian giver in this class, taking all my new creepy crawlers to school one day with the idea we could all play with them during recess, and then I would take them back home. Needless to say I had a lot of trouble getting them back from my classmates! Occasionally Mrs. Horton would take the class upstairs and we would listen to music tapes on this old “Voice of Music” reel to reel tape deck. I sat there and tried to comprehend this device, trying to decide whether it just stored sound or could store the notes and play them back at will. So thank you, Mrs. Horton, not only for all you did and taught, but also for my lifelong fascination with audio (and later video) recording.
Mrs. Rebecca Seivers.
Mrs. Seivers was the nicest lady and a member of our church. She was probably the only teacher able to “out-nice” Mrs. Horton. I remember few details of this class, but one item does stand out. My vocabulary was quite good by this point and our story time book was “Charlotte’s Web”, so she would often call on me to read to the class, since I didn’t pause on the difficult words. I also remember skipping the exercise time and repeating my multiplication tables over and over. It was a wonderful year, so I thank you, Mrs Seivers, for all you did. (and I was very impressed that your husband was named Abraham Lincoln Seivers!)
Mrs. Virginia Burress (later Croft).
Mrs. Croft was the school physical education teacher. At some point during the week all the classes would be taken to the old gymnasium, and we would all “get under our number”, which was written on a small piece of masking tape and placed on the wall every foot and a half or so. We did everything, sit-ups, push-ups, arm circles, tumbling on the mats, and even softball out back of the school. I remember going into the gym to the left and down the steps through a small storage room underneath this giant gas heater that always had flames inside it. I was always scared that it would burn down the school, but it never did, so we dodged a bullet there. One thing I did not know about Mrs. Croft was the fact that her best friend in high school was Clarice Wallace, who just happened to be my sister-in-law. I could never figure out how mom seemed to find out about EVERYTHING I did at school until much later. So thank you Mrs. Croft, for all those wonderful gym memories (and all those paddlings I got at home, seemingly never able to get away with anything).
Mrs. Opal Fritts.
What can I say about Mrs. Fritts? My next door neighbor Tom had me convinced I was going to die on the first day of fourth grade, but of course I didn’ t. She was a very demanding teacher, and I went with the flow for about three weeks until we settled into a two-and-a-half hour nightly homework routine. I quickly decided I simply wasn’t going to do it, and spent the next nine months with mediocre grades because of it. My standard tests that year came back mostly in the 99 percentile range, so I wonder how she reconciled that. I had Mrs. Fritts in fourth and sixth grade, and don’t know how I got through it all, but I obviously learned SOMETHING. So thank you Mrs. Fritts, if for nothing else showing me that if I could make it through your classes, I could make it through anything!
Mrs. Marie Watlington
Mrs. Watlington was always nice to me, and she quickly became my favorite teacher in the older kids pod where we changed classes for different teachers with each subject. She left the classroom not to return after a few months, and she was replaced by our nemesis substitute, Mrs. Mildred Cross. Mom and I ran into Mrs. Watlington by accident the next spring at Cas Walker’s store, and mom found out through casual conversation that she had cancer. She died not long after that and was buried in the cemetery on Bethel Valley road at the turn to Oak Ridge, so RIP Mrs. Watlington. Mrs. Cross taught the math classes for the remainder of the year. So thank you Mrs. Watlington for being so nice to me and thank you Mrs. Cross for being so effective.
Mrs. Ruth Grizzle
Mrs Grizzle was my kindergarten teacher the summer prior to first grade. I remember so much about that class, the numbered circles on the floor, the finger painting, the big TV on the rolling cart that was always tuned to WSJK TV channel 2 Sneedville TN, and being told not to pick our nose and eat the snot. I really wanted Mrs. Grizzle in third grade, but was extremely disappointed not to get her class. I think she retired from teaching and ran a motel in Gatlinburg in her later years. Thank you Mrs. Grizzle for getting it all started.
And thank you Mrs. Nelson and the cafeteria staff for those wonderful rolls, that icy cold Norris milk, and most of those wonderful meals (I didn’t eat on the days we had mac and cheese, black eyed peas, chilled peeled tomatoes, and cornbread), but on certain days I did convince more than one gullible classmate to give me their cornbread so they could go back for seconds with an empty plate (on those days the “cornbread” was really cake)!
More to come …
Tuesday, May 8, 2018
Wednesday, December 14, 2016
LAST SCHOOL DAY BEFORE CHRISTMAS
In the late 1960s, Claxton Tennessee was a wonderful place in which to grow up. The centerpiece of the community was an old brick schoolhouse originally built in 1915, with a large classroom building added in 1950 and a cafeteria in 1955. A playground and football field put finishing touches on the 21 acre campus. When I started there in 1965, a new classroom pod was being planned at the right rear of the building, and extra swing sets were being added to the playground.
From the day after Labor Day until the day before Memorial Day, for nine months of the year, many personalities were shaped and molded by the activities in that school. Each day I caught the school bus around 7:30 and made the daily trek to school. Sometimes it was icy cold outside, and that cold wind would always blow right down the valley past my bus stop. I finally figured out that my house was situated on a hill at just the right angle to allow me to look out the bathroom window and see the school bus coming down the road for three stops before mine. If I waited there until I saw it, I would have just enough time to walk down the driveway and catch the bus without waiting in the cold wind. We rode the rickety old A-6 bus driven by Kelly Lewis, an elder at our church. I can still see the yellow lights flashing, hear the plop of the doors and the WNOX morning show on the old car radio Kelly had installed in that bus. Since mine was one of the last two stops, I usually got to stand up for the ride to school, although it wasn’t bad; it was only about 5 minutes.
When we got to school, the bus would pull up the curved driveway and stop short of the first door to let us out. There was always a group of older kids standing outside waiting for a bus to take them on to the junior and senior high schools in Clinton, about 5 miles away. They would load the bus after we unloaded and got out of the way. We went on up the steps and in one of the 5 doors to see a giant clock hanging on the wall next to the principal’s office. If we needed any paper or pencils, there was a bookstore set up in the teacher’s lounge across from the office. Then it was on down the hall to the classroom, put the coats in the assigned locker at the rear of the room, put the books and homework in the storage bin below the desk seat, and wait for the day to begin.
Sometimes the teacher would take up the lunch money before class. The school was located in the same county as the Oak Ridge government complexes and taught many of the children of the Oak Ridge workers, so there was a handy government subsidy to cover the cost of the lunches. We made a token payment for lunch, but it was only something on the order of 15 to 20 cents a day. Around 8:15 AM the intercom always came on with the daily announcements, then we would start the day by standing for the pledge of allegiance to the flag, and yes it was always under God. Our fourth grade teacher went a step further and had each of us recite a bible verse. Several of the boys would always cop out with the “Jesus Wept” verse, but she never complained, only gave them “the eye”. I don’t think that would get past the censors nowadays.
I don’t remember the actual details, but we might start the morning session with the English book, passing up the prior day’s homework assignment. She might lecture for awhile and call some of us to the blackboard to write sentences. Some of the class learned to write well with repeated “I will not talk in class” sentences. We might take notes for the next day’s chapter in the book and the inevitable homework assignment that would come with it. Then we would put the English book away and bring out the History book and repeat the process. We might finish History and start working on the Science or Health books. Sometimes we would go upstairs into the old building for Music or Gym class. We would usually put whatever book we were working with away and have a little quiet time just before lunch. I remember watching the room clock tick the minutes and the seconds down to lunch time and recess time on good weather days. Those were the longest minutes and seconds of my life.
When the time came, we got up row by row and went out in the hall, then went to the head of the lunchroom stairs, and lined up in single file. When the teacher arrived, we followed her down the two flights of stairs and the landing to the lunchroom. We entered the lunchroom, pulled a brown tray from the rack, and picked up our pint of milk from the cooler. The cooler was icy cold, and a milk carton taken from its edge would always be somewhat frozen if you liked it better that way. Then we passed the silverware containers and got our knife, fork, and spoon, and went on to the counter.
There was one day of the year that I really looked forward to that school lunch. It was the Wednesday of the week before Christmas Holiday. We knew we would get out of school early after lunch and have the rest of that week and the week of Christmas and the New Year off. We would also get a special Christmas Present from the lunchroom staff. Mrs. Nelson always gave us our main course, and for Christmas it was a Hamburger! The next lady piled on the French Fries! For those that wanted it, there was a slice of tomato and onion for the burger, and the lady at the dessert station gave us an apple and an orange! Then we went to our assigned seating area. When the teacher finished and saw everyone else was finished, she would motion for us to follow. We all got up and went around the outside perimeter of the lunchroom to the tray return station, separated our silverware and gave our tray and plate to the worker, who emptied them into the trash can and stacked them for washing. The trash always got burned just outside the cafeteria.
Then it was back in line at the lunchroom exit door, up the two flights of stairs, and back up the hall to our room. On those Wednesdays the busses would already be lined up outside and the dismissal bell would ring at 1PM. It didn’t take very long at all for us to load those busses and finish the exciting ride home to a two week Christmas vacation from school. It was truly the best of the best of times, and we all had a Merry, Merry Christmas.
Have a Merry, Merry Christmas.
The Community Icon, Claxton School
From the day after Labor Day until the day before Memorial Day, for nine months of the year, many personalities were shaped and molded by the activities in that school. Each day I caught the school bus around 7:30 and made the daily trek to school. Sometimes it was icy cold outside, and that cold wind would always blow right down the valley past my bus stop. I finally figured out that my house was situated on a hill at just the right angle to allow me to look out the bathroom window and see the school bus coming down the road for three stops before mine. If I waited there until I saw it, I would have just enough time to walk down the driveway and catch the bus without waiting in the cold wind. We rode the rickety old A-6 bus driven by Kelly Lewis, an elder at our church. I can still see the yellow lights flashing, hear the plop of the doors and the WNOX morning show on the old car radio Kelly had installed in that bus. Since mine was one of the last two stops, I usually got to stand up for the ride to school, although it wasn’t bad; it was only about 5 minutes.
When we got to school, the bus would pull up the curved driveway and stop short of the first door to let us out. There was always a group of older kids standing outside waiting for a bus to take them on to the junior and senior high schools in Clinton, about 5 miles away. They would load the bus after we unloaded and got out of the way. We went on up the steps and in one of the 5 doors to see a giant clock hanging on the wall next to the principal’s office. If we needed any paper or pencils, there was a bookstore set up in the teacher’s lounge across from the office. Then it was on down the hall to the classroom, put the coats in the assigned locker at the rear of the room, put the books and homework in the storage bin below the desk seat, and wait for the day to begin.
A 1950s era classroom with desks, lockers, bulletin boards, and asbestos tile, Claxton School
Sometimes the teacher would take up the lunch money before class. The school was located in the same county as the Oak Ridge government complexes and taught many of the children of the Oak Ridge workers, so there was a handy government subsidy to cover the cost of the lunches. We made a token payment for lunch, but it was only something on the order of 15 to 20 cents a day. Around 8:15 AM the intercom always came on with the daily announcements, then we would start the day by standing for the pledge of allegiance to the flag, and yes it was always under God. Our fourth grade teacher went a step further and had each of us recite a bible verse. Several of the boys would always cop out with the “Jesus Wept” verse, but she never complained, only gave them “the eye”. I don’t think that would get past the censors nowadays.
I don’t remember the actual details, but we might start the morning session with the English book, passing up the prior day’s homework assignment. She might lecture for awhile and call some of us to the blackboard to write sentences. Some of the class learned to write well with repeated “I will not talk in class” sentences. We might take notes for the next day’s chapter in the book and the inevitable homework assignment that would come with it. Then we would put the English book away and bring out the History book and repeat the process. We might finish History and start working on the Science or Health books. Sometimes we would go upstairs into the old building for Music or Gym class. We would usually put whatever book we were working with away and have a little quiet time just before lunch. I remember watching the room clock tick the minutes and the seconds down to lunch time and recess time on good weather days. Those were the longest minutes and seconds of my life.
An old 1915 era classroom with the steam radiators, Claxton School
When the time came, we got up row by row and went out in the hall, then went to the head of the lunchroom stairs, and lined up in single file. When the teacher arrived, we followed her down the two flights of stairs and the landing to the lunchroom. We entered the lunchroom, pulled a brown tray from the rack, and picked up our pint of milk from the cooler. The cooler was icy cold, and a milk carton taken from its edge would always be somewhat frozen if you liked it better that way. Then we passed the silverware containers and got our knife, fork, and spoon, and went on to the counter.
There was one day of the year that I really looked forward to that school lunch. It was the Wednesday of the week before Christmas Holiday. We knew we would get out of school early after lunch and have the rest of that week and the week of Christmas and the New Year off. We would also get a special Christmas Present from the lunchroom staff. Mrs. Nelson always gave us our main course, and for Christmas it was a Hamburger! The next lady piled on the French Fries! For those that wanted it, there was a slice of tomato and onion for the burger, and the lady at the dessert station gave us an apple and an orange! Then we went to our assigned seating area. When the teacher finished and saw everyone else was finished, she would motion for us to follow. We all got up and went around the outside perimeter of the lunchroom to the tray return station, separated our silverware and gave our tray and plate to the worker, who emptied them into the trash can and stacked them for washing. The trash always got burned just outside the cafeteria.
Then it was back in line at the lunchroom exit door, up the two flights of stairs, and back up the hall to our room. On those Wednesdays the busses would already be lined up outside and the dismissal bell would ring at 1PM. It didn’t take very long at all for us to load those busses and finish the exciting ride home to a two week Christmas vacation from school. It was truly the best of the best of times, and we all had a Merry, Merry Christmas.
Have a Merry, Merry Christmas.
Thursday, September 4, 2014
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