School Days at the Rural Schoolhouse
Jackson’s Gap
Elementary School was a simple white framed wooden building with three
classrooms and a lunchroom. Concrete steps led up to the front porch and
straight ahead from there was the classroom for the first and second grades. A
turn to the left would lead to another door that opened onto a long hallway
that led to the lunchroom in the back where Miss Lindy served up some of the
best southern cooking around. Miss Lindy was a Black lady who was employed to
cook all the meals in the school lunchroom. I never saw Miss Lindy in a bad
mood. She always had a bright smile and a twinkle in her eye. She was short
and round, usually had her hair tied in a kerchief, and she wore sneakers with
cuts in the side where her pinky-toes would stick out. I gathered that her feet
were too wide for her to find comfortably fitting shoes, so she had to make
alterations. She would walk to work, getting to the schoolhouse early, and by
10:30 in the morning, fantastic aromas would be wafting down the hallway.
Oh, yes, we are still
in the hallway I was describing. On the right was the boys’ restroom. The entry
to the girls’ restroom was back out on the porch beside the first and second-grade classroom. Just past the Boys Room was the classroom where grades 6, 7,
and 8 were taught by the teacher who also served as principal. Further down the
hallway to the left, before you reached the lunchroom was the classroom for
grades 3, 4, and 5. That hallway also held a Coke machine and a freezer box
that held ice cream bars that kids could buy during morning recess.
First Day at School
I can remember my
first day at school. It was a momentous day marking a shift in my life from
days centered at home to days spent learning new things in the classroom. My
Dad took me to school that day, and we arrived early before the bell rang. We
may have been the first ones there, or more likely, a few other students were
slowly coming in. It was a large room with tall windows across the back wall.
In front of the classroom ran two long blackboards, with a third blackboard on
the far side of the room where the second-grade class sat. Above the
blackboards were the letters of the alphabet, wrapping from one wall around to
the other. On the side of the room near the doorway, there were two large
pictures. They were reproductions of paintings. One was a farm scene featuring
a red barn and a young boy leading a horse around the barnyard. The other was a
reproduction of Winslow Homer's famous painting, “Snap the Whip.” The painting portrayed school children playing outside a
little red schoolhouse. Dad walked to the back of the room and raised one of
the windows to let some fresh air in. There was no air-conditioning in the
school (most houses did not have air-conditioning either).
Out in front of the
schoolhouse were a few large oaks. Just beyond them was Jackson’s Gap Baptist
Church where my father pastored. Just
beneath one of the oaks was a well, covered by a concrete casing. The well
supplied all of the water for the school. Everyone in Jackson’s Gap had their
own well; there was no “city water” supplying our homes or businesses. We had
running water, of course, and indoor toilets, but each well required a pump to
get the water from the well to the plumbing. Sometimes at recess, we would
organize a game of chase or hide-and-seek. We would sometimes use the concrete
casing over the well as “base” for those games.
Out on the Playground
As for the
playground, we had three large open areas, one in the front and two in the
back. One of the areas in the back of the school was a baseball diamond where
the little league would practice in the summer, and which kids made use of
during recess. When baseball season came
around, the older kids would play baseball. The school did have a few bats and
a softball. Some kids would also bring their own ball and bat and everyone
needed their own glove if they were going to play.
There was no
playground equipment, however – no swings or slides, no see-saws or climbing
gyms. During recess, children would find
ways to play together. Some days we brought our bags of marbles. We younger kids would have fun shooting
marbles, some of the big kids, though, played for keeps.
We often organized games of chase, Simon Says, freeze tag and
Red Rover. Freeze tag was always a fun innovation on the basic game of tag, and
Red Rover required two teams, often involving kids from several grades. Each
team would form a line, linking hands to form what was hoped to be an
unbreachable link. One team would call out to the other, “Red Rover, Red Rover
send _____ right over.” They would call out the name of a person on the
opposing team. That person would then charge ahead and attempt to break through
the line. If he broke through, he carried a person back to his/her team, if he
failed to break through, he was assimilated into the opposing team.
I wish I had a
picture of the school where I spent those formative grade school years. While
it was not a “little red schoolhouse,” having no playground equipment or city
water, Jackson’s Gap Elementary in some respects did resemble the painting that
hung on the wall of the first-grade classroom. We never played snap-the-whip,
but we often played a similar game we called “sling train.” in that game we
formed a long line with each one holding onto the hip pockets of the kid in
front of us. The kid in front would lead
us running down the playground, taking twists and turns as kids gradually were
slung to the side and onto the ground. Eventually, the teachers ruled that we
could not play that game any longer because parents were complaining that kids
were coming home with the hip pockets ripped off their jeans.
When the School Bell
Rings
I mentioned at the
outset that on my first day of school, Dad got me there before the bell rang.
The school bell marked the beginning and the end of the school day it also marked
the beginning of recess and the called us to return to class at the end of
recess. Most people probably think of the school bell as that electric bell
located somewhere on the walls of the school. At Jackson’s Gap, it was a handbell that was kept in the principal’s desk drawer. He would ring it in the
hallway, and he would hold it outside the window to make sure everyone on the
playground heard the bell. Often he would let a student ring the bell. One day,
Walter Dreshler and I asked if we could ring the bell to end recess. As
first-graders, that was an awesome thing, indeed!
Some of the older kids would sometimes think they could extend recess by hiding
the bell. That tactic did not work, however. The Lion’s Club met at the school
and they had a brass bell on a stand with a hammer that they would tap to call
their meetings to order. When the mischievous ones hid the bell, the principal,
Mr.Paul, went to the closet and took out the Lion’s Club bell. Two of the older
girls set the bel in the window and pounded it with the hammer. We went up to
the window and said, “Is that the bell?”
“Yes,” they told us,
“this is the bell until we find the real one.”
I’m just glad I
wasn’t there when Mr. Paul found out who took the school bell. We heard stories
about the paddle that man had in his desk drawer!
Our Learning
Enrichments
In addition to no
playground equipment, Jackson’s Gap Elementary had no library. Each classroom
did have a corner reserved for books. Every two weeks, the bookmobile ran from
the Tallapoosa County Library System to the school. Teachers would select books
that they wanted for their classrooms until the bookmobile returned. During the
summer, the bookmobile came to The Gap every two weeks for anyone in the
community who wanted to check out a book. It would park in the Jackson’s Gap
Baptist Church parking lot under the shade of the trees while people in the
community came to make their selections. Dr. Seuss was among my favorite
selections in first and second grade, especially Horton Hears a Who, and Horton
Hatches the Egg.
Jackson’s Gap
Elementary School was perhaps an anachronism in our time. It was a vestige of a
time when a small schoolhouse and a small church were the center of community
life in rural America. After my
first-grade year, the school had gone from eight grades to six grades. Word had
it that the County School Superintendent wanted to shut the school down. At the end of my fifth-grade year, our family
moved into Dadeville, and the following year the school was closed. While we
had limited resources, it was a supportive environment where we were able to
learn the basic grammar school curriculum.
The school was, in
keeping with the times, all white. As I have related my childhood stories of
life in the segregated South, most of my stories have only a limited appearance
of Black people. The reason for that is that our society was kept segregated so
that there was very little interaction between white people and Black people in
my childhood experience. For example, Miss Lindy, the cook for the lunchroom,
was the only Black person we ever saw at school.
What I cannot tell
you in my reminiscences here is what the school for Black children was like. I
had no first-hand knowledge. It may be that they were bused on up the road to
Dadeville which was four miles away. Council School served the Black community
there. Jackson’s Gap Elementary may have seemed backward and limited in
comparison to the school in the county seat of Dadeville. Compared to the
learning environment that was offered to most Black children, however, we were
still among the privileged class – we just didn’t know it.
A rural Black school in Alabama |
<Part 7, Breaking Ground
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Images:
Top: "Snap-the-whip" (1872)
Artist: Winslow Homer
Metropolitan Museum of Art
This is very interesting and engaging! I'm enjoying reading all your 'Growing Up under Southern Apartheid' posts.
ReplyDeleteThis is very interesting and engaging! I'm enjoying reading all your 'Growing Up under Southern Apartheid' posts.
ReplyDelete