Brewer Chronicles - Walnut Grove School

We had to walk the half mile out of the lane to meet the school bus. The school bus appeared sometime between 6:30 and 7:15 (the morning mystery). Climbing into the bus, I looked for familiar faces to select a seat buddy. One unwritten rule was that you didn’t sit down unless you were invited. Being the last on the bus, I didn’t have many options. Wherever you sat on the first day pretty much committed you for the year. In the winter, you tried to sit directly behind the driver to be close to the heater. If it was REALLY cold, the driver would often have a kerosene heater chained to one of the seats toward the rear. The seat rules were loosened when it was really cold.

My first eight school years were in Walnut Grove - a one room school divided into two rooms (LITTLE room for 1 through 4,  BIG room for 5 through 8) by a large folding door between them. Each room had one teacher that taught ALL subjects to FOUR grades (actually, I feel that I received an excellent preparation for high school). The total school population was about 50 students.  This really turned out to be an optimum system for learning. We sat through the same material four times with greater understanding each year. It also gave us a responsibility for self-learning due to the limited teacher focus for each child.

The school also did not have indoor plumbing. Water had to be carried from a nearby farm house and poured into a ceramic jug. Some of the ‘rich’ kids had neat cups (I always lusted after the metal ones that had rings that collapsed. Most of us had to fold a page from our red Indian Head tablets (with the lined yellow pages). The folded paper could also be used for a pirate hat.

A boys’ restroom was on the far left rear corner and the girls on the right rear corner of the school ground. They were built on a concrete slab with a barrel used as a form for the stool. Boards were nailed together as a platform with a hole cut out. Sometime around the civil war, the boards were torn off and thrown into the crapper. To use it, you had to perch on it like a pigeon. When I was in the first grade, I discovered my limitations when trying that while wearing bib overalls. They say that a person’s personality usually has a major hinge point during their childhood. This probably explains mine.

I was in the first grade on a normal November day in Indiana – overcast, drizzle, in the 40’s, and breezy. Mrs. Geneva Radcliff ran a strict classroom. Only one kid was able to be out of the class for the restroom at a time. This was managed by a back from the Indian Head tablet with red on one side (no, someone is already out) and green on the other (OK). But first, you had to get her permission.
That day, I had serious ‘burning and rumbling’ intestinal problem. I had already been out once since the afternoon recess. When I asked her again, she said no (she thought I was going out to smoke – yes, in the first grade). I went back to my seat, but realized that I REALLY needed to go. When she saw the look on my face, she realized that I SHOULD go. I started the 200 feet trot to the restroom with my knees together while stopping every 25 feet to manage the situation.

When I finally made it, I gingerly stepped up onto the ring, unhooked the galluses, and dropped the overalls to my knees. This is when it got tricky. I bent over, reached between my legs, grabbed the galluses in one very swift move, and raised up. The momentum made me do a reverse gainer into the pooper.

I did have a stroke of good luck (relatively speaking). Sometime during the decades after they built the platform and that time, numerous boards and limbs had been judiciously thrown into it. That stopped my fall totally into the soup. I was able to reach up onto the lip of the ring and pull myself up. I dragged myself up while pulling up my overalls that were now down by my ankles.

I used the remaining three squares of toilet paper in a short time. Now, I was in a dilemma: do I pull up my overalls (it was cold) or take them off (it wasn’t THAT cold).  Dragging my overalls, I hoofed it back to the school house, entered the vestibule with entrances to both classrooms, and knocked on the ‘little’ classroom door. After an eternity and a half, Mrs. Radcliff opened the door, exclaimed “On, NO!”, and closed the door. A couple more eternities and she returned (she had gone to the ‘big’ room and gotten an older girl to babysit the ‘little’ room). She told me to wait there (as if I was pondering alternatives).

She opened the back door where she had driven her new (still had the paper on the inside of the doors) 1949 Plymouth. She had prepared a ‘nest’ of wadded up newspapers in the front seat for me. With the windows rolled down and the heater on high, she drove me home. Mom was usually glad to see me, but she didn’t show it that time.

I know that only the people that were there will believe this. When I was in the sixth grade, we had an amazing teacher – Mr. Lebert (probably not spelled right) Marshall. Not only was he a great teacher, but he really OWNED that school. He decided that it was time to have a cistern and a water fountain inside the school.  He chained a four feet wide farm scoop with long wooden pole handles behind his 1947 Mercury. With two of the older boys on each handle, he made passes, scooping up the dirt, and stacking it to the side. Toward the end, the car was deep into the hole, spinning its wheels, and puffing some serious smoke while climbing out; but the hole got dug. The blocks and concrete were completed by a couple of local guys. A pump, plumbing, and faucets in the back entrance completed the system. I swear this happened.

Have you noticed that all elementary school rooms have the same ‘this kid has eaten a lot of eggs’ smell? Ours also mixed in the smell of oil that was used on the floor to preserve the wood and to control dust. The seats were attached to boards so that they could be easily moved. The seats were spaced for optimal hair pulling and note passing.

Each ‘room’ had a big coal stove surrounded by a sheet metal wall. ‘Tuning’ the fire became an art. Occasionally, the stoves would omit a huge groan and pass gas into the room with a gray cloud. The coal was kept in the ‘coal bin’ in a cellar under the first four grades and was carried to the stoves by the older boys. Another room under the floor of the top four grades was used for recess games during rainy days. It included a gym (a monkey bar – a shortened broom stick suspended from the ceiling with swing chains).

The school day started with the Pledge of Allegiance. This was followed by each of us reciting a Bible verse. (Mine was usually ‘Jesus saves’ although I always wondered why He needed to save anything). We had multiple window blinds on the wall that had maps painted on them. I always looked forward to them being pulled down so that I could see other areas – especially other countries. I was glad when we got new maps and a donated encyclopedia set that showed the western states instead of the Louisiana Purchase.

Early in the school year, a ‘pie supper’ event was held to raise money for school items (sports equipment, new maps, and other supplies). This was a very popular event with local musicians amazing us with their virtuosity.  The girls would make a pie that would be auctioned to the highest bidder. The winner would get to eat the first piece of the pie with the pie baker. This event not only raised money, but it also gave us a chance to have a great time with our friends and family.

The Christmas play also provided the same opportunity. For weeks prior, the kids cut our trees, candles, angels, and other seasonal images to color and post them on the windows, walls, and blackboards. Paper garlands hang everywhere. All kids participated either as stars in a skit, singing, and/or reciting a poem or story. The proud parents would always clap heartily at the cheesy scenes and express their excitement for their kids. The last bus ride home for the holidays ended with a brown bag containing an orange, peanuts, and some candy.

I really excelled at recess and lunch. The local government and pie supper did a great job of providing swings, basketball goals, and softball equipment. By using almost everyone (boy and girl) in the ‘big’ room, we could put a softball team together. No one had a chance to be excluded. Honestly, we were a terrible team, but the fun was boundless.

Occasionally, we would play against a nearby school (Four Corners, Haleysburg, Monroe, or Pleasant View). It was always an adventure to play an away game even though we usually lost. One time, we actually walked all of the way to Haleysburg to play them. Yeah, I can see that happening today.

The last day of school was always special. This meant that we would all load onto the bus for our Salem adventure. This was always to the theater to watch a movie (usually “The Prince of Peace”.


After I passed the eighth grade, I was about to have a MAJOR shift in my universe.