Emerson School – 1932-1938
We lived 3 blocks from Emerson. What a great school! It had a huge sundial on the south wall. None of us could tell time from it but it was a symbol of education that we all admired. In the second grade we had a really pretty teacher by the name of Miss Smith. All of us boys had a crush on Miss Smith. She was patient and pretty and happy. I was never the best reader. I got stuck on the word “father” in Dick and Jane. She would always let me falter and after what seemed interminable hours she would gently say “father” and smile at me. But right in the middle of the year she changed her name to Mrs. Narron. None of us kids (maybe just me and a few) ever understood why she changed her name. We all went along with it and boys still had our crush on Mrs. Narron. In the fourth grade, Mrs. Hamilton had us going through reading, ritin’ and ’rithmetic at a furious pace. She somehow found a cocoon. It was sort of wound around a little branch of wood. She told us boys to keep an eye on it and she laid it on the big old oak wood window sill just above the radiator. Then, after awhile one day we were going to our studies real hard and Mrs. Hamilton stopped suddenly and said “children look – look at our cocoon!” Sure enough, a big beautiful butterfly had crawled out. He was laying on that beautiful oak window sill – all wet. The class crowded around and that butterfly sort of dried out. Mrs. Hamilton gently opened the window. It was lightly snowing outside and that beautiful butterfly walked over to the open window and flew gracefully into the down-falling snow. I learned a lot from Mrs. Hamilton. All of Emerson’s teachers were wonderful. Real educators. I loved them all.
And then came Mrs. Schroeder. Oh, she had a “tough teacher” reputation. Did we ever learn from her. No assignment wasn’t undone. She had one unbreakable rule – no marbles in class. I remember one of my buddies named Billy. He was a great marble shooter, best in the school. One day, Billy was sitting sort of slumped down in his seat and dropping his handful of marbles one at a time into his marble pouch. He was totally engrossed in that activity when Mrs. Schroeder spotted him. Plunk, plunk each marble went when Mrs. Schroeder got a large ruler and began to stalk over to his desk, ruler raised. All of us guys were whispering “pssst, Bill,” “hey, Bill,” but to no avail. Finally Mrs. Shroeder got to his desk. We weren’t sure if she was going to hit poor Billy or what. But she let go with that ruler on his desk. Kerwham! And little Billy went right straight up. Marbles hit the ceiling. It was suddenly raining marbles. And then they all came down, rolling on that beautiful hardwood floor, reeling and rolling. Billy was glad to get out of it alive. He never brought marbles into her class again. We learned more than that, too. She was a dedicated, professional teacher.
I will always love Emerson School and appreciate receiving a fine, fundamental education from truly dedicated teachers. These are a few glimpses of grade school days during the depression (1932-1938).
Tom Grassatt