The reason I began thinking about home was because something I heard on NPR a couple days ago. They were talking about the age of school houses and how our education system has become what it is now. For me, school houses aren’t something unknown in history. When I was in elementary school, I was actually in a school house. Until 1989, students in Lyndon Station were still using a 2 story school house. I spent some time searching the Internet for any pictures that might still be out there of it but unfortunately, I couldn’t find any. So, in the fashion of writing, I will paint you a picture with words.
When you walked through the double doors, you has a small vestibule, and then another set of double doors. This school was completely reciprocate, so on the back of the school, you had the same doors, which then, after you walked through the second set of doors, were stairs. The stairs to the right went up to the bathrooms, 3 classrooms and library. The stairs to the left went downstairs to the cafeteria, small gymnasium and the boiler room.
When you got to the top of the stairs, there were hooks along the sides of the wide hallway for coats and bags. The bathrooms were here, with the women’s on the left, and the men’s on the right. Then, after those, were the classrooms. On the right, next to the men’s room, was the 3rd and 4th grade classroom. At that time, Mrs. Wolfgram was teaching those grades. I unfortunately don’t remember her too well. I remember her pushing me though, to get my homework done and complete and trust that I know and will retain what I learned.
Across the hall was the 1st and second grade classroom. That was Mr. Ingels and he was one of those teachers that really encouraged me and made sure that I knew it was great that I loved learning things. He would always say, “Now that you know that, what can you do with it?”
The other two rooms upstairs were the library, where I practically memorized every book on frogs, and the kindergarten room, where I had my first kiss from Erin Hall. Right behind the barn that Mrs. Kramer somehow fit in the room. I saw Mrs. Kramer when I graduated high school. Her daughter was one of my friends and fellow students and the day we graduated, I realized that Amy had that same beautiful kindness that her mother had which I remember still from the first day of kindergarten.
Downstairs was the cafeteria that Betty, Erin’s Grandma, would serve us lunch. Berta would help her and it was always the best food ever. She only had to cook for at the most, 50 people a day, so she would always make it extra special. When I got to middle school in Mauston, I remember my extreme disappointment when lunch came that first day. Erin, Ryan, Jessica, Josh and I sat there looking at our trays just thinking, what is this and where is Betty?
The other room in the basement was our gymnasium with the boiler room off of it. The gym was small, with low ceilings so when we played basketball, we were rockstars. The boiler room was only notable for one reason, it’s where we learned that our teachers smoked. Teachers weren’t suppose to smoke. It was like finding out that there is no Santa Claus.
Well, that was where I went to school for four years. Our little school house, with the large no screened window that tilted outward and one could easily jump out of. The little school house that had a great old fashioned jungle gym in the back. Its so funny how we don’t really think of these significant markers in our lives but then with a little trigger, we unleash an ocean of memories.
I couldn’t find the school house, but here are a couple pictures from my hometown. I hope this made you think about where you come from and the reason that you may treasure it.
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