The Exeter Times-Advocate, 1970-09-03, Page 9S.S. 5 Usborne, Home of Mr. & Mrs. Don Wilson
S. S• 3 Stephen, Mr. & Mrs. H. Andrews live here
With the coming .of the new ,
glossy, superstructured central
schools the little old country
schoolhouse met its demise.
Some or the buildings were
torn down, while a few others
were left to slowly decay and
eventually become only
memories in the minds of those
who once attended them.
But, what memories!
The little one-room school.
seemed big to us then and out in
the yard boys and girls and
teacher joined in the fun of games
of Tag, Fox and Goose, -Blind
Man's Buff and Rachael and
Jacob. When the big boys chose
up sides for baseball you- tried to
look taller than you were so you
wouldn't be the last one chosen
for the team.
* * *
And Christmas concerts!
Was there ever a time more
exhilerating or exciting. With the
tree shining in its glory up beside
the makeshift stage you came out
in front of the curtain with your
heart beating so wildly you could
scarcely hear yourself repeating
the recitation you'd been
practising for weeks. The only
thing that kept you from turning
tail and running was your
mother's and father's proud faces
beaming in the audience.
When the program was over
there was the sound of Santa's
bells way off in the distance and
you'd tremble with scary delight
when he suddenly came busting
in, glowing and ho-hoing his way
up to the front, to hand out the
gifts. You'd just about die from
the thrill of him recognizing you
and calling you by name. (Years
later youd find out in
amazement it was really your dad
or uncle or the neighbor up the
road.)
* * *
In these times you shared
things . . like secrets and
two-seater desks and you
swapped three oatmeal cookies
for a chunk of chocolate cake.
You probably walked a mile or
two to school, and in the winter
when you finally arrived the old
pot-bellied stove was belching out
More smoke than heat.
Sometimes the teacher made
all the pupils run around the room
single file until they were thawed
out and warm enough to start
work.
* * *
When you did get down to
your studies you kept one ear
Peeled to what the teacher was
telling another class and it was
never clear whether you learned
more from listening to the class
ahead or from your own
assignments.
There were slates, and rags to
keep them clean, and bottles of
water to wet the rags which froze
solid on winter nights.
That was when you wore long,
woollenunderwearand no matter
how carefully you folded it at the
ankle there were always ugly
bumps under your heavy
stockings. Balls of snow always
attached themselves to your
stocking or pant legs and when it
melted from the warmth of the
stove, steam gently rose above
your knees. It was also the time of
hated navy blue, fleeced lined
bloomers, and a scarf tied so
tightly around your head your
nose was squashed and the area
around your mouth got soaking
wet from your hot breath melting
the frost on the outside of the
scarf.
Trips to the outdoor toilet
were few in winter but increased
in frequency and urgency in the
fine, spring days, when you also
got mighty thirsty and would
nearly choke to death if you
didn't get out to the pump for a
drink,
* * *
Then, there was the DAY OF
DAYS.
The day the teacher would be
invited for supper and spend the
night.
You begged Mama to bake
something 'special' and
everybody minded their manners
and entertained the lucky lady
like a queen.
Those are just some of the
memories shared b y pupils of
another era and which must
haunt the little schools still left
standing.
* * *
But, while school children no
longer work and play in them
many of these buildings have
taken a new lease on life.
With ingenuity and a sense of
the past, several new owners have
turned them into delightful and
well-planned permanent or
vacation homes.
Some districts took over the
vacant schools and converted
them into community centres so
they are still used and enjoyed by
the people in the area.s.
Still others have found their
way into the hands of owners
who use them for storing
everything from turnips to
machinery to furniture.
And, at least one in this
community has been turned into
a house for pigs.
The pigs look content and
happy.
No doubt they've read the
story of the Three Little Pigs and
know there's no way the big bad
wolf can get into their house of
solid, red, brick.
The Little Red School House
`She can't what she used to be'
The pigs are happy in Winchelsea school
N. Jeromkin builds new house behind Khiva school
:Septomber 3„ 1970 Pa.00
Furniture stored in Hensall
bridal registry =
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Smokey Hollow School, retirement home of Mr. & Mrs. A . Meininger, Detroit
S. S. 1 Stephen belongs to Mr. & Mrs. Alvin Lobb
Village uses old school for community centre