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One Room School Each of us has a phase of his or her life that crowds memory. Mine is of a one-room country school in the head of the holler called Meadow Fork, has never dimmed. Even today the remembrance of that one-mile walk. The tang of fall in the air. Goldenrod and wild berries sprouted along the country road. The woods were alive with birds and now and then you would hear the tap of a woodpecker. When finally the rectangle white structure and bell tower over head. With the out houses sitting next to the creek banks. With the tall swing set out back. We entered the school to the smell of a coal fire burning in the pot belly stove. That sit to the back of the room. The children not the school that made the memories. The names of the students, Pauline, Kaye, Sue, Andy, Charles, Debbie, Oran, Billy, Carson, Wayne, Steve, Stanley, Eddie, Georgie, Clinton, Postie, James, Mae, Larry, Micheal, and David. The students ranged from the age of six to seventeen. I know it had to be exhausting to teach classes at various grade levels, first threw the eightth grade in a one room school. But somehow we learned to spell, read, and do our arithmatic and our penmanship. Discipline had been instilled in us by our parents. So not a lot happen in school.Most of us have remained friends threw out the years. The ties to that one room school are the wonderful memories that will never be for gotten. And forever cherished.