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.