Chapter 4 - The Automatic Lock -- First Grade

1951-1952

Robert Frost House in 2014

(We had 1st grade here)

     Here we are again in Ann Arbor House in Greenfield Village (year 2 if you're counting) but this year we were the Big Kids on the First Floor. I was really proud to be counted among the first-graders, having so admired them when I was only five. The fact that we had less than half the space we’d had in kindergarten did not figure into my prideful calculations. I was just pleased to be counted among the older students.

     The first room on your right as you entered the front door was used for group activities such as musical instruments. I was especially enamored of the tambourine which made all kinds of wonderful sounds. Of course there were other musical choices such as the triangle, jingle bells, finger cymbals, wood block, hand cymbals and drums. But none were as versatile as the tambourine. Don’t you just love the sound your fist makes when you bang on the tambourine’s drum and the shimmering sounds of the small shaking metal strips that follow? I do. It’s very satisfying.

Robert Frost House

    The back room on the right was our classroom. It had small wooden desks neatly lined up in rows. That room had a bathroom in the far corner.

Robert Frost House 2012

    I remember the bathroom in particular because its door automatically locked when closed – it had been a house, not a school. This was fine while in use but was a problem if shut afterwards as no one else could use the bathroom. Luckily the windows of Ann Arbor House were low to the ground and in those days it was possible to reach that unlocked window from the outside. It was also fortunate that there were kids who enjoyed being sent outside to unlock the bathroom door. My name may have topped the list of “kids who like to unlock the door.” In retrospect, I can’t imagine what they were thinking to have a bathroom door with an automatic-lock in a first-grade classroom.

     My academic memories are not without trials. We learned to read with Dick, Jane, Sally and Spot. I enjoyed the process and looked forward to each new page of their adventures with anticipation. Would Spot chase his ball into a wardrobe and fall down a hole? No wait, that was years later and it wasn’t Spot who did that. The desks had hinged vertical slots for papers and books. It’s where we kept our Dick-and-Jane workbooks. Now what could happen if you had your daily milk break on top of the desks? Yes, it happened to me. I accidentally spilled my milk into this “well” which caused all the pages of my workbook to stick together. I was so shy and embarrassed that I spent weeks living in fear of my teacher discovering that I hadn’t been keeping up in the workbook. It even occurred to me as an adult to wonder why Mrs. McAllen didn’t notice the problem. However my memory of an entire year of lost learning evaporated a few years ago when I came across the old workbook – only three pages were stuck together.

     My other academic problem was not being able to see the pages in my workbook because my hair fell into my eyes. I kept losing the bobby pins which held it back. Mrs. McAllen started bringing in bobby pins from home for me. That was a strong memory and I was wondering if it was true when I found my only school picture, which is from First Grade. The bobby pins are clearly holding back my bangs. My mother must have decided to let my hair grow long because the following year I wore braids without bangs. In this case, I can see that my memory was undoubtedly accurate.

Robert Frost House

(My class spent 2 1/2 years in this building)

2014

Chapter 5 - The Gash in the Floor -- Second Grade

1952-1953

McGuffey Schoolhouse in 2014

(We had 2nd grade here in the 1950's)

Inside McGuffey School in 2014

      I loved the McGuffey School at Greenfield Village, a log cabin, and was very fond of the teacher, Mrs. Doremus. The year we spent there was one of my happiest. The log cabin was cozy and comfortable and the school projects fun. Mrs. Doremus was unusually short, a bit plump and had graying hair in a slightly untidy bun. Her size and manner seemed a perfect fit for the McGuffey School.

McGuffey School in 2011 -- Bathrooms were in the little building on the left

     We entered the cabin through the back door and filed downstairs to the basement where we hung our coats. Once Gary and Roger were tossing their woolen caps at each other when one of them got stuck above the florescent light bulb in the ceiling. We were back in our seats when smoke made us aware that a fire had started. I can’t recall what happened next. That's the really hard part about memories -- you can't make yourself remember the whole story. However, we know it all ended happily as the little log cabin still exists and still enchants visitors today.

     The "Best-Recess-Ever" Award goes to whoever decided to move the Ford children’s playhouse to the McGuffey School at Greenfield Village. Here’s what I wrote about it when I was in sixth grade: “I remember the big doll-house that four people used to play in during recess. In this house there were two rooms, a kitchen containing a sink with running water, and a living room with a sewing machine that worked.” The privilege of playing in the children’s play house was rotated with two boys and two girls assigned for a week at a time. We all loved that little house which had originally been built by the Ford’s for their grandchildren. Today it is back on the Henry Ford Estate.

      The best academic memory is about spelling. The winner of the weekly spelling bee had the supreme pleasure of wearing a silver dollar on a ribbon around his neck all week. It was a perfect prize and I longed to win. However, we had a boy who excelled in spelling, Gary, and he rarely lost the contest. Second prize was a half-dollar. I remember wearing it with great pride.

     William Holmes McGuffey had been an educator whose writings and textbooks were much admired by Mr. Ford; thus we memorized several McGuffey works. I can still recite the rhyming Ten Commandments from McGuffey’s Second Eclectic Reader.

The Gash in the Floor (a true story): 

     Once upon a time a little 7-year-old girl ('twas I) walked up to the little stand next to the teacher’s desk to sharpen her pencil. The pencil sharpener was nailed to a lovely block of oak or maple wood that, fractional inch by fractional inch, had slowly left its secure location and made its way to rest precariously at the rim. Each child's sharpening action had moved the block of wood closer to the edge. Little did the girl know that her simple act of inserting the pencil would result in permanent damage. Yes, her action of sharpening her pencil brought down the entire block of wood and gouged out a hole in the antique flooring which seemed enormous at the time. Imagine my surprise when I entered McGuffey’s Schoolhouse 45 years later and discovered the gash was still there! It's not obvious and smaller than I remembered, but it remains. I show it to my grandchildren with a strange sort of pride.

The gash is on the left -- it's hard to get a good photo of it. (2011)

The gash in 2014

2014

     When you think about it, isn’t it amazing that this log cabin is still standing today having been so fully used by more than 40 years of daily classes? If I alone can remember two stories about normal school activities, hat-throwing and pencil-sharpening, that resulted in damage to the building in the one year I was there, think of how many stories are not told. I’m very glad the building is still in existence (not so much the gouge).

Musings on McGuffey:      In 1934 Mr. Ford brought McGuffey’s birthplace from Pennsylvania to Greenfield Village along with the logs from the McGuffey family barn. He used the logs to build a wonderful schoolhouse which he placed near the birthplace. The Ackley Covered Bridge is nearby, and it too has McGuffey connections. It originally spanned a creek only seven miles from the McGuffey farm in Pennsylvania.

     Now let’s think this through: McGuffey was an academic; he taught in colleges. I can’t help but wonder why Mr. Ford built a log-cabin school house and called it McGuffey School. Yes, the logs had been part of the barn on the farm where young William was born, BUT the family moved to Ohio when William was only two years old. On the other hand, a log-cabin school does beautifully symbolize the education of pioneer children and millions did learn to read from the McGuffey Readers on the mid-1800’s frontier. Why did Mr. Ford build the McGuffey log cabin? I think Mr. Ford simply liked log cabins. I do too.

Chapter 6 - Flash Gordon Met the Cisco Kid -- 3rd grade

1953 - 1954

Town Hall in 2014

(We had 3rd grade here in the 1950's)

      The highlight of third grade at Greenfield Village was the day the boys wrestled a goat down the back steps into the basement of Town Hall, which was our school that year. " Susie" was a free-roaming goat with one horn painted red and the other one green. My memory doesn't extend to how long Susie spent in the basement, what she did there and what punishments the boys were awarded for accomplishing this feat. I only remember that it happened and I imagine that I was both aghast and amused at the time.

     One of the pleasures of leafing through the old Heralds is finding photos which call out for a certain amount of skepticism. For example, there was a happy photo of boys and girls holding hands gaily skipping down the front steps of Town Hall in 1947 which does not resemble in any way my experience of attending school in Town Hall six years later. A closer look reveals that the children are not smiling. I strongly suspect that this is an example of a 1947 “photo opportunity”. It was taken six months after Mr. Ford’s death and there may have been some uncertainty about the school’s future. Perhaps Mrs. Ford was the intended target of this idyllic picture, a demonstration of why the school must be kept in operation. Or maybe not.

      We entered Town Hall through an outside cement staircase at the back of the building. It led to the basement where we left our coats and boots, where Susie the Goat was wrestled down the stairs and where we kept the weaving looms. In warm weather we may have used the front door but the chances that we ever merrily skipped outside hand-in-hand, boy-girl, well, the chances that happened were nil.

     My only academic memories of 3^rd grade are (1) learning to count to ten in Spanish and (2) being bored out-of-my-mind by geography. I think it might have been world geography and with my love of travel today, I would have thought that my child-self would have loved it. However I only remember that we were to memorize which countries produced which products (rice, rubber, titanium?) and it meant nothing to me. Leaf-collecting, matching trees with leaves, was far more interesting. We did that quite a few years in the Village – I still remember where the chestnut trees were – but I don’t know if third grade was a leaf-collecting year.

     Recess often involved the entire class in exciting adventures recreating a TV show called “Flash Gordon” who was a spaceman. The most popular kids played the lead parts but all of us were included. I remember the playtime fondly but I also remember that I was at distinct disadvantage. I would be assigned a role to act out but I never watched the actual TV show. I tried my best by adapting plots from my TV shows to a spaceman scenario. My TV shows were the Westerns – Hop-a-Long Cassidy, Gene Autry, the Cisco Kid and my favorite, the Lone Ranger.

A note about Town Hall: Mr. Ford wanted a town hall on the village green facing the village chapel. Given only a few months to do so, Frank Cutler designed and built it in time for the 1929 dedication. It represents the early 19^th century Greek revival style of architecture and reflects an amazing amount of determination and skill.

Chapter 7 - The Big Fall -- Fourth Grade

1954 - 1955

     Our fourth grade began upstairs in the Clinton Inn and switched to the basement of Ann Arbor House for the rest of the year. I don’t know why. Shall we show another photo of Ann Arbor House? This will account for the half-year of the two and a half years spent in the little house, if you’re counting.

Robert Frost House in 2014

(We had half of 4th grade in the basement)

     My good friend Andy remembers that fourth grade began in Ann Arbor House and ended in the Clinton Inn, so perhaps that is the correct order. I’m sure it doesn’t matter and we agree that we spent the school year split between the two buildings and we don’t know why.

The Eagle Tavern in 2014

(We had half of 4th grade upstairs)

     We must have begun the school year by learning to add the words “under God” to our Pledge of Allegiance. The bill to amend was signed into law in June of 1954, so in September when school began this must have been one of our assignments. I don’t remember that it was fourth grade when this happened but I do remember the awkwardness of learning to add the two words to the Pledge of Allegiance.

     I was often sick with low-grade virus infections and missed school. The doctor wanted to take out my tonsils but said I was too anemic for the operation. He recommended that my parents take me to a warm climate to get healthy. The concept must have agreed with other family needs at the time because we took our first trip to Florida and met up with my grandparents. My grandfather was very ill and was recovering in the warm weather. It was the first airplane ride for my brother and me, and I remember being reassured by the cardboard poster in front of every seat. It showed hundreds of cartoon people and said “Millions have flown safely. You can too.” I kept my eyes on it every time the propeller airplane air-stream-bumped. Though there was a lot of homework, I could do it on the sunny beach and the whole Florida experience was very exciting. I collected lots of seashells and brought home a shark’s tooth for every classmate.

     Fourth grade was the year of my Big Fall off the ladder in the playground. I acquired a scar just below my lower lip and another inside my cheek but you can’t see that one. The playground behind Ann Arbor House included a ladder-type monkey bar. One of my routine moves was to climb on top of it, grab a rung with both hands and swing myself through to hang under the ladder. One day I began my routine move but forgot to use my hands, thus diving head-first into the dirt below. My child-memory was that I was put in a chair in Ann Arbor House basement with pints of dirt-covered blood pouring from my mouth while my teacher and the school principal calmly observed and discussed whether or not to call my mother. Believing my life blood was rapidly flowing out of my body, I distinctly remember thinking “Are you nuts?! CALL HOME!” But I couldn't talk because of the blood. Eventually, Principal Stroebel himself drove me home and I remember that his car became bloody which I’m sorry to report gave me some minor satisfaction since he had taken so long to make a decision. I’m embarrassed to report that when my mother took me to Dr. Runge’s office, I made such a fuss over his plan to put in a few stitches that both the doctor and my mother finally backed down. I was allowed to have the lifetime pleasure of a scar inside my cheek and below my outer lip rather than suffer the brief agony of stitches. In retrospect I think I made a fine decision.

      The sum total of my fourth grade academic memory is learning the times tables.

     The biggest surprise took place at the end-of-the-year picnic which was a lot of fun. Our parents came, and we played all kinds of racing games which I loved, including the three-legged race and a race jumping in a brown cloth potato sack. Miss Rodgers smiled while talking to my parents and made a positive comment about me. I didn’t know she could smile nor harbor a kind thought. (She was my least-favorite teacher.)