Indian Rock School

Emily Hopson

2011-01-13T07:39:00.000-08:00

A few hours after midnight in January 1, 2002, an ancient old lady died at Sharon Hospital, just a few months shy of her 100th birthday. Her name was Emily Mills Hopson, and she was one of the most extraordinary people I have ever met.

This brilliant, stubborn, fascinating woman was not a teacher by profession (she was international buyer for the famed G. Fox & Co Gift Shop), but she was one of the best teachers I had. As long time president of the Kent Historical Society and Kent Town Historian, Emily took me under her wing after a chance conversation about Kent history while pulling weeds together at our Seven Hearths museum. At age 92, she still had energy and stamina! I began to volunteer for her one day a week, and was immediately in awe of her vast knowledge about our town and the local iron industry. I scribbled notes constantly, even on the back of my hand if no scrap of paper was handy. Hers was a nonstop history lecture.

Miss Hopson came from the large Kent Hopson family, and was a member of a generation that was primarily women. They were all well educated – Vassar, Wellesley and Smith – and all rabid historians. Emily’s mother, Elizabeth, also a Hopson by birth, had attended the Amenia Seminary and instilled a love of learning in her daughter. Emily fondly remembered childhood trips in a horse drawn buggy from Kent to Amenia to visit her mother’s friends and relatives (she was a Pratt descendant). The trip took all day, and Emily avidly absorbed the tales her Hopson parents told while they rode along.

Like most passionate students, Miss Hopson like to share her knowledge. She especially loved to teach children, though sometimes her detailed lectures went a little bit over their heads. Her father, grandfather and great-grandfather were iron masters and ran the Kent Iron Manufacturing Company. All the Hopson children learned the history of the industry down to the most minute detail. If Emily had one fault it was that she thought we all ought to be as interested in those details! But she also loved the history of education, and when the opportunity arose for the Kent Historical Society to acquire the pre-Revolutionary one-room schoolhouse on Skiff Mountain, she grabbed it. Putting her considerable energy, enthusiasm and financial wealth into the restoration project, she soon had an impeccably restored gem of a little building. And she finally had a classroom of her own!

Miss Hopson immediately developed a program for the 2nd and 3rd graders at Kent Center School – a program that we still use in part today. She collected old textbooks and composition books, and let the children actually use them. She gathered together graduates of many of Kent’s defunct one room schoolhouses at the Skiff Mountain School one day in order to collect their stories, so that he lessons would be accurate. She included a communal water bucket and dipper, as well as old lunch buckets and baskets, in her program, and generally held the kids spellbound as she told them about life in a one room schoolhouse. While the water dipper grossed out the children used to water fountains and plastic bottles, they were fascinated by the lesson plans, the stories and games that the kids “back in the day” used to play. Arithmetic bees were always a big hit. She continued to teach those classes until well into her 90s, and always had a spellbound audience.

As my teacher, Miss Emily Hopson and her lessons and memories still guide me through the programs that the Kent Historical Society holds for the Kent Center School students each year. I couldn’t do it without her! The best teacher ever.
by Marge Smith,
Director
Kent Historical Society

Tower Hill School Christmas

2010-11-29T17:00:00.000-08:00

By
Stanley H. Benham, Sr.
Stanley H. Benham, Sr. (1902 – 1991) attended the Tower Hill one-room school which was a combination district for Amenia and the Town of Washington. Maude Smith Rundall was his teacher in those years.

Benham writes, “Our farming district was lightly populated and had no village or other activities to attract people. The schoolhouse, I believe, would measure up quite well with the average one-room school in the state….I don’t know when the schoolhouse was built, but I do know that my father went there, and I remember hearing my grandfather speak of the ‘old school house’.”

“The Tower Hill School used wax candles on its Christmas trees.
It was Stanley’s job to stand by with a tin cup and a pail of water in case of fire.”

“About a week before Christmas the teacher and students went to a near-by woods and cut down a Christmas tree. It was taken in and set up in the corner of the classroom.
There were a few strings of tinsel in the cupboard and in the other corner, a half-dozen bright balls. There were also ten or twelve candleholders that would clip on the tree branches. The students were then asked to pop some corn at home, string some on a thread and bring it to school to hang on the tree.
There was a party in the afternoon of the last day before Christmas vacation. The mothers and any younger children came. Each student read or recited a Christmas poem. The teacher had put a small present under the tree for each student and the mothers brought cookies and candy.
The blinds, which were solid wood shutters, were closed and with a small torch on the end of a short pole, the teacher lit all the candles on the tree. The candles were watched while they were burning. We ate part of the goodies and then the shutters were opened and the candles were snuffed out. The coats, hats, boots and mittens were pulled on and all went home to enjoy the two-week vacation. As I think of it now, I have to wonder why we never burned the place down with all those candles among the flammable pine needles. The pail of (drinking) water averaged half-full and there was only a tin cup to dip and throw water.

…The children didn’t have a chance to tell a department store Santa Claus what to bring but anticipated his gifts. In the average family the stocking hung on the mantle probably held an orange or two, very likely the only ones of the year. There might be a small bag of homemade fudge and maybe some ribbon candy and a rubber ball. Under our tree there were small toys, occasionally a sled and always mittens and some other articles of clothing. I do not remember seeing adults exchange gifts at Christmas or birthdays.

…The decorations (for our tree at home) were carefully made for this special time.”
from Rural Life in the Hudson River Valley 1880-1920
Observations of Stanley H. Benham and photographs of Sidney S. Benham*
edited by Virginia Benham Augerson and Stanley H. Benham, Jr., Hudson Books, 2006
The book, a special Christmas gift, is available at Merritt Books in Millbrook and Oblong Books & Records in Millerton.

*note: The Benhams of Amenia are second cousins to the Tower Hill Benhams.

Best wishes from Indian Rock School House

2010-11-29T15:08:00.000-08:00

Read on for some of our Christmas stories!

Three Little Maids from Wassaic School

2010-11-29T13:06:00.000-08:00

Remembering our
Childhood Christmas
Lana Anguin Cohen, Sue Moody Metcalfe and Suzanne Hoadley O’Hearn got together to reminisce about Christmas in the Wassaic’s schoolhouse. Each “girl” tells a part of the story of the little gingerbread school in the heart of Wassaic and what went on there during the holiday season.

Indian Rock Schoolhouse Historian John Quinn sets the stage:
“Of Amenia’s dozen or so common schools, District 8 in Wassaic was for years the largest building - with three rooms and eight grades serving at times as many as 70 pupils. This is understandable because even before the coming of the State School in the 1930’s, the hamlet between the hills was long the busiest and most populous in the area.
Its commercial life began in the late 18th century with the Steel Works, followed by the Gridley Iron Furnace in 1825 with the influx of colliers (charcoal makers) and miners’ families.
The extension of the Harlem Rail Line through the hamlet and the establishment of the Borden Milk Condensery brought many other business enterprises to Wassaic.
Exactly when the Wassaic school opened is uncertain, but the need for schooling of the growing young population must have required a school after the New York State Education Law of 1812 called for free public education.”
A distinctive feature of the Wassaic common school – besides its three rooms instead of the usual one – was the belfry from which a bell pealed the start of the school day throughout the little hamlet between the hills. Wassaic folks today remember the sound of the morning bell calling them to come to school.” (When the building last got a new roof, the belfry was taken down)

Lana Anguin begins the story:
“My recollection is that we sang carols with dear Mrs. Rundall and Mrs. Mahoney as a festive school activity, not with parents or other adults. There was not an evening program. We did have a tree, but I do not recall refreshments or games or gifts to or from teachers. Those were very frugal times by necessity.”
Suzanne continues:
“ Remember Mr. Oakley, the man who used to clean the sidewalks at the little school? I remember that he came and played Santa to us sitting in the music room (the big room between the two classrooms)".
Lana: (laughing)
“ He called out : ‘Merry Christmas - HO HO HO!’ Everyone said his Santa suit was on loan from the State School (Taconic DDSO) “
Sue:
“Mrs. Sutherland, our music instructor, came and we all sang the Christmas carols.
I do remember getting candy. I thought at first it was the boxed hard candy, but as I was talking with my sister in Vermont, she was sure it was a candy cane that Mrs. Rundall and Mrs.Mahoney had purchased for us. After all Mr. Mahoney owned part of the Mahoney & Crossen store in town.”
Suzanne:
“Remember the ‘Big Store’ ? (that’s what we called Mahoney & Crossen). Most people charged their groceries and then on payday they would settle up their bill. But Poughkeepsie did call to my Mother. We would go there maybe once every 6-8 weeks to shop.”
Lana:
“We went to Millerton sometimes to buy clothes. I do recall however in the front of Mahoney and Crossen’s store on the right as you looked in the door, on the very top shelf they still had high button shoes.”
Sue:
“…and Mr. Crossen (as he was the shortest) had a ladder that rolled the entire length of the front half of the store on both sides. They had merchandise up that high. I also remember the candy counter. It was a large rectangular glass case. Mr. Crossen or Mahoney - when my Dad would pay his bill on Friday - would tell me, ‘Take 10 cents worth of candy. They would hand me a little brown paper bag and I would go into the glass case filled with glass candy dishes and pick out 10 cents worth of candy. Wow - it sure was a lot.”
Lana:
“I don't remember any selling of Christmas trees or decorations from the Big Store (the Dime Store in Amenia had more of that), but at home we received presents from Santa wrapped and under our tree on Christmas morning. The tree had very large colored electric bulbs with the electric extensions straight out of the movie "A Christmas Story" Dad made the tree stand from wooden boards, really quite clever. And, I loved the special ornaments that came out to visit just once a year."
Suzanne:
“I could go on forever. It was a very good time in my life.”
Sue:
“Things seemed so much slower then…”
Lana:
"What a sweet innocent time – any wonder we still love Wassaic? "

********************************************************
Best Wishes from all of us at Indian Rock 1858 Schoolhouse
photos courtesy of Susan Brehm and Anne Lango

The Year of the Teacher - October

2010-10-23T17:32:00.000-07:00

The "Teachers' Walk" at Indian Rock Schoolhouse Picnic and Community Day

Barbara Wrobel ("Aunt Barbara") strolls up the special Teachers' Walk at Indian Rock Schoolhouse enjoying the photos of teachers whose biographies have been published on this blog. This portrait project has been a wonderful way to remember the teachers of our community and several from far away.

At the picnic other teachers were honored, in particular Ginny Armstrong, whose family attended the September festivities, remembering Ginny's life and many friends.

The late Justine Winters, much loved District Superintendent, was honored by the Amenia Lions gift of a bench, installed for the occasion in the new flower garden. Everyone was pleased that Charley Winters, Justine's husband, was able to come for a brief visit that day.

But the Year of the Teacher is not over yet...We take up the story again with the story of Kitty O'Brien written by her student Ginny Kane Eschbach, who was a teacher for many years just like her mentor...Mrs. O'Brien.

Kitty O’Brien

I looked forward to school every single day during my year in Seventh Grade. That was my year with Mrs. O’Brien. Those memories evoke warm feelings that remain so vivid after many decades. Her cheerfully decorated classroom at Sharon Center School reflected her nurturing approach to life with a cozy reading corner complete with a rocking chair and lighted lamps. Lovely plants lined the windowsills, and fresh flowers were always graciously accepted.
There was something reassuring about her beautiful smile that greeted us each morning. She genuinely cared that we were there. I have no memories of her ever raising her gentle voice, but I can hear her laughter when we shared our jokes with her.

One of my memories concerns the time a classmate experienced an extraordinary family tragedy. When he returned to school, Mrs. O’Brien gathered the class together and spoke so beautifully to him that her words have remained with me. It was clear that all of us would support him through his ordeal. I understand now how her empathy was a powerful example for her students.
Whether it was a creative writing task, a science project, or a math problem I remember being challenged, but I especially remember being encouraged to do my best. I recall that our work was thoughtfully displayed around the room, and that must have given us a sense of accomplishment. I remember her taking the time to praise us as well as our work. I recall her asking us for our thoughts and being encouraged to explore them. In retrospect, I realize that Mrs. O’Brien understood the importance of creating an environment that allowed each of us to be successful.

Because I shared my mother’s (Kay Kane) passion to teach, I observed what teaching involved outside of the classroom. Although I was aware of how much time and thought went into planning lessons and preparing materials, I understood her enthusiasm for her profession. But as a student, I was mostly influenced by my time with Mrs. OBrien. Imagine how thrilled I was when she arranged for me to spend time helping in the Kindergarten classroom. I still remember being encouraged to actually plan a lesson!
During my early years as a middle school teacher, I would find myself thinking- what would Mrs. O’Brien do or say. When it was appropriate, I actually incorporated some of her projects into my own teaching. I hoped that I was able to create the same environment for my students.
Then many years later, I returned to teach at Sharon Center. The first time I walked back into my old seventh grade classroom, those cherished memories returned. As students, I’m sure none of us realized that our seventh grade year would provide us with lifelong enrichment.
As a young mother, I became involved in the program at our parish’s CCD Office along side Mrs. O’Brien. I remember being a little nervous about our new relationship until she said, “Please call me Kitty”. I wonder if she understood how difficult it was to make the transition. What a privilege to have known such a wonderful person.

Submitted by Ginny Eschbach

2010 picnic- the particpants

2010-09-25T12:57:00.000-07:00

The boy scouts, the lions club, town banks, area schools, Freshtown, the chamber of commerce, food pantries, historical societies, the library and individuals all came and set up booths of interest. There was pie, cake, popcorn, apples, and BBQ chicken!

the 2010 picnic- a success!

2010-09-25T12:48:00.000-07:00

Thanks to Corey Bush, Ed McGhee and friends we had music and a fine time in great weather. All teachers got pins and ribbons to identify themselves. The whole community turned out to celebrate, catch up, and enjoy the picnic together under the pavilion

Leola Morrison Downey

2010-09-01T14:14:00.000-07:00

Leola Morrison Downey taught for 25 years - first in Millerton and then at Webutuck. I’m periodically asked: “What was it like to you have your mother as a teacher?”

It was my good fortune...and it had very little to do with the classroom.

On a personal level, growing up in the household of a teacher means living in an environment where information and thinking are valued. High standards are set. Your homework had better be done and you better do the best you can in anything you undertake. Though not always evident to me as a child, the value of that approach to life has become clearer over time.

On a broader level, because students reflect the community and family from which they come, my mother’s observations about young people gave me an early education about the complexity of the human mind and spirit. They also helped me better understand the factors which shaped the lives of my contemporaries and my community. The enduring value of those insights is greater than any I’ve received from my formal education.

Of course, there were some downside risks. My oldest friend has a wonderful sense of humor. He laughs easily and often. His classmates figured that out at an early age. Typical of young boys, we would make adolescent remarks under our breath in class to try to make him laugh. When he did, the teacher would reproach him and we would sit with innocent looks on our faces. In one of my “what-was-I-thinking-moments”, I tried it one day in my mother’s class. She looked right beyond my friend and said” Downey, cut that out” Nothing was said at dinner that night... nor did it need to be.

Among my mother’s papers, I found the following unattributed magazine clipping. I suspect she saved it because she agreed with it and found in inspiring. I gave a copy to her grandson, Evan, when he began his teaching career. If she were here now, this is what I think she would share with you about the importance of both her profession and her craft:

What Does It Mean to Be a Teacher?

It means stimulating young people to ask the great questions more than it means giving them the right answers; it means opening young minds to the excitement of new ideas; it means the adventurous search for all the great noble examples of people who have gone before us.

Lee Downey & Vi Simmons- A Special Friendship

2010-09-01T14:09:00.000-07:00

Miss Simmons knew me before I knew her. The connection was my mother.

Leola Morrison (Downey) and Violet Simmons met at the New York State College for Teachers at Albany in 1928. Students of modest means - as they both were - earned their room and board by working in the homes of families in Albany. Their interest in history, their wonderful senses of humor and their common experience of working their way through college led to a close friendship.

In 1934, Mom had finished some graduate work and Miss Simmons - who had returned to Millerton to teach 7th and 8th grade - told her of an opening for a 5th and 6th grade teacher.

She got the job. The fact that Miss Simmons’s father was president of the school board may have helped. When Mr. Simmons sent her information about her new job, he wrote on the back of it: “You’ll have to make good; I told the Board you were a wonder.” Why should we be surprised that Mom and Miss Simmons preached the gospel of high expectations?

Also written on those materials was the admonition: “Boyfriends for young lady teachers not encouraged.” Mom didn’t always take direction well. During her first few years of teaching, she took a shine to a handsome, charming guy who operated a gas station at Millerton’s checkerboard corner. She and Gus Downey were married in 1939.

That’s how I came into the picture.

The first significant memories I have of the relationship between my mother and Miss Simmons were from the period when Miss Simmons began to lose her vision. Her retinas began to detach and it was a frightening and difficult time for her. I have a recollection of many conversations between them about this and of my mother’s concern. Ultimately with the help of the medical community and the encouragement of her friends and colleagues - especially Dr. Josephine Evarts, Diane Hutchinson ( a nurse and former student), my mother and our superintendent, Myron Rindsberg - Miss Simmons decided to continue to teach.

As time passed, I grew to know Miss Simmons as a teacher and then as a friend. On the afternoon of her 90th birthday I called her and she told me with amazement and gratitude of all of the people who had contacted her that day. The next morning, sitting in her chair waiting for Alan “Dewey” Merwin to drive her to her regular hair appointment, she had a heart attack and died.

Like my mother, Miss Simmons had a remarkable ability to adjust to change while not changing in any fundamental way. During 48 years of teaching she saw extraordinary changes in her profession, in the students she taught and the world in which she taught them. During nearly half of that period she dealt with the trauma of diminishing eyesight. She adjusted, she persevered and she excelled.

Those values which guided her life have now found permanent expression in the Violet H. Simmons Scholarship Program which was started to honor her retirement and which she generously endowed at her death. The Program, with the help of the Berkshire Taconic Community Foundation, is administered by the Trustees of the Violet H. Simmons Scholarship Fund, Inc.; PO Box 496, Millerton, NY 12546.

by Ed Downey, class of '63

The Terni Clan's Long History as Educators

2010-08-22T12:33:00.000-07:00

Shortly after arrival in Millerton, most folks soon find their way to Terni's Store for a dish of ice cream, a cold soda, a paper, or even a glimpse of Millerton, the way it used to be.

A Country Store, in the purest sense of the word, Terni’s has been a presence on Main Street since the early 20th century. Featuring a diverse range of merchandise from fishing tackle, and candy, outdoor gear by Woolrich, Pendleton and Filson, to newspapers, magazines, case knives, and imported cigars - a warm welcome is still the most memorable aspect of the store.

Phil Terni, who now runs that familiar and long-time family establishment, is both the son (Assunta Terni , also known as "Madame Terni", was his mom)and husband of a teacher(many of you will remember wife Ellen W. Terni who taught at the Webutuck Elementary School and is now retired). There are many more teachers in the Terni clan .

Phil Terni's Aunt Esther

Phil's cousin, Susan Terni Taff, a former teacher - of course- wrote a reminiscence about her mom for our "Year of the Teacher" salute to the outstanding educators we have known. Our friends from Pine Plains easily recognize the name Esther "Esterinna" Peppe Terni.

Esther was born on April 21, 1912 to Archangelo and Maria Esternia Proia Peppe, the fourth of nine children. She grew up in Pine Plains, N.Y., loving music and caring for her younger siblings. She attended Seymour Smith Academy and the University of New York at New Paltz, where she graduated in 1934 as a teacher of kindergarten and primary grades. She taught at Jackson Corner one-room schoolhouse at the age of 19 as part of her teacher training.

Unidentified children at Jackson Corner school in 1931. Ester is in the center, back row

Cousin Susan writes: “My mom loved teaching and I believe she was quite good at it. She seemed to find the best in each student. She taught third grade most of her career... and, yes, she did try to encourage me to go into teaching, but I resisted. She was pleased when I finally started teaching later in life. My oldest sister was a teacher, as were some of my mother's siblings. My mother was forever going to night school to further her education, all while raising a family and working. I don't know how she did it! She had a lot of support from my father.”

Even after retiring, she served as a substitute in the Enfield School System until well into her 70s. Esther's greatest passion was for her "Teacher's Pet", her cottage at Point O'Woods Beach in South Lyme, where she spent the summers for over 45 years.

In 1937 Esther married Stephen Terni of Millerton, N.Y.

Stephen Terni and Phil's father, Art Terni, were brothers.
Esther's sister, Evelina Peppe-Lyle who is married to Chet Lyle, long-time Millerton insurance broker now living in nearby Connecticut.

Phil Terni says of his mom, the legendary 'Madame Terni' :

letter to the Millerton News back in June(6-17-10).

Watch your languages
My mother, Mrs. J.H.W. Terni, was the language teacher at the Millerton High School and later at the Webutuck Central School, retiring in 1972. When first she taught here, in the year of 1929, she taught Latin, French, and if I remember her saying correctly, Greek. The Greek was only offered for a short time, but she did continue with the French, Latin and English for many years after.

Phil goes on later to add: "I didn't think much about my mom being a teacher...at the time. Now I regret that I was not a better student. I never asked for help with my homework, for example.

My mother was from a little town called Marathon, New York. At Keuka College she developed a love for languages. When she came east to teach, she was popular and always had a good time.

She retired in 1972, but went back to school to coach her Regents Latin students who needed three years of Latin and had only one year when she retired.

She always loved music. She played the piano for musicals at the high school and played the organ for various churches in Millerton.

Her real favorites were her pets...dogs with classical names: Argus, Midas and Caesar.

Photo of Terni's Store courtesy of Jenny Hansell

Anne Moore Blownstine

2010-08-16T10:50:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite teachers was Anne Moore, later, Blownstine, who taught American History when I was in high school. In the thirties and forties she was also the coach of many a winning girl's basketball teams at Amenia High School

She had such enthusiasm for her subject that it sparked one's interest in spite of the sometimes dull parts of history. We were still in the midst of World War II when I was in high school, and she certainly helped us understand the causes and effects of the war and as it was happening she traced the progress of the Navy as it captured island after island in the Pacific- - we certainly learned our geography as well as the current events that were to become history.

I didn't know it at the time but she was a relative of the Murphy family and therefore my husband-to-be, Jim. They clashed occasionally and he was not as enthusiastic as I about her teaching. I think the reason Jim didn't like her was the subject. At that time he was milking cows twice a day and coming to school full time--real study was not on his agenda--except for Physics taught by Howard Lonsdale whom he liked as a teacher very much as well as liking the subject.

The photo in this article has been provided by Jim’s sister Catherine Murphy.

I have fond memories also of Gertrude Foley and "Mac" Kinney but Arlene Iuliano has already ably covered them. (See blog archives.)

Charlotte Murphy

Rose McKean- Romancing the Language

2010-08-06T06:17:00.000-07:00

We have recently had the good fortune to be in touch with an old friend from Amenia, Ken McKean. Ken grew up in Amenia and now lives in Florida having had a distinguished Air Force career. We wanted to do a little reminiscence about Mrs. McKean for the Schoolhouse Blog. When we asked Ken what he might feel about such a thing, he answered in the affirmative and included this brief little scene:

Time--- 1947/48
Setting--- Amenia High School---- Freshman classroom

Teacher--- Mrs. Rose S. McKean

Student--- Kenneth R. McKean

Situation--- Either Algebra 1 or Latin I class

Teacher asks-- are there any questions?

My hand goes up--- am never recognized!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Situation--- home on South Street in Amenia

Kenneth comes downstairs from doing homework with a question concerning either Latin or Algebra homework

Mother, sitting at dining room table grading papers, tells me for the 257th time, "Kenneth--- you know I am your teacher and cannot give you extra help at home" !!!!

End of Freshman year: Social Studies = A, English= A, Biology= A, Latin= D & Algebra = D.

Fall of 1948 I commence my plebe year @ Culver Military Academy, IN--the turning point in my road to "book learnin" & maturity.

I learned in later years that Miss Staunton, Mrs. Foley, Mr. Bonville, Miss Cogan & Mrs. Tripp, all counseled her to at least give me a chance ? !

Looking back---- a blessing in disguise?

Rose S. McKean was one of that cadre of very fine teachers that made up the Amenia High School, later to be the Webutuck Central School , faculty. Mrs. McKean had the thankless job of introducing endless numbers of the local progeny to Latin and French. She never gave it less than her best. For some of us it was a mystery never to be penetrated. For others of us, however, it was as if a light had gone on in our social and intellectual development.
Mrs. McKean’s favorite trick on Day One (or is it Day I?) of Latin I was to arrive for the class carrying three dictionaries--Latin, French, and English. She proceeded to demonstrate that fully half of the English dictionary came from the Latin one. She illustrated this by opening the English dictionary to the middle and leaving it flat on her desk. But fully ninety percent of the French dictionary came from the Latin one! That, too, was deposited on her desk in a ninety to ten ratio. It was a stunning object lesson to the novices who were about to embark on the study of a dead language.
Mrs. McKean knew as well as anybody that to study a language is not only to learn the grammar and vocabulary, but it also to enter a different civilization, a different world view, and a different way of thinking. For me her enthusiasm was everything. She encouraged one to learn to learn more deeply about the individual culture. That is precisely what happened to me at university where I pretty much devoured what the French department had to offer. I was always assured that my background was so strong, I would have an enjoyable time of it. And so I did.

One of the interesting things about working in a language that is not your own is that you do begin to see the logic, the rhyme and reason of the other country, if you will. In my case, I learned this rule again from her when I ran into trouble with first year Algebra. It was a complete and total mystery to me, and I began to fail badly. Fortunately for me, my parents asked Mrs. McKean to tutor me; to see if she could get me going. She approached it as if we were learning another language with its own syntax, rules of grammar and such. Within a few weeks she had me seeing the light.

And to this day I think of Mrs. McKean whenever I hear someone say something involving unknowns; I find myself saying ‘ Two trains leave Chicago at the same time going in different directions… ‘

Barnett Epstein

If you wish to comment on this reminiscence, add some details or send Barney a message, write to IndianRockschool@aol.com

Want to write your own story about a teacher who changed your life? Same address. Send Word file, and a JPEG photo 72 to 150 dpi.

Sister Grace and Browny, or Sister Theophane part II

2010-06-26T16:58:00.000-07:00

During the 1970's both the names and the styles of the habits the nuns wore changed. Each order had different regulations and changed at a different time. Sister Theophane became Sister Grace and no longer wore the old habit. Her teaching style remained the same, however.

It is told that on the first day Sister Grace wore her new shorter skirt, she noticed that the children were staring at her legs and feet.
"Well, " she said, "what did you expect -wheels?"

Browny was a neighborhood pet who belonged to Maryann & Dick LaMay. Every day Browny and several other dogs visited their friends at Immaculate Conception School, but none of the canines loved school as much as Browny. She loved to stay right in the classroom with the children, sleeping peacefully while they learned their lessons.

On occasion, the whole group would take a break to play and laugh, then Maryann would have to come to school and take Browny home for the day. When class photos were taken, Browny posed proudly right next to Sister Grace, her favorite teacher.

A letter to Indian Rock in response to our inquiry about the names of the children in Browny's class:

My name is Ann Marie Golding-Lull. I read the article in this weeks Harlem
Valley Times. I am one of the students in the picture that is shown with the
article. When I looked at the picture before reading the article I realized
that it was my class picture. I think that picture was taken when I was in
the 2 nd grade.It brought back the fond memories of when I was a child going
to ICS. I still know all the students names in my class.

from left to right
top row :Richard Ellis,Shonnan Quinn, Mark Leopole, Steven Norbert, Frank
Cooper, bottom row left to right: Ann Marie Golding, Tonya Melman, Melissa
Mercay, Mary Piggott, Mary Lamont and Monica Anderson.Hopefully this helped
solved the mystery for this one picture.

Do you have more Sister Theophane stories? E-mail us at IndianRockschool@aol.com

Sister Grace (Sister Theophane)

2010-06-18T13:29:00.000-07:00

There are people and places we return to in our minds. We return to them because they give us solace and strength, and because they have served to make us who we are. One of the most memorable people in my life is Sr. Grace, or Sr. Theophane, as we knew her at the Immaculate Conception School in 1962.

Funny, formidable, friendly and firm: these are four words that described Sr. Grace. She did not brook nonsense, but she loved to laugh. She expected the best from her students, but not perfection. She punctuated our days with amusing stories, and a rare, self-effacing wit. One story I recall was about a mother who had unexpected company for Sunday dinner. She took two of her children aside, and told them to say, “No, thank you,” when the platter of chicken was passed at the table. When it came time to serve dessert, the mother said, “As for those who refused to eat their chicken, you’ll be having no pie!"

Photo: Sister Theophane with little Tommy McEniff

courtesy of the Walsh family

We considered it a great privilege to meet Sister coming across from the convent, and carry her book bag into school; or to spend time in her company while she was on duty at recess. Sr. Grace certainly taught us academics, but she also taught us to sing. Periodically, Sister supervised the entire student body in hymn singing, allowing the other sisters to provide religious instruction to children from the public school.

Her support and guidance did not end with being my teacher in 3rd and 4th grade. Sr. Grace welcomed me into her second grade classroom to observe when I was completing my undergraduate degree at New Paltz. This opportunity helped me to complete course requirements and develop my skills as a teacher.

Sister once paid me an extravagant compliment: “She can do anything she wants to do!” I heard her tell my mother. These words have been a powerful touchstone for me in difficult or discouraging situations. Now, I would like to return the compliment: Some of the most important things I have done were inspired by Sr. Grace. I hear her in my teaching and in the hymns I sing. She is part of that inner dialogue that defines me as a person, and that has shaped me for service in this world.

I have come to know that teaching, more than anything else, is about relationships. These relationships may last only a short time for a teacher. But they last a lifetime for the child who lives in us all. As a teacher, I try very hard to remember this, and I am grateful for the relationship I had with Sr. Grace, a warm and generous person, who has meant so much to me.

Nancy L. Nowak (Thompson)
nowax@bellsouth.net

Nancy earned a B.S. from SUNY New Paltz in Education and English, an M.S. from Lesley College in Human Service Management, and an M.S. in Elementary Education from The University of New Haven. She is a National Board certified teacher, and has been employed by the Palm Beach County School Board for over 14 years. She is a niece of Amenia's much loved teacher, Joan Murphy.

Sister Helen Proper

2010-05-31T08:46:00.000-07:00

Sister Helen Marie Proper, formerly Sr. M. Scholastica, was a member of the Sisters of St. Dominic of Blauvelt, New York. She was a nun for 54 years until her death on August 23, 1996 at the age of 75.
Sr. Helen Marie Proper was born August 12, 1921 in Amenia . Her parents were Earl and Margaret Proper. She entered the Sisters of St .Dominic from the parish of the Immaculate Conception in September 9, 1942, received the Dominican habit on August 24, 1943, professed her first vows on August 25, 1944 and her perpetual vows on September 2, 1947.
Sister’s many years of active ministry were devoted to teaching. She was a dedicated educator as teacher and principal in many schools in the Archdiocese of New York. She taught in Our Lady of the Assumption School in the Bronx from 1945 to 1948; St. Dominic’s School, Blauvelt, NY from 1949to 1950; St. Benedict’s in the Bronx from 1951 to 1957 and St Mary’s School , Bronx, N.Y., from, 1957 to 1962.
Sister also taught at the St. Pius School, Bronx, N.Y. from 1962 to1964, Immaculate Conception School, Amenia, N.Y. from 1964 to 1967, St. Luke’s School, also in the Bronx and St. Colamba (?) School in Hopewell Junction from 1985 through 1991.

Sister was principal of Immaculate Conception School from 1970 – 1985. She was highly respected and much loved by the students in Amenia and, in fact, by the entire community.

Sister Helen Marie Proper returned to St. Dominic’s Convent Infirmary in 1991 and ministered in varied volunteer servi ces at the Motherhouse. She was also very faithful to her ministry of prayer for the intentions of the sisters, the Blauvelt Community and its benefactors until her death on August 23, 1996.

Sister Helen Proper has a sister, Betty Scarlotta of Granville, New York, and two brothers - Earl Proper Jr. of Sun Coty, Arizona and Raymond Proper of Amenia. She was predeceased by her brothers, Vincent, John and Francis.

Dick and Edna Miller- Both Parents were Teachers

2010-05-13T06:25:00.000-07:00

Mary Miller Fitzgerald, Webutuck class of 1978 writes:

I was elected (by my sister Martha and brother David) to write a few words about our parents, Dick and Edna Miller, both of whom were teachers.

What a great idea to remember the teachers! If it wasn't for the teachers we would not be where we are today. It just happens to be teacher appreciation week at my son's school here in Sarasota, so I am blessed to have been a child of teacher parents and know how hard they work and how much they deserve to be pampered for a week.

Good and Bad Points

Having parents as teachers has good points and bad points. It was great having them close by everyday knowing if there was a problem they were there to help in any way they could, but having parents in school - you could not get away with anything.
I can remember one day in 4th grade when I was caught wearing pants in school. Required dress had always been dresses for girls and pants for boys. We had P.E once a week and the girls could change into pants for the class then back into "street clothes" for the rest of the day.

Even though they had changed dress code and all the girls were wearing pants to school, my Dad said that Martha and I still had to wear skirts/dresses to school. After P. E. one day I didn't put my skirt back on. It didn't take long for my Dad to find me and my skirt went back on.

Even having parents as teachers was very difficult. I think they were harder on us than the other kids. I remember doing many extra reports and memorizing The Preamble Constitution of the United States of America for passing notes in class.

Having them at home as parents/teachers was great. We always were the first to know when it was a snow day! We also had help with all our homework. I used to think my Dad was the smartest man in the world. (I still think he is.)
My mom was great to have also helping with homework and the music part of our lives. We all played the piano and an instrument and sang in the choir.

I wouldn't change any part of our growing up with parents as teachers. We all respect and appreciate the teachers of America. It’s a tough job and my hat is off to them.

Mary

The Mysterious Pumpkin Meeting

Principal Eileen Sicina, left, advises staff on the uses of magic pumpkins. From left to right: Dick Miller, Doris Smith, Eileen Reiling, Karen Jaquith and Shirley Conklin

Edna Miller remembers:

Dick and I were both from upstate New York and met at Wassaic “State School” (now known as the Taconic Learning Center). We were in a group of thirteen new teachers hired in 1952 – Dick was the Physical Education teacher and I taught music. Our group of teachers socialized together and often had an apartment or rooms at Mrs. Benson’s farm in Dover Plains. After several years I began to teach in the Dover School system where I taught music to all the grades from kindergarten through high school, as well as band and chorus. Several years later Dick took the position of P.E. teacher at Webutuck, where he also coached baseball , Little League and Babe Ruth as well as high school basketball, (earning the long-time nickname of “Coach”).

Dick took courses to get his principal’s license in the 1960’s and served as principal of both the Amenia and Millerton Primary Schools until he decided to return to the classroom being tired of “only seeing kids in trouble”.
I spent several years working part-time or substituting while the children were little, finally becoming the music teacher at Webutuck where I taught until 1985, Dick until 1986.

The secret to our successful marriage and family was that we strictly kept school business at school….and family issues at home.

Anyone who ever visited the Miller’s big old house always found it full of kids, their friends, plans for trips, music, and a dining room table with many, many small dishes of pickles, relishes, olives and jams to go with the ample food, and extra chairs for visitors. There was never a word about school, unless there had been a very funny or crazy incident there. Edna made the pickles and relishes from vegetables picked by the children in Dick’ garden just out back.
Ann Linden

Ella Staunton- everyone knew her

2010-04-25T06:01:00.000-07:00

My Favorite Teacher was Ella F. Staunton

Her home was in Poughkeepsie, N.Y. and she went home every weekend during the school year.
Miss Staunton’s first school was in Amenia Union, one-room schoolhouse, District #2. She boarded during the week with the Collin Smiths who ran the local general store.
She not only taught the basic studies but also oral hygiene, the appreciation of music, and banking. We each had an account in a Poughkeepsie saving bank and she took our few cents every week to deposit.
Ella Staunton wanted us to see the outside world and took the four of us who were graduating to Albany to the (New York State) Museum and the Government Building. I can remember sitting in the Governor’s chair. My last year of school there she drove four of us to Washington, D.C. to see the sights. It was a thrill for me to be able to take a snap shot of President and Mrs. Hoover. We also went to Mt. Vernon.

While teaching in Amenia Union, Ella organized a 4H Club for us. I was secretary. We made items and exhibited them at the Dutchess County Fair – also canned vegetables, etc. I have many ribbons but did not keep them.
Later Miss Staunton taught at Sinpatch school and then at the “brick school” in Amenia. She taught my daughter, Celeste Monahan, in the first grade and when the school finally added a kindergarten, she was the teacher. I believe this is what she really trained for.
Miss Staunton is buried in Union Cemetery in Amenia Union along with her parents.

Amenia Union schoolhouse student body in 1931: from left, Peter Prendergast, Mildred Moyer, Paul MacDonald, Doris Wheeler, Virginia guiden, Elsie MacDonald, Ester Gourlay, Evelyn Murphy, Geraldine Whitney, and Carloyn Murphy (small child in front)

Ester Gourlay Pollard is a member of the Amenia Historical Society and long-time member of the Indian Rock Schoolhouse Association. Having lived in the area for many years, she is a great source of historical information. She will be a lecturer at St. Thomas church in Amenia Union this spring, recounting her memories of the Grange in Amenia Union.

Gertrude Foley and Marion Kinney- My Favorite Teachers

2010-04-24T18:33:00.000-07:00

Mrs. Foley

My favorite teacher when I was an elementary student at the Amenia High School was Mrs. Gertrude Foley. She taught grades 3 and 4 which were in the same room. This was in the years 1934 and 1935 and I had just transferred from the Waterbury Conn. school system to the New York system. Prior to that I had begun Kindergarten in Detroit, Mich. This was my third school in as many years. It was the Depression era. I now lived just north of the school on the Roland Palmer farm, being managed by William McEnroe. I walked along Route 22 to get to school. Sometimes I roller skated.

I was 8 year’s old when Mrs. Foley welcomed me to her classroom which was a really comfortable place. She made me feel good about myself and my ability to learn. I always looked forward to going to school. I remember, especially, the cursive writing exercises and the times table drills, among others. I also remember that she and her family lived across the street from the school and that made me feel good that she was always near-by.

Marion Kinney
On entering High School, which was in the same building, I had to choose a major. I chose a Business curriculum. A newly graduated Business teacher had just joined the faculty, Marion McDonald. She was petite, soft-spoken, knew her subjects well, and made you feel you belonged in her classroom. As most of her classes were Regents finals, we could feel very confident of being successful when we got to that test, as long as we had done our part. “Miss McDonald” was my favorite teacher while I was in high school and enabled me to successfully achieve my Regents Diploma and my High School Diploma, copies of which I have kept to this day. She married local farmer George Kinney, had 2 children, and later taught Kindergarten in the Webutuck Central School system. As a South Street neighbor our families were friends over the years; and, she was godmother to one of my children.

Both ladies, in their quiet, positive ways of teaching made me like to be in school, and enjoy learning. And in those years, New York State was ranked #1 in the country for its educational system. These ladies were two of the reasons why.

Arlene Iuliano served as Amenia Town Supervisor and is currently the Amenia Town Historian. She had a successful career in management at the Taconic D.D.S.O., and is the mother of five, grandmother of ten and has four great -grandchildren.

Violet Hope Simmons: 1911 - 2001- A Remembrance

2010-04-16T07:50:00.000-07:00

Vi Simmons was the best teacher I ever had.

She was tough, challenging, opinionated and intimidating.

On my first day in ninth grade, after everyone had been seated, she stalked to the front of the room and informed us that we were “the rudest class I’ve ever seen,” because only two of us had greeted her as we entered the room. I am sure none of us ever failed to say “good morning” to her from then on.

As a student, I regarded her with awe. The breadth of her knowledge was amazing and her enthusiasm for history was contagious. She expected us to read the New York Times, which was difficult for me because my parents wouldn’t have it in the house. We compromised on the Herald Tribune, since the Daily News, in her opinion was only good for wrapping fish.
Practically every day, I carried home an arm load of books so I could complete the reading since we did not use a textbook. I first learned to analyze primary sources and understood that historians often disagreed about their interpretations. Class discussions were lively and frequent.
My relationship with her changed to one of friendship when I was in college and she underwent eye surgery in Boston. She was candid about the difficulties her lack of vision posed. It often seemed to us, as students, that she knew everything that went on in class, though we weren’t sure how. Now I understood how important that “good morning” was from each person. It was her context, her way of taking attendance and sensing our mood.

When I became a history teacher, Vi Simmons was my inspiration and my mentor. She believed that every child is capable of learning and every child must be challenged to think. Every now and then, when my students are engaged in an effective discussion, I remember Miss Simmons standing in front of our class with a little smile on her face and I understand.

Janet M. Reagon
Janet Reagon began teaching Social Studies in 1981 – the year Miss Simmons retired.

article originally published in The Millerton News 3.8.01

“Legacy of Excellence”…The Violet H. Simmons Scholarships

When Miss Simmons retired in 1981 after 48 years of teaching at Webutuck, her former students, colleagues and community members established The Violet H. Simmons Scholarship Fund to award a scholarship to outstanding graduates who demonstrated academic excellence and leadership potential. This year the 33rd Simmons Scholar will be named at the Webutuck Awards Ceremony.

More recently, due to the generosity of the late Barbara Thorlichen Riefle, a former student of Miss Simmons and a Webutuck graduate, VHSSF has been able to offer a Summer Enrichment Grant to deserving college students to study abroad, travel, or participate in a program they could not otherwise afford. Students have studied photography and filmmaking, traveled to Cuba, China, Brazil, and Africa, and worked with the children of incarcerated women.

“This gift to music students at Webutuck represents a great benefit because it targets younger students,” said Janet Reagon. “Now VHSSF can assist people when they are still in high school, as they graduate, and while they are in college. This certainly helps continue the legacy of excellence that Miss Simmons inspired.”

A Catalyst for Community Giving
The Webutuck High School Summer Enrichment Music Fund has been established by a gift of Dan and Nancy Brown of Amenia to the Violet H. Simmons Scholarship Fund to provide music students at Webutuck with the opportunity to attend summer music programs or obtain private lessons. As with all VHSSF funds, the money will be administered by the Berkshire Taconic Community Foundation, Inc., a regional community fund with offices in Great Barrington, MA.
For more information call Berkshire Taconic at 413-528-8039 or go to http://www.berkshiretaconic.org/

Please share your memories of Violet H. Simmons! Go to comments below.

John Quinn: I Remember Grade School

2010-04-06T18:56:00.000-07:00

...

John Quinn has been a staunch supporter

of Indian Rock Schoolhouse from the very beginning

My elementary education took place in Edgewater, New Jersey, a 15 minute ferry ride from New York City. It was in Public School No. 2, a small but modern two-story brick building between fittingly named Undercliff Avenue and River Road. Public School No. 1 was three miles down the pike at the other end of town.
Of the eight teachers I had, I really only remember Miss Beck in the first grade and Mrs. Warren our eighth grade teacher and also the school principal.
There was no preparatory program like nursery school or kindergarten so starting school was an abrupt change from my sheltered life at home.

The day started with the high-pitched noise and bustle of youngsters in the schoolyard.
Then suddenly a quiet and order signaled by the electric school bell and the appearance of our teacher, Miss Beck standing by the school door. Miss Beck appeared to us seemingly the same every day: a dark wool skirt that hung down to the high-laced boots; generally a cardigan sweater over a plain blouse and her grey hair gathered in a bun behind. The tone was set – we were going to learn. We sat up straight in ordered rows, hands clasped on our desk tops, eyes following Miss Beck at the front of the room.
Besides introducing us to the building blocks of the “three R’s”, we were learning the simple social skills of discipline and getting along with others.

The Day at P.S. 2
We came to find an excited pleasure in raising our hand with the answer and realizing the rewards of a good performance. If the week had gone well, Friday afternoon Miss Beck would take out a book well known and loved by the pupils and read a story or two to the class.
Another of our extra-curricular joys were the classroom chores parceled out through the week - raising or lowering the window shades, cleaning the blackboard erasers, watering the plants, passing out things to the class.

Miss Beck was always there
Miss Beck was always there before we got to school and was gone only after we had left. But we seemed to know that she lived alone in a house part way up the Palisades. There was a rugged path through the woods to her house that looked down on the road.
Miss Beck was still teaching fortunate Edgewater youngsters when the Quinn family moved from the town.

Mrs. Warren and the Blue Grotto
My first recollections of Mrs. Warren are as principal conducting the school assembly of all the grades. Held in the gym, assemblies involved a prayer, salute to the flag, several songs and a reading or talk about current happenings. I remember one assembly when Mrs. Warren told us about her summer vacation trip to Europe, and about her visit to the Blue Grotto – an island cave in Italy. She described how you had to crouch over in the boat to enter and then how the grotto opened. She told us how the boatmen sang Italian melodies and demonstrated by singing and teaching the song “Santa Lucia”. It became one of the favorite of our assemblies.

Another of her innovations was having us gather in the gym for the weekly radio broadcast of Walter Damrosh and the WEAF Symphony Orchestra in a program aimed at introducing school children to classical music. We learned to identify the sounds of the orchestra instruments and got to know the story behind a number of various compositions.
Our eighth grade class of several dozen boys and girls never seemed to faze Mrs. Warren. The rote and routine of normal school subjects were enlivened by a spirited give and take between pupils and teacher. And this informal rapport went beyond the classroom. She had introduced Manual Training or Shop for the boys and Home Economics – sewing and cooking – for the girls

Class for the Flat-footed

One year, after the school doctor’s physical check-up of the children, a flat feet class was inaugurated and a shoeless Mrs. Warren led a group of us similarly affected in a pigeon-toed parade around the room and then in an exercise picking up marbles with our toes. I’m not sure it did any of us any good but through it all, Miss Warren lost none of her high sense of dignity.

George's birthday
It was in 1932, the bicentennial of George Washington’s birth when we graduated. The George Washington Bridge was opened over the Hudson and at the same time Public School No. 2 was renamed for our nation’s first president.

Mrs. Warren had readied part of the Greatest Generation for the world out there, even for a rather dispirited game of Spin the Bottle at a party of ice cream and cake after our commencement exercises.

John Quinn is a Trustee Emeritus of the Schoolhouse Association. He has written articles, press releases and even a book about schoolhouses (“Memories from a Country Schoolhouse”). He lives in Leedsville with his wife the irrepressible Margaret Duffy Erskine Quinn.

Ginny Armstrong-From a Family of Teachers

2010-03-30T18:47:00.000-07:00

One of our community’s long-time educators passed away in 2009.

I had known Ginny Armstrong since I had been in her fourth grade class in Amenia Elementary School in the late 1950s. She was one of several influential teachers in my life.

Ginny’s soft voice, gentle nudging and high expectations were just what I needed as a young, insecure child. I had such a positive feeling about school and myself that year. I remember her as the youngest, prettiest, kindest teacher I had ever known and I idolized her. I am certain that my decision to become a teacher took root that year.

Twenty-seven years later my daughter had the good fortune to become a student of Ginny’s in her first grade classroom. Coincidently, I was hired during that same school year to work with the first grade team. As a co-teacher Ginny was generous with her time, ideas and supplies. As the teacher of my child she was the same soft-spoken, encouraging teacher I had known as a child.

When Ginny retired at the end of that year I was offered her position and classroom. For the next twenty-three years I felt Ginny’s presence in my classroom as I worked with my own first graders. I feel fortunate to have crossed paths with this special woman several times through the years.

Gail Gamble

Ginny Armstrong surrounded by several of her many friends. L to R: Doris Smith, Ginny, Sylvia Clark, Linda Bruzgul and Marilyn Smith. Person in front: unknown. Photo taken in the early 80's.

Lots of teachers in the family!

Ginny was the oldest of 5 sisters.

Her sisters are: Joan, Carol, Linda and Sue.
Ginny and her sister Joan attended a one-room school house in Millbrook. It was called "Shady Dell",and is located on Shady Dell Lane, a dirt road off 343 in Millbrook.

Ginny's mother Anna Sherow, taught for many years in another one room schoolhouse in Millbrook, New York. Daughter Jane was a Professor of the Biology at a Community College near Sparta, New Jersey for 12 years until moving to an administrative position, where she currently works.

Jane says of her teacher mother: "My mom was my inspiration because I enjoyed going to work with her and she helped me get a teacher's aide summer job at the state school and Webutuck district when I was home for the summers from college."

Ginny's sister Joan became a teacher of physical education in Valley Stream.

Ellen Walsh

Maude Smith Rundall- Two for the Road

2010-03-06T16:43:00.000-08:00

Mrs. Mahoney and Maude Smith Rundall in front of the Wassaic Schoolhouse

TWO FOR THE ROAD
By Gerry Holzman

Even though Maude Rundall and Herb Akleman were a highly unlikely pair, they remain forever linked in my memory because of their mutual disdain for the law.

Mrs. Rundall., a very proper married woman, could easily be spotted as she poked along the roads of Amenia in her 1939 gray Plymouth two-door sedan. Herb Akelman, the epitome of a post-World War II unmarried playboy, could usually be heard before he was seen as he roared around that same town in a red 1949 Oldsmobile convertible with dual exhausts.

Indian Rock board member, Ellen Walsh, got a letter back from Lynne Akelman (Herb Akelman’s daughter) Ellen sent her an Amenia Cookbook and Ellen tells us that Lynn loved the cookbook and shared the pictures,stories, and recipes with Herb. Herb will not own up to the car story, but does remember coaching the football team.

At the time of the incidents referred to above, he was tall, thin and in his early twenties. She was short, plump and in her middle fifties. He was the son of our local dry cleaner and she was the Superintendent of Schools. He pitched for the Town baseball team and was known to enjoy the post-game festivities even more than the game itself. She presided over a ladies church group and was often complemented on the beauty of her flower garden.

From this brief catalog of characteristics it is obvious that Herb Akelman and Maude Rundall had little in common. But, because of their crimes, separate crimes in which I was innocently involved, I am unable to remember one of them without being reminded of the other.

The memory link that connects them is quite clear—it is the Traffic Laws of the State of New York. They both violated one of these laws while I was a passenger, you might even say a potential victim, riding in their cars.

We'll start with Herb Akelman. His crime involved not only me but nearly half of the Amenia High School football team.

It was the afternoon of the Pine Plains--Amenia game and Herb, a volunteer assistant coach, had offered to transport some of us players to Pine Plains, a distance of about 15 miles. It was decided that he would drive the linemen in his red Oldsmobile convertible while our regular coach would take the remainder of the team in his plodding Ford station wagon.

In those days in Amenia, it was possible to transport an entire football team in two cars, not because cars were larger but because teams were smaller. Centralized school districts were not yet widespread in upstate New York so high schools with fewer than 100 students were quite common. If such a school wanted to play football, it usually was six-man football; the Amenia team, including substitutes, consisted of nine “brawny” boys.

Herb took four of us in his red convertible. As we tooled along rural Route 22 with the top down, Herb shouted back to us. "Any of you guys every go 100 miles an hour?" Without waiting for an answer, he continued shouting over the rapidly increasing wind, "Well, hang on tight because we’re gonna do it now."

I remember looking over his shoulder at the speedometer and saw that the needle was nearing 80. It moved past eighty and began inching toward the 90 mark. I turned away and looked out the back. Never have I seen a road disappear more rapidly--trees and pavement were merged into a gray-green blur. That blur mingled with the roaring wind to intensify what quickly developed into an exhilarating sense of motion. It was as if we were experiencing all the thrilling excitement of a roller-coaster ride without any of its stomach-flipping terror.

In the midst of all this came a jubilant shout from the front seat, "We did it!”

Herb took his foot off the accelerator, and the speedometer returned to a respectable fifty. It was over; we had broken the 100 mile an hour barrier--and the New York State traffic law.

I have absolutely no memory of any remaining part of the afternoon. I assume we arrived safely in Pine Plains and either won, lost or tied the game.

I've never gone 100 miles an hour since then although once I did nudge the 80 mark. But that wasn’t in a red convertible with the top down on a perfect fall day in upstate New York.

Now Maude Rundall's criminal act was certainly not as daring nor as willful as Herb's but I’m sure it was a serious motor vehicle violation nonetheless. It grew out of an eighth grade field trip to Hyde Park, a visit which took place took place shortly after President Franklin D. Roosevelt's death.

Mrs. Rundall and the Principal, Mr. Lonsdale (who also taught Geometry, Trigonometry, Chemistry and Physics) were the drivers on this round-trip of some sixty miles. Mrs. Rundall drove her old gray Plymouth, Mr. Lonsdale drove his relatively new Buick. And into those two automobiles. they somehow crammed fourteen eighth graders--each one of us carrying a good-sized lunch box, a notebook and an ink pen.

How they did it, I'll never know. Since it was before the days of seat belts and instant litigation, they probably saw no harm or worry in it. I clearly recall being in the front seat of Mrs. Rundall’s car with at least two other kids sharing that place of honor with me. And only God and Mrs. Rundall knew how many of my class mates were packed into the rear of that two-door gray Plymouth. As for Mr. Lonsdale, I’m sure his formidable background in Physics enabled him to successfully stuff great quantities of the remaining students into his relatively new Buick.

But somehow, we did manage to arrive safely and had a truly memorable visit to FDR"s ancestral home--I still clearly recall the grandeur of the house and the magnificent view of the Hudson it commanded. Most of us listened attentively to Mrs. Rundall who acted as our guide and we dutifully took notes in our loose-leaf notebooks with our ink pens. I even made a crude sketch in my notebook of a jeweled, ivory handled sword that had been given to FDR by an Arab sheik.

When we finished our tour, we had our promised picnic lunch on the gently slopping lawn. After lunch, all fourteen of us agreeably resumed our cramped places in the relatively new Buick and the old gray Plymouth and had an uneventful trip home. (I strongly suspect that my life-long interest in history was awakened by that visit)

But Maude Rundall, Superintendent of Schools for the Union Free District of Amenia, aided and abetted by Principal Howard Lonsdale, surely must have broken some significant Motor Vehicle Law. You simply can't safely put two adults and fourteen eighth graders, each one carrying a lunch box, a loose-leaf notebook and an ink pen, inside an old gray Plymouth two-door sedan and a relatively new Buick coupe

So, Herb Akelman and Maude Rundall, even though you stand before the bar of memory as indisputable criminals whose irresponsible acts clearly endangered the life of a young, innocent schoolboy, I forgive you. And with the wisdom granted me by the twin gods of Retrospection and Introspection, I thank you.

Two For The Road –(1,175 words)
©2007, Gerry Holzman
escarousel@aol.com

Indian Rock Schoolhouse Association Vice President, Ellen Walsh, sends this special message about the Akelman family. Stay tuned!

Alyce Proper at the Wassaic School

2010-02-08T12:43:00.000-08:00

She was my teacher at the three room Wassaic School for grades 4, 5 and 6.

I feel she was a caring, friendly person always ready to give a helping hand and always ready with an interesting project for her students to do.
My favorite teacher was Alyce Proper.

I remember once being invited – along with several others - to her home for dinner. I think that was because we were her “special helpers” that year. I am sure it was her caring attitude and the interesting activities that made me want to be a teacher too.

My years in the Wassaic School generated many happy memories. The nature walks, the special lunch program, morning chapel, access to lots of books and the special holiday activities are just a few of them.
My time with Mrs. Proper was during World War II and those were hard economic times. Thus these outlets at school were important to me and to the children of Wassaic.

Doris Smith
February, 2010

Doris Smith attended the State University at New Paltz to prepare for her teaching career at Webutuck where she taught for over 40 years. She retired in 1995, but returned to work to do special consulatation in combining grades and academic intervention.

Rhoda Lubalin's Aunt Helen

2010-02-06T16:23:00.000-08:00

Welcome to Indian Rock Schoolhouse’s Year of the Teacher!
The Association has set aside 2010 as the year to recognize the teachers from the past and present who have worked so hard to share their knowledge with us. Members of the Schoolhouse Association have agreed to write their reminiscences, hoping those writings will strike a note of familiarity in all of you.

A Letter to Aunt Helen

Dearest Aunt Helen,

When you came to visit, as the door opened, an amazing aroma would waft from the bags you carried, conjuring up exotic places. Delicious. Mouthwatering. CHEESE! Not dull, orange American cheese, wrapped in plastic like a mummy. No. Enclosed artfully in heavy paper of some sort, with room to breathe. Often overtaken by, was that mold ? I always wondered what your fellow subway and bus travelers suspected. As you followed the cheese through the door, you generally wore a woven hat from some far off land or a garment that was somewhat unique.

How delicious were the treats you brought to my brother and me. Chocolate in the guise of gold coins, marzipan pretending to be flowers and vegetables. Pomegranates, avocados, artichokes and how to eat them. Silver jewelry from Mexico, of wondrous design. Your letters from foreign lands were long and descriptive as you sought to imbue us with a lust for travel. You rode a donkey into the Grand Canyon before it was fashionable and possibly would have thrust yourself over the Falls at Niagara if it had been legal.

As a teacher you were relentless in stressing education. You fervently wished that I speak French as fluently as you, so that when I went to France I might be mistaken for a native. You were a Spanish-English business secretary and could deliver a speech in German. You were in the process of mastering Russian. Language was, to you, a delicious mouth watering edible.

Earning you PhD with honors in French Literature while teaching elementary school, typing and proof- reading other candidates’ thesis, and tutoring every child who might need it. I marveled at your skills at the typewriter. Your fingers knew exactly where to go without your having to look at them. Of course, unlike mine, your spelling was impeccable.

What a compassionate person you were. Not only on a personal basis but seemingly for every oppressed or maltreated people everywhere. Marching in the May Day Parade was a must. Working for the newly formed Teacher’s Union in NYC. Signing petitions to right a wrong.

When we were little guys you purchased season tickets to the children’s concerts at Carnegie Hall. How delightful was that? The Sorcerers’Apprentice became a friend, and every character in Peter and the Wolf was a familiar personality long before Disney turned them into cartoons. The only thing that might deter you would be a bout with poison sumac, after a hike. But as soon as you recovered you picked up your binoculars and once again sallied forth into the woods and trails.

Aunt Helen, dear, what a constant teacher you were. I’m still trying to emulate you and live up to your expectations. Often it has been a supreme challenge. How did you do it all and with such joy and exhilaration?

Whatever door you knocked on or bell you rang, when asked “Who is it?”
you responded, “It is I !”
And so you were. “It is I”, is the perfect response in any language.

I love you. I miss you. Your niece Rhoda

P.S. It was only later on that I found out what else was in your bags. A newspaper or two, a change of underwear and a toothbrush. After all, one never knows when one might be invited to stay.

Rhoda Lubalin is an artist, a former art teacher and a "Lifelong Learner" in the Indian Rock Schoolhouse Association. She is a charter member who is present at every Arbor Day celebration, every fundraiser, every

picnic and participates with great enthusiasm just as her Aunt Helen would have had she been with us today.

Jennie Cogan is remembered

2010-01-17T16:43:00.000-08:00

By Gerry Holtzman

Whenever I think of her, my mind fills first with strong tones of black and gray, punctuated by brief traces of white. Out of those somber shadows, a tiny figure slowly emerges and I see Jennie Cogan once more.

She wears a severe black dress with some sort of simple white neckpiece. Her coarse grey hair is pulled back into a proper bun. There is no jewelry or any sort of decoration on her dress or on her person. Not a ring or pin or even a watch.

Her expression is equally serious. Accentuated by wrinkles, framed by steel-rimmed spectacles and unrelieved by makeup, it is a face of a woman who brooks no nonsense—the face of a woman who has a job to do and who is intent on doing it.

Holding an open book, she stands in front of a room-length, dusty blackboard which is covered with rows of precisely regimented phrases. Not quite five feet tall and shorter than all of her students, this iron-willed and determined woman is reading aloud. She is reading poetry to her 14 seventh graders.

My mind’s eye widens and I see myself in the row by the window. Although many of my classmates appear indifferent, I sit enthralled. The poem she is reading is Kipling’s “Danny Deever.” In fact, whenever I think of Miss Cogan, she’s always reading “Danny Deever.”

I can no longer hear her voice but I can clearly hear the words—I memorized them, not because we had to but because I fell in love with the sounds of those words, the pictures they evoked and the way the rhymes bounced off each other

“For they’re hangin Danny Deever, you

can ‘ear the Dead March play.

The regiment’s in ‘ollow square—they’re

Hangin him to-day.”

As a 12 year old, growing up in the tiny upstate village of Amenia (pop. 987, alt . 573), I wasn’t quite sure where India was or why Danny had “shot a comrade sleepin’” but I was fascinated by the rhythm and the incongruity of:

What makes the rear rank breathe so ‘ard!”

Said Files-on-Parade –

It’s bitter cold, it’s bitter cold “ the Color-

Sargeant said.

What makes that front-rank man fall down?”

Says Files-on-Parade.

“A touch of sun, a touch of sun,” the Color- Sergeant said.

She pronounced “said” so that it rhymed with “parade.” It became “the color-Sergeant sayed”. I don’t think Kipling intended those two words to rhyme so precisely but, to this day, whenever I read or recite that poem, I still find myself pronouncing “said” the way Miss Cogan did.

And she was, of course, Miss Cogan. Although her spinsterhood was an established fact, none of us in seventh grade knew where she actually lived. George Clinton claimed that she had a room across the street from the school in Mrs. Foley’s attic. But George was only in sixth grade and had been known to exaggerate in other situations, so most of us dismissed this as unreliable gossip. We preferred the more tantalizing theory that she lived somewhere in the school building, the most likely location being in the basement next to the furnace room. We made up some grand stories about her life down in that dingy basement and, being typical seventh graders, added some sex interest by including tales of wild assignations in the coal bin with Red O’Connor, the ancient school janitor.

In all honesty, during the eleven years I lived in Amenia, I can’t recall ever seeing Jennie Cogan anywhere but in her seventh grade classroom. Where she lived was, in fact, unimportant; her real home was in that classroom.

Like all elementary teachers in Amenia, she taught two grades which were both contained in a single classroom. The seventh grade sat on the window side of the room, the eighth grade sat on the door side. Promotion from grade seven to grade eight involved simply moving over two or three rows.

Now here’s the odd part of my memory of those days. Even though I spent both my seventh and eighth grade years with Miss Cogan, I have only two clear-cut recollections of her, one good and one bad. The good one was the morning she read “Danny Deever”, the bad one was the afternoon she whacked me in the hand with a ruler.

I don’t recall why she did it but I do remember that she took me completely by surprise and that it hurt like hell. When I looked up through tears of pain and humiliation, I saw this tiny woman in her drab black dress, standing over me, her ruler at the ready, glaring mercilessly and daring me to react. Although I outweighed her by a good forty pounds, I just sat and hung my head, ashamed at being singled out for punishment and frightened by the ferocity of her attack.

She probably hit me because I wasn’t paying attention. I did that a lot, particularly when I got into eighth grade. I had learned pretty much all the eighth grade work when I was on the seventh grade side of the room.

And that’s about all I remember of my two years with Jennie Cogan—the poem and the ruler.

Jennie Cogan Day 1956

About twenty years ago, there was some sort of tribute to her in Amenia but I didn’t hear of it until it was over. She must have been close to ninety by then.

I wish I had found out in time. I would have liked to have attended and to have thanked her for reading “Danny Deever” aloud. And, if I could have mustered up the courage, I might have even told her that I held no hard feelings about that business with the ruler.

Gerry Holzman has written for Yankee Magazine (Miss Cogan would be proud) and has granted us special permission to publish his memories of Jennie.

Today he runs the Empire State Carousel Museum Empire State located in Cooperstown at the Farmers' Museum (search farmersmuseum.org)-- Amenia is represented by an 16 inch hand-carved name plaque showing the village name and the image of a horse and a cow.

Watch for Gerry's next story of Mr. Lonsdale, Amenia High School former principal, and Herb Ackelman

Mary Maroney Murphy- My Favorite Teacher was my Mom

2010-01-16T16:47:00.000-08:00

Smithfield Schoolhouse with Mary Maroney, her class and two
neighborhood dogs who thought they were students too.

My favorite teacher was my mother, Mary Maroney Murphy.

Mom taught in a one-room schoolhouse for nine years before she married. After she married, she never stopped teaching. Just about everything she did was geared to teaching.
Cutting up a chicken was a biology lesson. As she gutted the chicken she would show you each part of the chicken. This was the heart, the lungs, the intestines, to us it was a little disgusting but we learned the parts of a chicken.
We were taught all about trees, flowers, vegetables and everything else in nature.
The most important thing she taught me was the love of reading. She didn’t have too much time to read herself, having six children to raise and a farm to run with my father but she always made sure I had books to read. She always warned me not to loan out my books as I might not get them back. She was right. A couple of times I did loan books and didn’t get them back. My mother always looked forward to getting back to reading after she retired. Sadly, she was not able to do this as she developed macular degeneration and was unable to read. She always regretted this.

We got to know our area by going for rides on Sunday afternoons. We would just take off and pick a road and explore. Many times we would end up visiting people we knew. Mom was a great one for visiting relatives. I am so glad she and Dad knew their relatives as we were able to compile a history of the family which today so many relatives, especially cousins enjoy reading about. It has kept us all in touch.
Another person who taught us a lot was our Uncle Chet Maroney. When you went for a ride with him you did not chatter in the car – you were to look out the window and take in everything that you saw. He always said that we could talk at home, now was the time to observe.
Two other people who had a hand in shaping my future were Mr. and Mrs. Hoose, Charlotte’s parents (Charlotte Hoose Murphy). When they went to concerts at Tanglewood they would take me along with the other their other child, Jane. That is where I developed my love of classical music. Charlotte and I still go to concerts and opera, able to enjoy them very much.

Mary & Bill Murphy on their 50th Wedding Anniversary

Favorite teachers don’t always have to be the ones who taught you in school. Sometimes the best teachers were the ones closest and dearest to you.

Catherine Murphy is a charter member of the Indian Rock Schoolhouse Association and the Treasurer of the Amenia Historical Society. Until her retirement she worked at the Amenia Bank, and in fact was the bank's first female officer.

DRAW WHAT YOU SEE

2009-11-11T16:26:00.000-08:00

Indian Rock Schoolhouse art teacher, Tilly Strauss, is proud to present an occasional art class at the schoolhouse each year. She has worked with the community on projects creating fabric flags with symbols of the region, and using color paper to create patchwork billboards, and even to demonstrating the steps to making paper. You don't have to be an artist to have deeply satisfying experiences creating and participating in a project that gives voice to an idea.

Tilly loves working with kids and adults of all ages. She helps the student to learn techniques in creating illusions, using light and shade to draw everyday objects. She also enjoys working with emerging artists to find their path in the art world.

for more information, call 845-489-3264

Welcome Visitors from Kripplebush Schoolhouse

2009-11-02T16:41:00.000-08:00

Members of the Board at Kripplebush: (left to right): Gail Hilsenbeck-Many,
Indian Rock's friendly greeter Bill Burke (in dunce cap), Joan Pugliese, Donna Miller,
Toni Countryman, Larry Scalla

Indian Rock Schoolhouse always welcomes visitors and representatives of other schoolhouses. We have met a number of interesting folks from near and far...and Kripplebush is far from Amenia.

Kripplebush is a small hamlet in Ulster County, across the Hudson River. These folks traveled for more than an hour to come to see our little 1858 schoolhouse, and to hear about all of you...our nearby friends.

Kripplebush is near Stone Ridge and High Falls. The schoolhouse is dated 1857 and looks very similiar to Indian Rock. The big difference is that the school building is not alone in the schoolyard. There is another two story Lodge Hall there which will be made into a museum on the first floor. They have no pavilion however.

And what did we learn from each other? We discussed programs in our respective schoolhouses, funding, hours and insurance issues. We enjoyed a picnic in the schoolhouse since it was so cold and damp outside that day - Oct 21st.

Indian Rock promised to visit their schoolhouse next spring to see their large building being finished. If you are interested in a field trip to Ulster County in 2010, let us know and we will

make sure you have directions.

Memories from Noxon Schoolhouse in LaGrange, New York

2009-01-23T17:56:00.000-08:00

Memories from a Dutchess County Schoolhouse – School #3 in LaGrange, New York

By: Ginny Russell Stoetzner, Amenia

Ginny attended the District 3 schoolhouse known as the Noxon School on Diddell Road in the Town of LaGrange in 1944. She went to that school for first grade only when she was 5 years old. The school closed in 1945. She describes her schoolhouse experience as follows:

We walked to school a half a mile each way.
My teacher at the Noxon School was Miss VanWagner . She was nice but I never saw her again in later years.

I remember the older boys going outside in the morning to pump a pail of water and putting it on the coal stove to warm. There was a holder with paper cups near the door for students who needed a drink.

The only heat was the coal stove and it was kept filled by the “big boys”. I don’t remember being cold. When it rained, or was snowy, the wet coats hung on hooks near the front door, mittens dried by the stove If you were small you tried not to get too wet or you’d go home with a wet coat and snow pants. I think I had perpetually chapped hands from the wet mittens.
Before lunch we lined up for hand washing. One boy sprinkled powdered soap and another poured a little water. We washed and were rinsed with the water falling into another pail on the floor.
There were no reading groups that I recall. Even though I do not remember learning to read or write, I certainly remember Dick and Jane. We had music class with the teacher - she played the piano while the class sang. I don't remember the desks or a library shelf but I know there was no playground. We played across the road in a field. I also remember one of the older girls always fighting with the boys and one day she chased one into the boys’ outhouse. Big trouble that day!

After school most of the kids had farm chores to do. We had chickens and a big vegetable garden. I only had to gather eggs and pull weeds-but many had to bring the cows in from the field and milk them. My first love in those years were the cowboys on TV on Saturday A.M. westerns (1949).

Before Christmas, the students began to practice for the Christmas pageant. Only two first graders were chosen to be in it, and I was picked! Both of us got to be dolls under the Christmas tree and I got to wear lipstick! I wore my "Sunday" dress and shoes(usually I had to wear old fashioned high-tops), a bonnet and of course - the lipstick. My brother was the Jack-in-the-Box and drove my parents crazy practicing at home.
The only gift I remember for the teacher was at Christmas. My mother made corsages for the teacher with "real" evergreens, holly - berries and ribbons. She made them every year for all our teachers. We did have a school Christmas tree decorated with paper chains and handmade ornaments.

One of my biggest wishes for Christmas was a bicycle…I always wanted one, but I never got it. We lived on a narrow dirt road and had a long but rutted driveway. “ Too dangerous!” according to my parents. I learned to ride on my cousin’s bike one summer while visiting in Newport, RI.

When the Noxon Road Schoolhouse closed, Ginny Russell and her brother took the bus to Raymond Avenue School in Arlington and, according to Ginny, getting a ride was fun after walking to school. She was scared at first but had a wonderful second grade teacher. Ginny ran into her when the teacher was in her 80's and she remembered Ginny’s name.

Tell us your schoolhouse story!

Tell your one-room schoolhouse story on the Indian Rock blog….for the whole world to read on the internet. We are collecting as many stories of the old fashioned one room schools as we can ..anywhere, anytime.

Send your reminiscences about your school days as a word file, and a jpeg photo (or one of your childhood drawings) to IndianRockschool@aol.com. If you are uncomfortable writing the story…just give us a punch list of the facts you remember.

We are especially looking for stories about the kids in your school, some of your most memorable teachers and what the area was like where you lived….what was the coolest prank ever pulled by the class bad boy? Did your teacher keep pet spiders? (mine did)
What was your favorite day ever at school?

Please don’t forget to include your name (and maiden name if applicable).
This is just for fun…so there are no fees involved or paid.

Memories from a Country Schoolhouse

2008-11-16T15:26:00.000-08:00

Order Form
Memories from a Country Schoolhouse by John Quinn

Name: __________________________________________________

Mailing Address:__________________________________________

Town: State: Zip:__________________________________________

Telephone: ______________________________________________

Email address: ___________________________________________

Please send ____ copies at $15 each plus $5 shipping and handling

Total enclosed ___________

Please make your check payable to: WCSA
Please mail your payment to: WCSA, PO Box 172, Amenia, New York 12501

Who was this legendary one-room schoolhouse teacher?

2008-04-22T10:28:00.000-07:00

Legendary Ladies enjoy
Recollections of Amenia Union and One-room Schoolhouses

The Sharon Womens’ Club welcomed Indian Rock Schoolhouse to their April 18th meeting in Amenia Union. A group of Sharon women devoted to public service, these legendary ladies were a warm and interested audience for an Indian Rock trunk (in this case basket)show.
One of the previous and much-loved members of this organization of outstanding Sharon women was Kay (Humphreys) Kane, last school "ma'arm" of the Leedsville Schoolhouse

A short talk on the history of Amenia Union was presented before the illustrated lecture on the Amenia Union Schoolhouse (NYS side of the state line) and other nearby schoolhouses. The conversation quickly turned to legendary teachers of local schools on both sides of the State line.

One of the outstanding teachers in the Webutuck School District was Ella Staunton who began her career at the Amenia Union school. Ester Pollard and Bynon Kipp attended the Amenia Union School when Ella Staunton was a teacher there.

Ella Stauton’s name was very familiar to the assembled ladies of the Women’s Club. As we know Ella taught in several district schools, transferring to the brick high school, now known as the Amenia Elementary School when the Webutuck School District consolidated.

Another legendary teacher was mentioned: the unique Nettie Bump of South Amenia. Here is a topic where everyone has personal memories of the meanest, nicest, most special teacher at their school when they were children.

Thanks for inviting Indian Rock, Ladies!

It's Arbor Day again!

2008-03-11T14:04:00.000-07:00

See you at Indian Rock for Arbor Day Fun – April 29 and 39th, 2010
First and second graders from the Amenia Elementary School will help Pine Cone Pete, in the person of Andy Durbridge, Rudy Eschbach and Beth Murphy (the Pine Cone Princess) at Indian Rock School’s two-day observance of Arbor Day on Wednesday, April 30 and Thursday May 1st.
While some of the children are planting trees, others will gather in the restored schoolhouse for an introduction to education in a one –room school and to talk about Arbor Day around the world with Miss Murphy.

Since the revival of the Arbor Day tradition on the grounds of the historic Indian Rock Schoolhouse, two flowering crab trees and five evergreens have been planted by Amenia school children. This year there will be white pines, thanks to Twin Brooks Garden Center in Millbrook, who have generously donated a trees to our efforts both this year and last.

Arbor Day 2007 – Mike O’Neil plants “his tree” with Pine Cone Pete and students.

Pine Cone Pete tells us that the trees will provide shelter for the birds in the winter in our wildlife schoolyard. The new shrubs planted last year will provide berries for them to eat.

We have invited many old friends to join us…and everyone is welcome. Parents, younger siblings, and friends are invited to both days of the celebration. Come around 11 am. Bring a bag lunch and drink to the picnic pavilion for a celebration of Indian Rock’s 150th birthday. There will be complementary birthday treats provided by our friends Joe McEnroe, the Bank of Millbrook and Freshtown of Amenia.

Memories of Childhood

2007-12-20T11:18:00.000-08:00

Christmas in New York City in the 5o's

The sunlight in December is so very special. It seems to cast a promising glow on the tall tenement buildings as an apology for having to leave so early each day. It’s the sunlight that I so much recall as the special ‘back light’ for my father’s and my trip to find the ‘perfect’ Christmas tree.

We lived in the mid Bronx. Most of the people in our neighborhood celebrated Chanukah. Thus, Dad and I would have to trek across the Bronx, on foot, until we could find a little tree that we could afford and then carry back to our five story walk-up apartment on Walton Avenue. In the 1950’s $2.00 is what Dad felt we could pay for a tree. Once, though, when the short day grew dark, we spent $5.00. After all, Mom was waiting for us at home with eggnog and the boxes of decorations were waiting to be released from their wrappings after a long year of storage.

We always found the perfect tree. It seemed to wait for us. It had to persevere the hauling through the streets and hoisting up the many flights of stairs to our three-room apartment. It always amazed me that so many of the other children in the building would throw open their doors and watch us go by. They knew that the next day they would be invited to come up and see how beautifully we had transformed the tired tree in to a glowing Christmas tree. Dad would often leave some ornaments for my friends to place on the tree themselves. I can remember the glow in their eyes and see their mouths slightly open in awe. I enjoyed Chanukah with them and now they would enjoy Christmas with us.

Little Janet Neumeister with her favorite book

There were fifty apartments in our building; thus, one can imagine how both magical and overwhelming Christmas Eve was for me as a child. One of my treasures was a music box that played ‘Silent Night’. Alas, one year it broke. My father could see how upset I was and late one night, he took it apart. He handed it to me with a smile and a wink! What to my surprise, the little box piped out Silent Night backwards. It was so pretty; I can still hum it.

On Christmas Eve I’d go to bed and try with all my might to stay awake. I wanted to hear Santa coming from the roof to the fire escape; we had no chimney. He always came. How he could find us I never knew. BUT WHAT I DID KNOW was that when I heard his voice and his jingling bells, he sounded so smartly just like my father! I can still hear his voice and hear the bells jingling. Christmas thrives in one’s heart and memories.

Janet Neumeister Nickson is a vital member of many Sharon organizations. Even though she is busy with every activity in that town from the Audubon Center to the Historical Society, she finds time to read the Indian Rock Schoolhouse blog. She writes some of her own recollections of a childhood holiday growing up in New York City.

Of Christmas Past in the One-room Schoolhouse

2007-11-24T13:15:00.000-08:00

Stained glass provided the backdrop for the Leedsville school chorus. The students are (from left, back row): Peggy Okenden, James Farley, Mary Duffy. Middle row: Helen Farley, Alice Duffy, Joe Duffy, Margaret Duffy, Josephine Farley. Front row: Alice Farley, Frankie Farley, Suzanne Farley

The two high points of the year for youngsters going to the rural common schoolhouses in Eastern Dutchess County in the 19th and early 20th centuries were the last day of the school year and Christmas.

The celebration of Christmas took many forms, limited only by the imagination and ingenuity of the young teachers who had limited materials and resources. Art supplies were almost non-existent unless the pupils and teacher could find materials they could reuse from home or find in the nearby fields and forests. Some children found pine cones to paint for decorations, some strung popcorn at home to bring to school for the tree.

Kay (Humphrey) Kane, who taught at the Leedsville one-room School for almost 10 years until it closed in 1944, recalled how planning for the various holiday activities was worked into the December school days leading up to Christmas.

“We still had our daily routine in the ‘three R’s” but we were always able to fit in getting ready for the school’s holiday observance. I remember one year I had the pupils save their better school papers - compositions, spelling tests and colored maps – and put them together in a booklet with a Christmas cover as a present for their parents. I think both the kids and the mothers and fathers were pretty tickled.”

Margaret Duffy Erskine Quinn, one of the six Duffy children who went to the Leedsville School, remembers the Christmas Kay Humphrey had the pupils build a “cathedral window” as the backdrop for their pageant singing. Gerald Juckett, father of the family with whom Miss Humphrey boarded, put together a frame of wooden lath and then the students used colored cellophane to make what they thought was a beautiful stained glass window.

Mrs. Quinn recalls that it was the same year Miss Humphrey had the students as members of the Junior Red Cross, put together packages of wrapping paper, candy and cookies for the old folks at the Dutchess County Infirmary. They distributed their little gifts after the young chorus sang Christmas carols to an appreciative audience.

Starting early in December, Katherine Turnbull, the Amenia schools’ itinerant music teacher would start the pupils practicing the songs that would be part of each school’s Christmas observance.

The late Leland Hulst, who attended Willow Brook school on Sinpatch Road in the 1920’s, tells that their annual Christmas play brought out the whole neighborhood:
“Ella Staunton, our teacher, would have our Christmas celebration in the evening and that was the only time the kerosene lamp that hung from the center of the ceiling would be lighted. “

It may be nostalgia for the simple, homemade Christmas past that gives these recollections the warm and peaceful glow of the season. It’s there though, and it’s good.

From the column published December 21, 2000 in the Millerton News called “Memories from a Country Schoolhouse”. It was written and researched by John Quinn, trustee of the Indian Rock Schoolhouse Association. Edited by Janet Nickson.

Back to school quiz: where is this schoolhouse?

2007-08-23T06:49:00.001-07:00