Dick and Edna Miller- Both Parents were Teachers

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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!