Memories of Wakefield Teachers
and our schools
My Memories Of Central School (1942-49)
Janet Rostollan Sporcich, 6/12/05, WHS Class of 1955
My earliest memory of Central School is the beautiful school yard.
The lawns were handsomely maintained, edged by short hedges which grew orange berries. Enormous lilac bushes grew on each side of both front entrances. Wonderful cascading rose plants complimented the scene with their beauty and scent. Throughout the yard, mature maple trees shaded us, and in the fall, we had fun walking through and jumping in piles of fallen leaves.
Mr. Victor Nurmi was more than just the school custodian. He was a creative botanist, enriching our lives by sharing his knowledge and love of plants and trees with the entire town.
The east (front) view, from Central School, looked down the sloping lawn and trees to the marvelous boulevard with the grassy dividers and extraordinary light globes. I remember, as a little girl, watching the Fourth of July parades, which would form at Neidhold’s store and march up the boulevard. We watched them from the Central School lawn and were thrilled to the marching bands, floats, colorful characters and patriotic themes.
The west view from Central School was ever-changing because of our beautiful Sunday Lake. How we enjoyed the sunsets, the summer blue water and the iron ore-colored water when storms churned up the lake. Sometimes, walking home from school after staying late for a Girl Scout meeting, we were treated to the winter sunset reflected by the snow covered school yard.
Neighborhood kids could be found, just about every day, during summer vacations and after school, in our Central School yard. We looked forward to playing softball on the little diamond. We girls roller skated the long side walks (remember those clamp-on skates?), we competed on the “tricking pole,” waxed the slide for a faster ride and made up games to play on the “block” (coal storage area). If we were lucky enough to have a piece of chalk, we’d play hop scotch. We had no adult “organized” play. We all knew the rules and seldom had any problems or fights. We just had fun.
Towards evening, we neighborhood kids would get together to play “Run
Sheep Run,” “Hide ‘N Go Seek,” and other games. The fun ended when darkness began to fall and we knew we had to go home.
I remember the names of all our Central School teachers. Learning was such an adventure – everything was new to us and our achievements were rewarding and fun: memorizing all the arithmetic tables via flash cards, reading at a tenth grade level while still in the fifth grade, and practicing the Palmer Method in penmanship class. Each classroom had its own library and “cloak” room. We had wonderful music appreciation/learning classes. Do you remember the beautiful classical records Mr. Krumwiedie would play for our enjoyment? One year, our teacher sent for music books so we could sing along while listening to a radio program. Do you remember learning to play the “Tonette” and later, Mr. Nelson giving us lessons on the clarinet, trumpet and other musical instruments. We put on beautiful Christmas programs (who dressed as The Three Wise Men and sang, “We Three Kings?” for several years).
We all remember the powerful wind that hit our hometown, uprooting the enormous maple trees and mangling the playground equipment in the Central School yard. I don’t know what other damage was done, around town, and have asked many friends which year it took place. We think it was 1947 or 1948. After, as we walked through the school yard, we were shocked and saddened to see many wonderful old trees lost to us forever.
Even though we kids grew up during the war years, and knew many families with sons and daughters in the service, we felt secure in our community. We prayed for peace and the safe return of our troops. We saved nickels and dimes to buy war stamps, collected scrap iron and helped with “Victory” gardens, for the war effort.
Yes, we lacked many choices kids have today, but we had a wonderful place to grow up, to go to school and to play. I’m grateful for the many happy memories of Central School – classmates who became friends, wonderful teachers, and the excellent background we acquired for future learning.
What fun we’d have sharing anecdotes and perspectives of our Central days.
We are thankful to those who helped keep our youthful years innocent and kind when the world was not.
CENTRAL SCHOOL TEACHERS
The author is the daughter of Raymond and Leona Hill, Wakefield, and the dear baby sister of the editor of WN&BPA. She and her son, Alexander “Sasha,” reside in Sturgeon Bay, Wis., where she works as a middle school choir teacher.
By LESLIE HILL
As I near completion of my 25th year of teaching, having worked with students from preschool to college level, I can trace my love of learning, teaching and education in general back to my days as an elementary school student at Central School.
Our kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Alberta Goodney, stands out clearly in my memory as a stout lady in a dark blue short-sleeved dress sitting at her piano, playing “Wait for the Wagon” and “Comin’ through the Rye” with many an arpeggio and flourish.
Family lore says that I came home after my first day of kindergarten, sat down at our family piano, and executed a spot-on impression of Alberta.
Singing, dancing, and playing in the Kindergarten Band were highlights of that year and probably just the drop of water that my genetic predisposition for music needed to begin to flower.
My only deep disappointment was that I did not follow in the footsteps of my older sister and brother: I was never called upon to conduct the Kindergarten Band.
Mrs. Ruth Litsheim was a tiny lady who really did wear white blouses with high collars and a hanky tucked up her sleeve.
We were taught many things by Mrs. Litzheim, not the least of which was learning to read. But my fondest memory is of the poetry she challenged us to memorize. I can still recite many stanzas of “The Owl and the Pussy Cat.”
(As I recall, we were invited to return to her classroom the following year. If we could still recite that poem we received the reward of a shiny nickel and praise from our dear teacher.) At a used book store decades later I came upon a collection which included a poem about Lincoln’s boyhood. It begins with the lines “There was a boy of older days, a quiet, awkward earnest lad.”
Long forgotten stanzas jumped into my mind. I was immediately transported to Mrs. Litsheim’s classroom and could almost hear her thin, reedy voice as she encouraged us to commit the lines to memory.
I immediately purchased the book.
Miss Pauline Anderson stands out in my mind for her personal style.
She was the only adult in my small sphere of existence who had pierced ears (!) and wore rather large drop earrings every day.
She also favored tailored skirts with kick pleats at the front or back and always wore high heels. I thought her very glamorous.
Miss Anderson was a stickler for penmanship and once told me that, being a lefty, I would “never have good penmanship.” That little bit of reverse psychology worked like magic, and I was soon being asked to demonstrate my excellent Zaner-Blosser script on the blackboard for my classmates to emulate. (This did, however, lead to a painful stint of being known as the “teacher’s pet!”)
Our third grade teacher, Mrs. Ella Noll, was a family friend whom I knew as a fellow member of First Lutheran Church.
Mrs. Noll was the first teacher (followed in high school years by Mrs. Anna Petroski and Mrs. Grace Graves) who challenged me to independent reading and study. When I finished my seatwork in her class, I was allowed to go to the library and check out books on topics of my choice to read in class.
I then reported to her the results of my “research.” This was an important step in my education, as it fostered my intellectual curiosity and independence as a learner.
As fourth graders we all loved Mrs. (Elsie) Kleimola. She treated us as young adults and instituted rights and privileges heretofore unknown to the rowdy 9- and 10-year-olds who made up the future Class of ’78.
We ran a class store, open every Friday morning for purchasing such essentials as pencils, erasers and tablet paper. We had class officers and held class meetings on a regular basis. (I have absolutely no memory of what topics were covered in these meetings, but they involved the class president — at one point in the year, yours truly — sitting at the teacher’s desk, gavel in hand, conducting business, with the class secretary furiously scribbling the minutes at a desk in the front row.) Mrs. Kleimola also opened our minds to the broader world. I remember vividly a unit on Japan which involved using special brushes to create Japanese characters on parchment paper.
Lew Bordeaux was invited to speak to us about his work with the Peace Corps in India. He appeared in the native garb of the region where he’d lived and then baked nan, an Indian flatbread, for us to sample.
My curiosity was piqued: I wanted to travel the world!
Mr. (Arthur) Cervo, our fifth grader teacher, taught us independence.
We were expected to get our work done, mind our P’s and Q’s and respect our elders.
He did not favor the warm approach of some of our earlier teachers, and set us on the track toward becoming more self-motivated learners.
In sixth grade Mr. (Delbert) Jacobson helped us all to manage the beginnings of adolescence. I remember him as a warm and caring man who had endless patience for the daily dramas and social problems of some quite precocious 11- and 12-year-olds.
And this despite the fact that he was suffering from severe rheumatoid arthritis and used two canes to walk up and down the flights of stairs leading to his classroom.
We learned about rocketry and completed an extensive project on nutrition, which included planning a week’s worth of healthy meals for our family. But most especially we learned how to be caring, responsible young people through his excellent example.
As we celebrate our 30th reunion at Eddy Park this summer, I’ll be asking my classmates (not the “McDonald kids,” of course — ours was the last class to complete elementary school at two different buildings) what they remember about those venerable ladies and gentlemen who guided our early education.
I hope their memories are as sweet.
———
The WNBPA continues an informal series of school-related memories in the run-up to the 2008 Wakefield All-School Reunion, with events running from June 28 through July 5. If you have a school-related story or photo to share, send it along.
PIKE LOCATION CHILDREN
The author (Leslie Hill) of this set of school memories stands among this group of Pike Location children, who pose behind the Kay Johnson residence. They include, from left: First row — Paul Aho, Bradley Bigford, Jane Radowski, Robin Bigford, Leslie Hill; second row — Rich Brown, Margaret Radowski and Terry Bigford. Photo courtesy of Jane (Aho) Morrow