Remembering Warren County
|
But for me, the most momentous 1938 event was my entry into Warren County’s Plain View School, the predecessor of Eastside and others.
The nation, three years the other side of Pearl Harbor, was still struggling with the Great Depression. Times were hard and Tennessee was no exception.
In those days, Rock Island bustled. The NC&StL ran daily, north from McMinnville into White County and returned.
Sam Grissom’s store, a landmark on Highway 70, sold everything from mule bonnets (bridles) to galvanized wash tubs and, because money was scarce, he advanced credit on huge folding ledgers to all he knew.
We lived in a house just south of Sam’s store owned by Ma Moore. Her brother was the railroad station master, resplendent in daily starched, white shirt, black bow tie and polished brass cap placard which announced to the world who he was. The station house was aromatic, smelling of everything from freshly milled ax handles to coal oil.
My only sibling, an older sister who labeled me her “little brother,” and I would have a problem getting into Plain View, reputed to be a public school worth attending – a progressive school.
Fortunately, Plain View’s principal, Harry Copenhaver, and his wife, Bess, lived nearby and sister Betty and I fit nicely into the back seat of their new, black Ford V8. School buses were still 25 years down the road and every dollar allocated the county was spent on teacher salaries, buildings and textbooks.
As a third-grader, I was impressed with Plain View, primarily because of its rural setting and its discipline which kept in step with my father’s regimen. My teacher was Mrs. Herbert Jones who had a big heart, but ruled like an unsmiling drill sergeant. She taught three grades concurrently in her south room.
Winter heat was provided by a pot-bellied stove. One dark, rainy morning, a fellow classmate came in late (I hesitate to name him). He appeared exhausted from milking chores. Mrs. Jones was more than distressed. Not only did she scold him publicly for showing up with dirty hands, she made him heat water in a Maxwell House coffee can atop the stove and wash before the class.
When recess came, we opened our lunch pails or sack and, weather permitting, went outside. Who needed park-type swings, see-saws or gym bars? We had our imaginations!
The school building’s two wings were separated by an assembly area and a small stage. During the year, two evening assemblies were held where “box suppers” were auctioned off. The box suppers contained fried chicken, ham or pork chops, baking-powder biscuits or cornbread, boiled eggs, sweet or sour pickles, and cakes slices or pie wedges. There was plenty of butter and preserves on a side table.
My grandfather, a semi-retired Baptist preacher, served as auctioneer. It was a social opportunity and many single adults attended.
It was a good life. Contrast the homemaker role of that era with today’s fast-food society where less than 11 percent of the nation’s families cook one dish from a recipe weekly.
Still, the Depression weighed heavily upon us. Today, looking at the annual 8×10 black-and-white photos made at Plain View, one can see it in our eyes that we were questioning and unsure.
Leonard Delaney currently lives in Nashville. He attended Plain View School in the late 1930s.