Chapter 5: Our Country School

In 1886, when Carl was seven years old, he started school. Like most of the children of pioneers of Swedish descent, he neither spoke nor understood a word of English, but children soon learn. He carried his noon day lunch, a sandwich of bread and molasses, in a little pocket that Mother had sewed on the inside of a new little coat. That was the beginnings of school for the Peterson children. All of us completed our grade school training in that little white school house, District No. 9, in Clay township.

How long before this time this school house was built, I do not know, but there it remained on the corner about three-fourths of a mile west of our home as a beacon of learning until the Gowrie Consolidated School District was formed; the fine modern building erected; and school buses went out into the country, bringing the country children in to attend a good graded school, starting a new era of schooling.

Rural school, location unknown

These school houses were all built after the same pattern. The school room had three windows on each side; at the front a raised platform for the teacher’s desk; in front and on both sides, black-boards; on one side of the teacher’s desk a globe of the world and on the other, a Webster’s Unabridged Dictionary. To the side front stood the cast iron heating stove; on the rear wall was a tall cupboard for lunch pails; on the side walls various specimens of the pupils’ best work. When Carl Knock taught our school he secured pictures of all our Presidents, which we framed and placed in order of their presidency above the blackboard on the front wall. This might have been a fore-runner of visual education. In the hall entry to the building were hooks for all the wraps, but in winter time overshoes often were arranged in a circle around the heater to dry out and be fit to put on at closing time. I must not omit to mention the shelf at one end of this hall where stood the water pail, with a dipper which was used by one and all. Water was carried from the nearest farm home, and the pupils took turns doing the task.

There was also a coal house which in warm seasons the girls would fix up to play house in. Another “family” would live in the storm cave if there was no water in it. These storm caves were built after the terrible tornado struck at Pomeroy in the 1890s. Only once was it used when a storm threatened, and at this time there was about a foot of water in it. So the older boys and girls stood barefoot, knee-deep in water while the teacher and little folks crouched on the steps. It got dark as night, but turned out to be only a bad dust storm.

The pioneers showed by their action in erecting these schools that they knew the value of schooling for the children. They were placed at the section corners, two miles apart each way so that some children were fortunate in living quite near to school while others might have as far as two miles to walk. These walks were generally shortened by cutting across the fields.

Our walks to school stand out in my memory, especially when in the spring we could walk barefoot, and often linger along the way to pick wild flowers, buttercups, violets, and other flowers which grew in abundance by the road side. The teacher generally had several bunches of wild flowers on her desk. Often school would continue into June, and then there was an abundance of wild strawberries to pick and eat on our homeward way. Never did any fruit taste sweeter or more delicious.

There were rainy spells when water would overflow the grades, and we would have to carefully pick out way if we had our overshoes on. Naturally, if barefoot it was the more fun to wade through the water. What child does not revel in wading?

In winter the story was different. Bundled up so that only noses and eyes showed, we bravely trudged through deep snow and facing the biting cold wind. Seldom, if ever, did we get a ride to school. Of course there were days when we had to stay home from school when it was too stormy. That was especially true of the little folks. We all hated to miss a day of school.

There are many memories linked with that little school house, standing on an acre of ground fenced all around with a board fence. There was plenty of play ground space, and recess time was as much enjoyed in olden times as it is today. Favorite games that I remember were “Pump, pump, pull-away,” “Last couple out,” “The old witch,” “Bear” (something like the modern game of “Cops and robbers”). Very little ball was played because of the different ages and sizes of the pupils, but “Anteover” over the school-house roof furnished plenty of competition between the two opposing sides. Aross the road from the school yard was a large slough or pond, generally too overgrown with pond grass to afford good skating, but we enjoyed wading there in warm weather.

Unless the weather was rainy or stormy, the pupils were expected to all go out at recess to work off some accumulated restless energy. It was not often that the teacher had time to supervise or join in the games, for her time was filled with putting extra assignments on the black-board; extra samples to supplement those in the arithmetic books, for example. I can still see the board filled with these examples in the four fundamentals: their purpose being to develop accuracy and speed in figuring. Long division combined addition, subtraction, multiplication and division so was much stressed for the older pupils.

Speed an accuracy were given in a test at the Friday afternoon time of ciphering down, much enjoyed by all. For beginning with the first graders and their simple examples, the winner would choose another contestant until the exciting last minutes when two eighth graders would compete for the top honors. Proud and happy was the winner. Similarly, contests in spelling down took place in that happy time on Friday after the last recess. In this way accuracy and speed in two very important subjects was stimulated.

Reading and writing, spelling and arithmetic were stressed much in those days. Much so-called “busy work” helped pupils to keep occupied after they felt they had properly learned the assigned lessons. This was became when teaching grades one to eight, a teacher had little time for supervision. In one front side of the room was a long bench for recitation of lessons. A very limited time (often as little as five to seven minutes) could be spent for each class in order that all would have time for a recitation. It followed that pupils of country schools had to a great extent depend on their own initiative and efforts, and really had to learn how to study. The last term I went to school I was a lone eighth grader and brother Carl, who was my teacher, just assigned so many pages for each day and hardly ever had time for me to do any reciting. Still he kept an eye open to see if I applied myself as I should. One day a book agent came during school hours and as, proverbially, book agents are persistent; so was this one, and took some of the teacher’s valuable time. I was an interested listener-in and my eyes were not on my books! To my dismay that day I was called on for a recitation and other classes were skipped over! No doubt big brother saw a chance to teach me a lesson in another subject than in my text books.

The need of a school library for use as supplemental reading gave rise to the custom of having one evening’s entertainment a year for fund raising. Generally a pie or box social was the best means of raising money. The entertainment varied from community spelling bees, to programs put on by the school, consisting of songs, dialogues and recitations.

For these events folks really turned out. Many bought lanterns to hang up for lights. Sometimes a lamp or two added extra illumination. Grown folks squeezed themselves into even the primary children’s low seats. I can’t recall where the school children were, probably back stage in the hall. This was a high point in every winter term. The funds raised were wisely spent for children’s classics and supplementary readers, also some appealing story books of the age like the Five Little Peppers series, the Elsie Dinsmore books, the Fenimore Cooper books, etc. These books could be taken out and brought home, but the most use of them was made when pupils got permission tot ake a library book to their seat after lessons were learned.

There was also in later years a traveling township library, augmented each year from a township fund. For several years after I had finished eighth grade, Carl was secretary of the Township School Board and one of his duties was to select and send for these books from the book supply company. He, in turn delegated this delightful task to me. Esther was much concerned lest I should grow to a lazy good-for-nothing, for when that package of books came I felt I just must read every one before they were distributed to the various schools.

These school houses could comfortably accommodate about 25 pupils. Then, as now, enrollment varied by cycles, depending much on if large families would move onto the rented farms in the district. When I was six years old, Mother kept me home until the spring term, as Marie Callerstrom that winter had 35 pupils enrolled. So crowded was the room that the smaller children had to sit by threes in a double seat. In contrast about 15 years later one winter term there were only three pupils enrolled. Until just the last few years the school year was only seven months long with quite long vacations between terms.

On the back of this photo, my dad wrote: “This is, I believe, a copy (perhaps an enlargement), of a picture I had printed from an old picture that, as I recall, I acquired after my mother died. It may be of the students at the country school the Peterson siblings attended, but I can identify no one of them.”

Whatever the enrollment a teacher must be read to teach first to eighth grades if needed. No normal school training was necessary, no not even a high school diploma. Any one who could pass the rather difficult teacher’s examination in the subjects to be taught, plus Didactics, or the art of teaching, would be granted a third class certificate. After some months of teaching experience this could be raised to a second class certificate. The salary? As I recall, it was $35 a month for third class, and $37.50 for second class, but dollars had more value then than now.

By diligent review and study, Carl, Esther, and I secured teacher’s certificates and taught in the local schools for various lengths of time. I marvel at our self-assurance in taking on the teaching of neighborhood children who knew us so well. but there was a wonderful co-operative spirit in those home districts and we got quite good results in our teaching efforts.

The country school teacher’s work did not consist merely of teaching. No, she was the school janitor as well. This meant coming to school early on winter mornings so as to have the room warm for the first early arrivals. It also meant carrying in coal and carrying out all the ashes, sweeping and dusting. Before the school year began in the fall it was the duty of the school director to thoroughly clean the school house. From that day on it was up to the teacher to try to keep the dust down. In winter snow scattered on the cold floor in the morning kept down a lot of the accumulated dust. Often times pupils would volunteer to stay after school and clean black boards and erasers.

Sometimes on nearing the school house one could see smoke coming from the chimney. This meant that some wandering tramp had spent the night there. any a tramp slept on those long recitation benches! It wasn’t much use to even lock the door, for they could easily com in through the windows. It always was with a sense of fear that the door was unlocked for the tramp might still be there, but it never happened in our school. However, although for that one day, the fire need not be started up in a cold room, there was the task of carrying in more coal and also more ashes to empty, before beginning the day.

Some pupils would come so early they almost beat the teacher. No one wanted to come late for we all enjoyed the brief opening exercises, always a portion read from the bible and the singing of a gospel hymn, and perhaps a patriotic song. Roll call was often answered by quotations we had learned, and proud was the pupil who some time found a new one to copy into our copy books. Often times the teacher would also read a chapter from some interest-book, like a continued story. After that we were all ready for the day’s school work.

Not very many pupils took the eighth grade county examinations for they had no hopes of going farther with their education. Be it said, thought that the Petersons one and all did “graduate” from country school, and went on to some further schooling.

I want also to tell about our Bible schools — in summer — then called Swedish school, since Swedish reading, spelling, and composition was taught as well as the Bible History and Catechism.

Two years I well remember when we had two months of summer school, one month in District No. 8 and one in District No. 9. Since the summer days were longer it was as well to make good use of the day, so our school days began at 8:00 A.M. and kept on until 4:00 P.M. None of us considered it a hardship to attend. We thought it was a privilege for we enjoyed the association with our neighbor children of different districts; maybe also the change to get away from home duties. We had one teacher born in Sweden who was very strict, but when in a good mood would sit down and relate the most wonderful stories about the Norse men and Swedish history.

One summer when I was about 9 or 10 years old, I memorized the whole Luther’s explanation of his Small Catechism, about 100 pages including all the Bible verses. As I later have adopted the English as my “church language” I have often regretted that this memory work was not in that language, for what one learned in childhood remains in one’s memory.

When it was Mother’s turn to board the teacher it was Lawrence’s job to carry his noon lunch packed in a grape basket, to us it seemed to much, compared to what we carried in our own dinner pails, and to our childish minds came the questions, “Why the difference?”

Until the time of World War I, Swedish was the home language for many. Carl tells how he didn’t know any English when he started school, and he was not the only one. That first year I taught in the Telleen school, it was next to impossible to make the pupils speak anything but Swedish on the play ground unless the teacher was out there to enforce it. In fact, an English speaking family of several children learned enough of the Swedish language to carry on a conversation with the “Swedes.”

After World War I, there arose a decided opposition to any foreign language being used even in Sunday School and church. It hastened the turn-over from the Swedish, even at worship. This was a real loss to many of the dear old folks whose heart language it was, but viewed after 35 years, one can see it was the best of continued church work. As an example, when I taught Swedish school in the summer of 1915, there were several pupils who were struggling to memorize the catechism in Swedish, a language which they did not even understand. The change over was far from painless but because of the external pressures it was necessary. It has been our regret that we who knew two languages equally well, were not able to pass on this heritage to our children, but the trend of the times was against it.