A to Z April Challenge: J is for James Hurst Elementary School

Genealogists and family historians get a lot of satisfaction from chasing their ancestors’ stories. Finding a diary, a message on a postcard, or a photo with a name attached is like the sun coming out after a storm. One day we will be somebody’s ancestor. We need to leave our descendants a little bit of sunshine too. So here is my story told alphabetically, not chronologically: Growing Up in Cradock.

is for James Hurst Elementary School.

This is where I went to school in grades 1 through 4. It was right across the street from where we lived, so needless to say, I walked to school.

At the beginning of each school year Momma bought me new shoes and a new book bag. I remember 3 pairs of saddle oxfords: navy and white, brown and white, and finally black and white which to me were the REAL saddle shoes making me wonder why I kept getting the blue ones and the brown ones – what was wrong with Momma anyway?  In later years, I came to realize that being

from Pinterest

slightly different from the pack was her thing; she never wanted what everyone else had.

image from Etsy - no known restrictions

That would also explain why my lunchbox was different from everyone else’s too. No square lunchbox for me. It was a red plaid oval just like this one that sold recently on Etsy. Just looking at that picture conjures up the aroma of lunch as the lid finally popped open after my fingers walked around the edges prying it open. The shallow tray typically held a napkin and sometimes a cookie if an apple took up too much room down below. These were the days before juice boxes, so I could buy a milk ticket (they were red, I think) with 5 punches on it (or was it 10?). Those of us buying just milk could grab a carton and head to the front of the line. Kids who bought lunch could buy a lunch ticket (they were yellow, I think). I bought lunch sometimes. Cafeteria rolls were the best. Can I get an AMEN?

I have wonderful memories of creative and nurturing teachers like Miss Wiggins, Mrs. Newman, Mrs. Daughtry, and Mrs. James, and of learning to play the flutophone in fourth grade. On the downside, it was the age of the Cold War when we had bomb drills requiring us to go into the hall, get face-down on the floor with knees under us and our heads against the wall. I doubt we understood or knew to be more afraid than we were. It was just another drill, like a fire drill only inside. School as usual.

On Saturdays and in the summer, any thoughts about bombs and fires dissipated. James Hurst provided 15 acres of playground for my friends and me.

Jungle Gym
from wikimedia commons

Monkey Bars
from wikimedia commons

It had multiple sets of the requisite recess equipment like jungle gyms and monkey bars. One time I got myself stuck sitting on top of the monkey bars. Unsure where to place my hands and what to do with my legs then dangling below me, I began to panic as I realized I might actually get hurt if I did something wrong. I don’t remember with whom I was playing that day, but she ran home to get her dad to come get me down. Probably out of sheer embarrassment, I figured out how to get down by myself before her dad could get there.

James Hurst also had lots of paved surfaces perfect for roller skating. The front of the school boasted a large “porch” and “patio” plus wide sidewalks leading to the street. A flagpole in the middle practically demanded we skate around it several times before shooting back onto our straight path.

photo courtesy of "I Grew Up in Cradock" Facebook Group
There were steps on 3 sides around those columns.
The width of sidewalk in front of the steps extended from at least
the 2 windows on either side of the front doors.

But it was the wide open space and all the trees that captured our imagination. Along Ericcson Street was a row of trees and a ditch formed by exposed roots.

From Google Maps
along Ericcson St.

In the photo snips from Google Maps, it appears the ditch has been filled in, but its ghost is visible in the shallow stretch. In the 1960s, that ditch was considerable – in some places at least an 18 inch step-down into the “rooms” of our imagined houses.  Some of the roots formed our sofas, and flat edges of the ditch became the stove in our kitchens. My favorite tree had a group of roots that worked as steps going down into my living room. At other times we moved out of the ditch and swept pine straw to outline the walls of a much bigger house.

from Google Maps

Beyond this Homecoming Parade you can see the concession
stand with the scorekeeper's box above it,
the dugouts, and  the bleachers.

The back corner of the school ground held the baseball field, home of Cradock Little League. Since I lived right across the street, it was easy to watch a game right from my front porch if I wanted to. But the concession stand with its tempting treats made me a steady customer night after night. Lime or cherry snow cones. Big Towns. Mary Janes and Pixie Stix.

Living so close to the ball field had one drawback though: people constantly rang our doorbell and asked permission to use our bathroom. Apparently portable toilets were not common enough, available enough, or cheap enough for a group of volunteers to provide in those days.

In the mid-1970s the James Hurst I knew was torn down. A showcase of modern education when it was built in 1942, the school fell prey to rot and termites. A new showcase of modern education was built in its place, and safer playground equipment was installed. All that remains of the old building is the cupola and weathervane now positioned in front of the school, still the most recognizable symbol of James Hurst Elementary School.

BEFORE - the cupola is more visible in this photo
(AFTER below)

Cupola and weathervane in front of the new James Hurst Elementary School

Juggle your time and Jump, Jog, or Jaunt on over to the A to Z April Challenge for some Jovial Jottings of Journalists and Jokesters.

© 2016, Wendy Mathias. All rights reserved.