Off the Editor’s Desk 8-16-2023

One day last week I was looking into several boxes of old pictures we have in our office, some of which are Polaroid pictures taken back in the 1950’s and 60s. I also found an interesting poem about the “One Room Country School.” It was on a print sheet dated 1943 and a hand written signature, by Pete Bodette. I hope that I am giving credit to the person that wrote the poem, if you know better, please let me know. If you attended a one room country school, you will enjoy this piece. 

The One Room Country School

I never went to Harvard

You may think I’m not cool

But I got educated

In a one room country school

One room, eight grades, one school Marm

It often seemed too full

But believe thee me we got the word

Taught by the Golden Rule

Twas in the fall of ’41

My sisters took my hand

We marched 1/2 mile down the road

I felt much like a man

The readin, writin, rithmetic

It all made sense to me

As did the science problems

The his’try and geography

The schoolhouse wasn’t modern

We carried wood and coal

The water came from out a pump

The outhouse had three holes

The lunch box sat out in the hall

In neatly lined up rows

At noon we’d run to grab our own

To find the butter froze

We didn’t mind, it tasted good

We’d trade with other kids

The jam and peanut butter rolls

And cookies made with figs

Then after lunch we’d go outside

A ball game would ensue

The school Marm was the umpire

She made up all the rules

Then after games, back into school

Our studies to pursue

We learned to answer-yes please

We lived that golden rule

T’was yes mam, thank you, pardon me

And open doors for girls

I hated when they’d snarl a smile

And toss their head of curls

When on the playground fights would start

And tattletales would run

The school Marm swung the final blow

Believe me that warn’ t fun

The flag went up, the flag came down

We folded it just right

We never let it touch the ground

Or left it out at night

The school Marm was a husky gal

Who ruled with iron hand

But I’m convinced, no better teacher

Walked across this land

She laughed, she cried, she taught us how

To be good girls and boys

She made us study real hard

She wouldn’t stand for noise

She’s long since parted from this earth

But thoughts of her still rule

I thank the Lord for Marms like her

And the one room country school

 Thanks for reading!     ~Carlton