Elementary School
Sixty two years ago, I started first grade and my teacher was Marie Quinlin, pictured above from her Ft. Loramie Wall of Fame photo. Believe it or not, she was also my Dad’s first grade teacher 35 years earlier! Miss Quinlin was an educator for so long (62 years) that for some families, three generations were taught by her. Other than parents, she was likely the most important influence on literally everyone around Ft. Loramie for almost two thirds of a century. She never married, dedicating her life to her students, church and community.
Incidentally, with me in that first grade class was Linda, the mother of Fish Report creator, Craig Fiessinger. We will be celebrating the 50th reunion of our high school graduation next month, but unfortunately I can’t attend due to an out-of-town family wedding that same weekend. So this blog is for all my classmates whom I’ll miss seeing.
Back in the early ’50’s, there was no kindergarten, so all 42 of us in the class were attending school for the first time, and Miss Quinlin taught amazingly well for that size of class, giving each us her personal attention. It was the first year for the new wing of the school (now demolished) that housed grades 1-6. I distinctly recall the elevated sandbox right in the first grade class room and the Lincoln log cabin and the clay figure of Lincoln chopping wood that I created in the sandbox on Lincoln’s birthday. Playing triangle as part of 1st grade band was also a highlight, even though I really wanted to bang the drums. A not-so-pleasant memory was of a fellow first grader who got sick after lunch one day and as he was rushing to the restroom holding his hand over his mouth, sprayed vomit all over a row of desks, including mine. Yuck!
Before starting first grade, my Mother had fortunately taught me the alphabet and some arithmetic, which gave me a jump start. She was a stickler for penmanship, especially for the cursive style, as was Miss Quinlin. But somewhere along the line, my cursive skills have been lost. For the most part, I print everything now and my signature is essentially illegible. Mom & Miss Quinlin would not be happy.
The year was 1954, the last year that the class size was that large, as the following year there were two first grade teachers. For second grade, our teacher, Miss Stang, was new to the school, having just graduated from college, so we went from the oldest, most experienced teacher to the other extreme, but never had a second thought about it. She was also my sister’s teacher the following year and exposed her to art, which my sister has been passionate about ever since. My third grade teacher was Mrs. Dillahay, the wife of the school superintendent. She was the toughest teacher I ever had, a real disciplinarian, who administered my first, no doubt well-deserved, spanking by someone other than my parents! After a dreadful year under Mrs. Dillahay’s iron fist, thankfully a kinder and gentler Miss Bolling taught 4th grade, a split class with the fifth graders. I appreciated those kind of classes in order to pick up what she was teaching to the upper class or read a book about some sports hero from the bookmobile. 5th & 6th grades were also split classes, taught by Mr. Moore, our first male teacher. Because he coached basketball, next to Miss Quinlin, he was my favorite elementary teacher.
As a group, these teachers were passionate educators dedicated to their students. They provided a solid instructional curriculum (and some unwanted discipline) that served me well later in junior high, high school and college. For that I’m very grateful.
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