As another school year begins, it seems appropriate to put a portion of the total school experience in historical perspective. Whether it is the hesitation of a child as he enters a classroom for the first time or the fear of being disciplined by the principal for some infraction of the rules, many students have shared these feelings for over a century. 

In my research on early schools, I was surprised to find that some parents enrolled their children more for convenience than for the good of their child. It was 1901 when Clarence Conilogue of Niwot began attending the one-room schoolhouse pictured here. He was just four years old. It was only when he began reciting multiplication tables in his sleep that his parents realized their haste and withdrew him until the following year. 

Clancy Waneka’s mother sent him off to the Willow Glen School south of Lafayette with their neighbor Julia Harmon, who was the teacher. Because he was not old enough to be officially enrolled, Clancy played in a corner while his friends concentrated on their class work. He always suspected that his mother simply wanted an empty house so that she could get her work done more efficiently. 

As for discipline, Mabel Andre admits to having been a troublemaker. The Andre girls attended the one-room Davidson School at 95th and Isabelle Road. Mabel still recalls the day she was to be kept after school for whispering in class. But that afternoon, a spark from the chimney ignited the roof and the little frame schoolhouse quickly burned to the ground. Although the teacher quickly forgot her punishment, Mabel remembers it to this day.

The Hubbard boy anticipated his punishment at the Pleasant View School with a unique plan. Knowing that Mrs. Zingg intended to paddle him the next morning, he came to class prepared with a pie pan tucked inside his trousers. The resounding clang when her hand hit the seat of his pants enraged her so much that she slapped him across the face as well.

Unruly students at the log schoolhouse in Jamestown sometimes went through several teachers a year before the school board finally hired one who was not easily terrorized. One teacher in particular demanded that all knives and firearms be left on his desk during class, which seemed to solve the problem.

Just getting to school sometimes presented problems as well. Weather was to blame much of the time, but animals could be a hindrance, too. Marie Stengel was sometimes late for class at the Valmont School if Mr. Hunter’s bull planted himself on the other side of the bridge she crossed each morning. The only solution was to wait for him to wander to another part of the pasture.

Rattlesnakes sometimes delayed Irene Smith on her way to the Potato Hill School west of Haystack Mountain. She and her friends carried hoes to dispatch those snakes that wouldn’t move out of the way. 

Whenever the wind howled down Left Hand Canyon, Frank Gould and his brother helped their young teacher, Mrs. Campbell, walk to the Altona School. Without their assistance, she couldn’t remain upright long enough to get there on her own. Many times, they were turned back and school was canceled for the day. Mabel Andre relied on Charles Kelsey to hold her hand as they walked along 95th Street toward Davidson School. If she didn’t, she risked being swept into the ditch beside the road.

The introduction of school buses and more uniform rules regarding enrollment and discipline solved some of the problems encountered by yesterday’s students. Yet in one form or another, today’s children still share similar challenges.