This is the building that housed the Brooks School from the time it was built until about 1943.
Photo
Courtesy of John Woods
I have nothing but fond memories of Brooks School (except for peeing in my pants
once). The school was named after John Fletcher Brooks who donated the
land for the school, and for whom the community was named.
Brooks was a public school and when I began there in the fall of 1936, Grades 1
through 11 were taught there. At that time we had an eleven-grade system
in Texas. A year or two later, the 11th grade was transferred to the high
school in Carthage.
The Brooks Schoolhouse was a square building, facing east. There were two
large rooms in front divided by a wide hallway that separated them. The
walls of the two rooms that were next to the hallway were built so that they
would open. The lower half of the walls were hinged about two feet above
the floor and would fold down. The upper half was hinged about a foot and
a half below the ceiling and would fold up. By opening the walls the two rooms
and hallway could be converted into one very large room. This was done on
special occasions.
The wide hall ended at three smaller rooms across the back of the school.
A small hallway extended from the large hallway to the two rear corner rooms.
The center room opened directly off the large hallway. Right in
the center of the large hallway and near the back rooms, a rope hung, through a
hole in the ceiling, from a bell in the bell tower on the roof. The
Principal kept track of the time, (sometimes without benefit of a clock or
watch) and rang the bell to signal the start or end of classes.
We had no electricity so there were no lights in the building. To provide
light for the students and teachers, there were large windows along the outside
walls of the school. These windows, if I recall correctly, were set high
enough in the wall that a sitting student could not see anything outside which
was not elevated. I don’t recall ever being
distracted by what was going on outside. Only on the darkest days was
there inadequate light. There were some kerosene lamps that could be hung
from the ceiling and were used when some night function was held. I
don’t remember ever using them during the school day, although we might have.
We always had a short recess during the morning and another during the
afternoon. I would guess we had classes for an hour and a half, then a
thirty- minute recess, then another hour and a half followed by a one-hour lunch
break. This schedule was repeated in the afternoon. Our school days were
longer then than they are now.
We had all kinds of interesting games during our recesses and at noon. We
played softball a lot. We called the game “Work Up”. It got
its name from the way you progressed to batter. There were not two teams.
The progression to batter was from right field to center to left, to
third, to short, to second, to short (we had both a right and left side
short-stop), to first, to pitcher, to catcher and then to batter. Once
you were a batter, you remained a batter until you were retired. You then
went to right field, unless you flied out. When a fly ball was caught in
the air, the person who caught it exchanged places with the batter. The
beauty of this game was that it provided an opportunity for each player to play
all the positions. Individual ability was not so important. Team play was
not stressed. We frequently had kids of all ages as well as the boys and
girls playing together. The better player you were the more time you
usually got to spend as a batter. Also the better you were, the more likely you
would be able to catch a fly ball and go directly to bat.
The school Principal had upper classes in the room on the right as you entered
the school. The next classes were in the room on the left, the first and
second grades were in the room on the left rear and the third and fourth were in
the center room at the rear. The room on the right rear was used for
storage.
In 1936, I had one brother, Phillip Ray, and three sisters, Monnie Bess, Joy
Nell and Patsy Ruth, attending school there at the same time I was. My
brother Java Lloyd was the newly appointed Principal at Brooks School when I
began school. My other brother James Riley was in the CCC (Civilian
Conservation Corps) stationed at Pinetree near San Augustine, Texas and my other
sister Margaret Cathryn was in Tyler Commercial College taking a secretarial
course.
Miss Wilma Brooks was my first and second grade teacher. She taught both grades
together in the same room. Miss Wilma was a lovely young woman and I was
in love with her. I was a timid kid and she gave me a lot of attention.
But for her, I probably would not have liked school. We had a
diverse bunch of kids in the two grades.
One of the boys in the room was twice as large as most of us. I guess he
must have been twelve or so. Needless to say he was a little dull.
I don’t remember his name, but he dipped snuff or chewed tobacco. He
stayed in trouble with Miss Wilma for spitting tobacco juice on the floor.
There was a knothole in the floor near his desk (the rest of us sat at
tables in little chairs, but he had a desk because at his size he wouldn’t fit
at the table), and he spit at the hole. He seldom hit it.
Most all of us were extremely poor. Many wore ragged clothes and most
were under-nourished. I especially remember one boy in my class.
His name escapes me, but his family lived in an old house next to the cotton gin
on the County Line road. His dad was a sharecropper and/or a hand at the
gin. In all the time he was in school with me, I don't remember him
bringing anything in his lunch except fried perch. They caught them out
of the pond at the gin.
There was a big girl in my class by the name of Queenie Wallace. I think
her family lived on the Mitchell place. I guess her dad was a tenant
farmer. She stood about a head taller than most of the class, including
me. I don’t know if she was older, but I don’t think so. She
was just big.
Anyway, we had a lot of competition in spelling and arithmetic. Usually
the teacher would separate the boys and girls and have us line up. The
first two boys and first two girls in the lines would go to the blackboard.
The boys would compete against each other and the girls against each
other.
When the teacher called out the word to be spelled or the problem to be worked,
the kids would try to write it on the board, correctly. The last boy and
the last girl to do so had to take their seat and the next boy and girl from the
lines would go to the board. This would continue until all the kids had
competed. Many times Queenie and I would still be at the
blackboard at the end. This didn’t necessarily mean we were smarter, it
did mean that we worked problems pretty quickly and correctly and enjoyed the
game.
This competition from my early school days has helped me immensely over the
years in two ways. First it taught me to enjoy the competition of taking any
kind of exam, or working any kind of puzzle, and second, my success at it gave
me a measure of confidence in my ability and removed the fear of doing poorly
that besets many people.
Throughout school, while in the Navy and later in college, I found that I was
almost always the first one to finish an exam. What I learned at Brooks
School was reinforced in the Navy schools. They stressed speed.
They encouraged you to go through an exam as quickly as possible; never dwelling
on a problem if you didn’t readily know the answer. Skip those and
return to them after answering all the other questions. It is surprising
how many times I would return to a question that was Greek to me at first, but
then was as clear as glass on the second look.
I believe I got through the first grade only wetting my pants once.
I clearly remember that day. I needed to go really bad, but I was
too timid to speak up. Instead, I puddled under my chair. I was
terribly embarrassed.
We had outdoor toilets. The girl’s privy was at the far southwest
corner of the school ground. The boy’s privy was just off the school
ground, across the road on the north side. On leaving the school to go to
the toilet, the boys went one way and the girls another.
The drinking fountains were also outdoors. In front of the school, out
near the road, there was a well. The well was equipped with a
lever-operated hand-pump and it had a small house built over it. The discharge
of the pump was piped into a barrel mounted on a shelf about four feet off the
ground in the corner of the house. A horizontal galvanized pipe was
mounted about two feet off the ground on three sides of the well house and was
connected to a drain in the barrel.
There were tees about every two feet along the pipe. Each tee was equipped with
a riser and, what I learned years later, a gas petcock. These small
valves were aimed up and, with the head pressure from a full barrel would, when
opened, direct a quarter-inch stream of water a foot or so into the air.
The jet of water would decrease with the level in the barrel.
Beneath the pipe and faucets was a wooden trough that caught most of the excess
water from the faucets and directed it into a small ditch that drained to the
road ditch. This was an excellent water system for a bunch of kids.
The older boys would pump water as needed to keep a supply ready.
My troubles with the school authorities began in second grade. I’m
happy to say they ended in the third grade. First was the day I played
“hooky”. I had a co-conspirator in the person of Harold Gene
Williams. Harold Gene was my best friend. We were about the same age and
in the same grade. I spent the night at his house many times as he did at
mine. His mother and father, Lucille and John Hill Williams, were always
very nice to me. I loved going to their home.
We had heard about, and witnessed, the older kids playing hooky on April Fools
Day. This was kind of a tradition. I don’t know whose idea it
was, Harold Gene’s or mine (probably mine), but we decided we would play hooky
like the big kids. On the morning in question, we went out behind the Brooks
Chapel Missionary Baptist Church that was on the plot next to, and open to the
school ground. We climbed up into a tree and sat on a limb about twenty
feet off the ground. We heard the first bell that signaled the time to
report to class.
We were torn about whether we should go or stay in the tree. Then the
second bell rang. This was the tardy bell. We knew then that we were
committed. As the English say, “In for a penny, in for a pound”.
We were going all the way. No school for us on this day!
We were feeling pretty good about our daring escapade, until one of the older
boys found us. He said, “You boys are in big trouble. They sent
me to bring you back”. We wouldn’t go, so he left. A little
while later, the same boy, or another boy I don’t remember which, came back to
get us. He said, “If you don’t come back now, you can’t ever come back”.
Well that was too drastic for us. We knew then that we were
beaten.
We climbed down out of the tree and went back to the school. The boy took
us into the Principal’s (my brother Lloyd) room. He had all the school
assembled in his room. They were waiting for us. It couldn’t be much
worse going from death row to the electric chair than it was for us to walk from
the door at the back of that room up to the Principal’s desk.
He said, “You boys have done wrong and will have to be punished. I’ll
tell you what we will do. Both of you go to the blackboard and I will
give you a problem. The first one to work it correctly will be paddled
first”. By this time we were both scared to death and shedding some
tears. We went to the board and he gave us an arithmetic problem.
I finished it first, so they escorted Harold Gene out into the hall and closed
the door.
Lloyd grabbed me. He had his paddle in his hand. I was prepared
for the worst. I could hear Harold Gene out in the hall crying out loud.
I joined in. Lloyd drew back the paddle, brought it around and
just gave me a gentle shove with it. I wouldn’t have cried any louder
if he had beaten me with twenty licks. He said, “Bring in Harold
Gene”, and they brought him in and down the aisle. He was dragging his
feet.
From the way I was carrying on I know he thought I’d just had a thorough
beating and that he was about to have one too. But, he got the same
gentle tap that I got. It was quite a show for the other kids. I
don’t know about them, but I learned a valuable lesson; that is to try to
abide by the rules at all times.
I finished second grade and moved next door to Miss Pansy Pickron’s third and
fourth grade room. I hated to leave Miss Wilma, but I had learned a lot
and was ready for new challenges. Miss Pansy was great. I loved
her too. First, Harold Gene and I got into trouble again. Miss Pansy had
a large group of kids in her room and many of them needed special attention.
Consequently, she couldn’t always watch everything that was going on.
On this occasion, Harold Gene and I were playing and scuffling about.
I can’t remember what it was about, but I think Miss Pansy had called
us down once already. The next time she lost her patience and told us to
go stand in the hall until we could be good boys. We went out into the hall and
were standing there quietly and subdued when I realized that it was nearly time
for the Principal, (my brother Lloyd), to come out and ring the bell. Not
wanting to be discovered, we got behind some long coats that were hanging on
coat hooks on the wall. I thought we had escaped discovery when I heard Lloyd
come out and ring the bell and then go back to the door of his room. But
suddenly, the coat was pulled back and there he was. He had seen our legs
below the coats.
Lloyd called an assembly, then took Harold Gene, and me, up to the front of the
room and told everyone that we had been bad boys, again, and as punishment we
were to pump all of the drinking water for the next two weeks. He said he
didn’t want anyone to pump any water except us, and if the level got low in
the barrel, just to call us.
Well, for the next two weeks, we didn’t get to play much at recess. We
had to spend most of our time pumping water.
Another thing that I recall was the armadillo. Before that time the migration of
the armadillo had not yet reached that far north. But my cousin Junior
Pollard brought a dead one to school for everyone to see. We were amazed
at the sight of this curious looking animal. His Grandpa had killed the
armadillo near their house.
Let me tell you about Junior Pollard. First his name was not Junior, but
that is what we called him, even the teachers. I had no idea he had
another name, but he did - it was Floyd Luchian Pollard. His mother, Exie
Woods Pollard, and his father were separated or divorced. Junior, his
sister Delores, and his mother lived with her father, who was my Great-Uncle
Thomas Seth Woods. Uncle Tom was my Grandpa James Alonzo Woods' brother.
Junior was a year older than I, and was in my Sister Patsy’s class.
We were in the same room when I was in the first grade and they the
second, and again when I was in the third and they the fourth.
Another thing in my memory was Junior Pollard’s bicycle. His father gave him a
new bicycle for his birthday that year. He rode it to school every day.
What was so special about that you ask? Well, it was the very first
bicycle at the school. I expect half the kids in school learned to ride
that bicycle. We used to stand in line for a chance to ride it.
All kinds of favors were promised and given to Junior for being allowed a ride.
Junior Pollard was a good kid, and a very good student, As an adult, he was in
Naval Intelligence and later became a doctor. He died at thirty-nine of a
heart attack. But, he was not well liked by most of the boys. In
looking back, I think it was because he always had nicer clothes and nicer
things than the rest of us. Besides that he had delicate features, was a
handsome boy and seemed a little effeminate. He was also a crybaby.
Would shed tears over the least thing. I’m sorry to say that we
made his life miserable. That is, until he got the bicycle.
Directly behind the schoolhouse was a tract of timber and underbrush.
Probably about ten or twelve acres and pretty dense. Some of the older
boys cut pine saplings and built forts. They also built some lookout
towers up in the trees. We had lots of fun playing cowboys and outlaws in
the woods.
I had gotten a cheap set of handcuffs and a cap pistol for Christmas that year.
At noon, we were playing in the woods and I, being a Lawman (I owned the
handcuffs), arrested Junior Pollard and handcuffed his hands behind him around a
small sapling. Later when I heard the bell ring, I tore off for the
schoolhouse so as not to be tardy. I completely forgot about Junior.
After we assembled, the teacher noticed that Junior was missing. She
asked if anyone knew where he was, but no one spoke up. I knew exactly
where he was, but I was not about to confess. I quickly told the teacher
that we had been playing in the woods and that Junior probably didn’t hear the
bell and that I (being a good little boy) could go fetch him. She agreed,
luckily too, because I was the one with the key to the handcuffs in his pocket.
I took off into the woods and found Junior where I had left him. He was
bawling his head off. I threatened him with his life if he told the
teacher why he didn’t come when the bell rang. Then I unlocked the
cuffs and we went back to the room. He never did tell the teacher.
On another occasion I, and I suppose Harold Gene, went out into the woods during
afternoon recess. There was a large huckleberry tree out there that had a
horizontal section of trunk about six feet off the ground. We went to it,
climbed up, and were sitting in this tree (this was a favorite perch) when an
older boy came up and took a chew from his plug of tobacco. He offered us
one. We had never tried it and weren’t much inclined to, but he
encouraged us so we did. I didn’t like the taste, but decided to tough
it out ‘til the bell rang.
Everything would probably have been all right, but I lost my balance and almost
fell out of the tree. When this happened, I reflexively swallowed my chew
of tobacco. By the time the bell rang and we got back to school, I was
deathly ill, -- had probably turned green. I felt like I was going to
die, and looked like it too I imagine. I could tell the teacher was
worried. We didn’t tell her what caused my “illness”. I
don’t remember how it was accomplished, but I got sent home early from school.
Major changes took place at the school after my year in the third grade.
First, Lloyd left to teach school in Longview. Grades eight through ten
were transferred to Carthage and the school was reduced from four teachers to
two.
The remaining students in the school were divided between the two teachers in
the two front rooms. We didn’t use the three back rooms for classes
after that. But, a year or two later (maybe that same year)some of the
men in the community came in and converted the middle room in the rear into a
cafeteria.
They built a counter across the room with bench seats, put in a cook stove and
some tables to be used in preparing meals. The cafeteria staff was all-
volunteer, with the school mothers rotating duty with two of them coming each
day. The federal government commodities program provided all the food
supplies. The food was really good and there was a good supply of it.
I, for one, really enjoyed the cafeteria food.
In cold weather they always made a large pot of hot chocolate, probably using
canned milk. It was rich, and to top it off they put a large pat of
butter in each cup. From a health standpoint that was not good, though
truth be known many of us frequently got too little fat in our diet, but I sure
did like it.
It wasn’t too long until I was one of the “big boys” at school and used to
go early to school in cold weather to build fires in the stoves so the school
would be warm when the other kids got there. I think Jimmie Dunn handled this
chore before he went to Carthage to school, which was a year before I went
there.
There was an identical stove in each room. The stoves were about six feet
tall and three feet in diameter. They were insulated to prevent kids from
being burned by getting against the sides. There was a door on the side
for putting wood into the firebox. Our wood was cut and hauled by the men
in the community, usually from the woods behind the school. We always had
a large woodpile out on the southwest side of the school.
There were several bricks kept on top of each stove to stay hot in wintertime.
When a child had a toothache or earache, the teacher would wrap one of
the bricks in a piece of an old blanket and put it on the desktop. The
child could lay his/her head on the hot brick to help ease the pain. The hot
bricks worked very well. I was a frequent user, since I was beset with
earaches when I was a kid. There was no medicine. People saw
doctors only when there was a major illness. When you got a cold or the
flu, you just toughed it out until you got well. Illness was just a way
of life. If you got bad enough, you went to bed. When you were
able, you got back up again.
During the WWII years the school board voted to have school on Saturdays.
By doing this, they were able to delay the start of school until October and
close school around mid-April. The purpose of this was to make the kids
available to help put the crops in, in the spring, and to help harvest them in
the fall. The system worked very well.
Early in WW II, the War Board asked citizens to collect scrap iron, rags, and
bones for the war effort. That was just down our alley. On several
occasions I took our team and wagon to school and we older boys, and sometimes
girls and teachers too, went around the community collecting everything that we
could.
We had a mountain of scrap iron on the school ground. We sold it to a scrap
dealer and used the money to buy a radio for the school. There was not
much that went on in the area that some one of the boys didn’t know about.
We knew where all the skeletons of dead cows and horses were. All
of these bones were collected and also sold for the war effort.
Another time I took the wagon and team to school was during the beginning of
Christmas celebration. One of the teachers and a wagon-load of kids would
go and, would cut and haul back to the school our Christmas tree. Usually
one or more of the boys would have scouted around and found a very nice tree, so
we didn’t have to hunt one.
The ceilings in the school were fairly high, so we always got a rather large
tree. Once it was set up, all the kids participated in decorating the
tree. We used ropes of holly berries and ropes of popped popcorn, which
the girls had made, to decorate the tree. We took raw cotton, pulled
small pieces off and blew them into the tree and they would stick. Holly limbs
and mistletoe were also cut and used to decorate the schoolroom. Wreaths
were made and it was a grand and festive occasion. Almost no money was
spent on anything. We drew names and exchanged simple, frequently
homemade, gifts. I may be wrong, but I expect it meant more to us than the
celebrations the kids have today. We had so little that anything we got was very
special.
© Copyright 1995 John T. Woods. All rights reserved