When they came to school, the windows were bright, the daylight of the country side was breaking the trees of the end of night, the wind was just enough to throw a cooling on the long summers heat, and the children were running through the loose dirt that lead to the door.
The Tyler boys, just a year apart, one in 7th grade one in 8th, they looked like twins, in their patched up overalls, their blue long sleeve shirts that were clean and new, shining like diamonds against the dirt.
The Cotrell girl, Amy, who had made the school her second home, was wearing a flour dress, hemmed and pressed and ready for the day.
The third grade girls had begun to gather, Mrs. Francis, was teeming the kids from six to sixteen, rounding them up with the first graders, who ran about like chickens in the feed yard, and the boys who were debating school work or going to work, were standing about barefooted or wearing their older brothers boots for school.
One boy, Charlie McCloud, who had been clever in class and kept his temper, and worked the problems in the book without asking, grabbed the cissel rope tied to the bell, and began ringing it loudly, the sound pouring through the hills, and you could look in all directions and see the children running to the school.
It's all grown up now. The grass has rolled up about two feet. The sign under the green light has washed away with rain and colder weather, and the children growing older, Mrs. Francis taking the grave, and the grandchildren and now great grandchildren, making their way through the new buildings, the new places, with glass in all the windows, radiant heat poured through the building, and new books and ideas making their way to school.
Ralph E Peck
Photography by Sherry Hale
Between Grove and Jay Oklahoma
Between Grove and
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