A Second Visit to Neighborhood Schools

Last month I wrote about the neighborhood schools for those who grew up in Fulton in the mid-1900s. We Baby Boomers had six elementary schools in our city: Walradt, Oak, and Phillip Street were on the west side of Fulton, and Fairgrieve, State, and Erie were on the east side.

Paul McKinney attended Erie Street and he started his memories by naming the advantages of neighborhood schools. “First, you spent up to seven years with the same group of kids, most of whom lived and played right around you. Second, we all walked to school fall, winter, and spring. It was darn good exercise, and it gave us time to chat with friends before and after school.”

Paul not only remembered all his classroom teachers but also other adults who worked with the schoolchildren. “Miss Turner was our school dental hygienist and Mrs. Quick was the school librarian.” And Paul’s opinion about his teachers? “[They] obviously chose teaching as a lifelong mission…and a mission it was. Those teachers seldom shared stories of home and their families. All we knew was their names and that each day they greeted us in the morning and bid us goodbye in the afternoon. It just seemed like they lived right there in school morning, noon, and night.”

Also attending Erie Street was Diane Sokolowski, who remembered the outfit she wore on her first day of kindergarten. “It was a green and white plaid dress with small red stripes in it. My hair was in a ponytail with a red ribbon. I had a nametag around my neck [that] said Diane Baldwin.”

Diane’s excellent recall described how Erie Street School looked inside. “I [walked] in the front doors of the school and saw what looked like a large circular empty space with classroom doors around it. I think there were four classrooms on that level. On each side were big dark wooden steep stairs that took you to the second floor where more rooms were and another set of big wooden stairs that took you to the principal’s office. I recall it being very dark in the school because of all the dark wood, but classrooms had windows and were lit well.”

Diane also remembered another important part of school that took place outside the building. “Erie Street’s play yard had a great hill for running up and down and sledding during the winter. I would play at the playground and basketball court during the summer. The school had black metal fire escape stairs [and] I would hate when we would have a fire drill and had to go down them. The stairs had holes in them and I felt like I was going to fall through.”

Anthony Leotta started his education at Walradt Street School in 1939. A farm boy from the Chase Road in Granby, Anthony’s father transported him to school for three years and then on to Phillip Street School for another five years. (Phillips Street went to the eighth grade.)

In sixth grade Anthony remembers passing classes for different subjects. “Ms. Schneider was the Social Studies teacher [and] was extremely nice and very compassionate with students. Ms. Ellen Frawley was the arithmetic teacher and, in my opinion, probably the best teacher in the entire school. She taught ordinary arithmetic as well as mental arithmetic. Ordinary arithmetic is computed on paper and mental arithmetic is when computations are done in the mind without writing them down. Ms. Frawley stressed mental arithmetic and rapid addition, subtraction, multiplication, division, fractions and all other facets of arithmetic. She laid the foundation for my knowledge of math.”

Numbers were to become important to Leotta later in life and he is thankful that he had Ellen Frawley. “I attribute my Syracuse University Engineering Degree and successful career as a Civil Engineer for the City of Oswego to Ms. Frawley,” Leotta noted. “God bless her soul.”

Indeed, teachers often make a profound difference in a young person’s life. Many of us have memories of a special teacher who contributed to our education and well-being. Some of those teachers possessed a natural talent to lead students, but all of them required training to get started. Every teacher in modern times begins as a student teacher, working under a master teacher. Here’s how John Mercer, who taught 32 years in Fulton’s school district, explained his start in teaching.

“I was so fortunate to have landed at Phillip Street, with so many wonderful teachers who made such a big impact on my career. Tom Brown took me under his wing when I began. He looked out for me and was always there when I had questions or situations I needed to discuss. He had the ability to connect with his students and was always quick with a word of praise or humor that put smiles on the students’ faces.

“Anne Casey was a huge help to me when I first got into my classroom and really helped get me get organized. And I always appreciated the kindness and encouragement of Mary Konowich. She would often check in on me to see how I was doing. I also had the pleasure of working with Anne DeBlois, our resource teacher at Phillip Street. I learned a lot by watching her interact with kids who had a different approach to learning.”

John then mentioned his Master Teacher, Joe Leo, who oversaw his student teaching experience. “Mr. Leo was a gifted teacher and I learned so much from him. When I walked into his classroom everything ran so smoothly and he made it look so easy. It wasn't until I was able to observe him that I began to realize the subtle complexities that he masterfully wove into everything the students did.

“Perhaps the thing I am most grateful for was Joe's willingness to let me make mistakes. He could have told me the path to take, but instead his classroom became my laboratory. He let me explore, experiment and struggle sometimes. If a lesson didn't work, I'd have to try it another way, and not necessarily his way, but another way until it was successful.”

John had more to say about Joe Leo. He also introduced me to several of Joe’s former students. In next month’s column, we’re going to look at how unique Joe was as a teacher and how special he was to young people in Fulton.

Phillips Street School, one of six elementary schools in Fulton, where lots of neighborhood kids learned and played together.

Phillips Street School, one of six elementary schools in Fulton, where lots of neighborhood kids learned and played together.

Remembering Neighborhood Schools, part one

The idea to write about neighborhood schools came to me in the middle of summer, while most of us aren’t thinking about reading, writing and ‘rithmetic. During a talk with my sister Chris we got reminiscing about our elementary school teachers. She and I (as well as my other siblings) went to Phillips Street School on Fulton’s west side.

Chris started listing her teachers from kindergarten to sixth grade: Miss Stoddard, Miss Sullivan, Mrs. Robarge, Mrs. Mearder, Mrs. Thompson, Miss White and Mrs. Carpenter.

With the exception of fifth grade, when I had Mrs. Schneider, my sister and I had the exact same teachers during elementary school. This got me wondering if more families had the same experience back when neighborhood schools were the norm, so I put that question out to my friends and on social media. The response was overwhelming, so much so that I ended up with enough stories to fill three columns!

Why devote three columns to one topic? Well, as my good friend Paul McKinney, who had a long career teaching school and, like all of us, a long journey as a student, said about school: “It was more than learning subjects in our classroom. It was a social experience. We were learning about our neighborhoods, our friends, ourselves.”

Paul’s right. For a lot of us, when we think back on our schools years, much of what we remember takes place outside the classroom: on the walk to school (Remember when we all walked?), in the lunchroom, on the playground. That’s a lot of territory for churning up memories about neighborhood schools, so let’s jump right in. I’ll start with my family.

I asked my sister Chris if she had specific memories about those teachers we shared. Some of her answers were obvious—“We used to have graham crackers and milk in kindergarten and Mrs. Robarge was very kind to her students.”—but when she shared the fact that our sixth grade teacher, Mrs. Carpenter, read to us every day, a wonderful memory came back to me.

How I loved those after lunch stories. Mrs. Carpenter always chose a book that had main characters right around our age. I couldn’t wait to hear the adventures that they had, and a few of those books—My Side of the Mountain comes to mind—remain among my favorites. I think my love of reading started with Mrs. Carpenter.

It turns out not everyone in Fulton had stories of sharing the same teachers with their siblings. My cousin Ginger Leotta grew up on the east side of Fulton and she and her brother John attended State Street School for some of their elementary years, but they only shared a few teachers.

“I think John and I may have had the same first and second grade teachers: Mrs. O'Meara for first and Miss Quirk for second. But the rest of the years were different and I had the same teacher for third, fourth, fifth and sixth grade.”

I had to make sure I understood Ginger correctly: the same teacher four years in a row? “That’s right,” she assured me. “I had Mrs. Hartnett for four years and about five of my friends had her all four years, too.” I wondered what having a four-year run with the same teacher was like and when I asked, Ginger said it’s muddied some of her memories.

“Four years in the same room with the same teacher and mostly the same kids and all my memories run together. If someone asks me what I did in fourth grade or how was fifth grade I can't say because everything is a blur.”

But some of Ginger’s memories recently had a chance to be revived at a reunion of some small neighborhood schools in Fulton. “We took a picture of those of us who went to State Street,” Ginger explained. “One of the other people in the photo, Linda Vanucci, was also in Mrs. Hartnett’s class for four years.”

Other Fultonians shared their unique neighborhood school experiences. I heard from Fred Fanning. Fred and I graduated high school together in 1973, but I had no idea what his elementary school years were like. As he described it, Fred was “a migrant elementary child within the Fulton system.”

“I went to Erie Street for kindergarten through third grade,” Fred explained. “Mrs. Close for kindergarten, Mrs. Wilson [for first grade], Miss Mangot for second and Mrs. Tyler for third. I then moved on to State Street for fourth grade with Mrs. Hartnett. It was Fairgrieve for fifth grade with Mr. Coons and then over to the Junior High on Academy and Fourth Street for sixth grade.”

As Fred explained, “by the time seventh grade rolled around, I knew a lot of east side people who were going to a new school, the Junior High, and I already had a year's experience with that school and changing classes.”

Not far from the Junior High, but a world of difference in terms of elementary schools, was the St. Mary’s School for Catholic children. Memories of those students who were primarily instructed by nuns could fill a book, I’m sure, but Tom Frawley shared one story that will surely evoke memories in anyone of school age in 1963.

“My first and third grade teacher was Sister Marion Eugene. In third grade I was entrusted with the last seat, in the row next to the door to the classroom. Back in 1963, everyone had to knock before entering the classroom and my job was to open the door and let my teacher know who was there. The reason I remember this stems from that fateful day when I opened the door, late in the school day, to find our principal (and several of the other nuns) crying in the common area between the classrooms. News that President Kennedy had been assassinated had just reached the school.”

If you’re of a certain age, I’m betting you have memories of that November day. For me, a third grader, I remember our principal announcing the news over the PA. I remember our teacher crying and being dismissed early. I walked to my aunt’s house on the east side of Fulton. Crossing the bridge, looking down at the river flowing, it was the first time I felt my world shifting.

Next month: More on neighborhood schools and more on how we made memories, not on a laptop or cell, but in real time.

A reunion of students who attended State Street School in Fulton. Front row, third and fourth from the left, Ginger Leotta and Linda Vanucci, who had the same teacher four years in a row!

A reunion of students who attended State Street School in Fulton. Front row, third and fourth from the left, Ginger Leotta and Linda Vanucci, who had the same teacher four years in a row!

Williamstown: A Leader in Oswego County Farming

Since we’re in the middle of summer, I wanted to take a look at an Oswego County town that has made significant contributions to farming. Agriculture is big business in our county, with unique growing environments like the muck lands around Fulton and Oswego and the abundant apple orchards in the Mexico area. Up in the northeastern part of our county, in the Williamstown community, farmers have been innovators for centuries.

In the 1800s, Williamstown’s rural expanse provided acres of land for dairy farms and for growing feed for cattle. Producing milk became so successful in Williamstown that, in 1919, a Dairymen’s League was formed there by 60 farmers, becoming one of the first communities to provide individual dairies with a support system for their product year round. Along with fresh milk, cows provided raw material for cheese and by 1894, there were three cheese factories in the Williamstown area.

Williamstown was also a leader in the canning industry, with resident Peter Rever starting a factory in 1866. Workers canned peas, corn, beans and pumpkin, providing steady income for area residents. Factory owners even worked with farmers by supplying them with seeds needed to plant their crops, assuring the factory that it would have ample vegetables to preserve.

Another food staple once grown in abundance in Williamstown was potatoes. By the early 1900s, several farmers began growing the tuber exclusively. The versatile crop was so popular that, by the summer of 1938, Williamstown hosted the North Eastern Potatoe Growers Field Day. Six thousand people attended, sampling potatoes prepared in a variety of tasty recipes.

Potato farmers carried on for generations. In the 1950s, when David deGraff, of Adams Center, bought a potato farm from Walter Miller, he began by planting 100 acres of potatoes; by 1958 it was 300 acres, enough to supply the A & P Supermarkets in northeastern United States. But deGraff didn’t stop with potatoes. By 1968, he’d expanded to growing strawberries, blueberries and cranberries.

Not only were Williamstown farmers growing popular foods, they were also developing more efficient ways to do so. Back in the 1920s, when Walter Miller was growing potatoes, he created an irrigation system to water his fields. Miller manufactured his own equipment, experimenting with rejected auto steel from the Ford Motor Company. When David deGraff bought an irrigation system from Miller, in 1945, he was so impressed that he became a system dealer, eventually acquiring the company in 1949 and selling them throughout the Northeast.

Innovative farming stretches back even farther in Williamstown’s history, due to one of its prominent families, the Cases. This began with Jonathan Case (1788-1880), who spent over half of his life working on a project that would change how farmers protected their land: stone walls. Material for those walls was plentiful in Oswego County, thanks to the Ice Age, which moved through this part of the world over 10,000 years ago, leaving behind stones of all shapes and sizes.

Jonathan noticed how the large flat stones didn’t need mortar if they were properly stacked and he built remarkably sturdy walls to keep out animals and intruders from his prized apple orchard. Other landowners liked the idea and used the walls to set boundary lines and keep herds of cattle and other domestic animals on their property. Parts of what remains from Case’s wall can be seen today if you travel on a road off County Route 17 heading out of Williamstown toward Redfield.

The next generation of Cases included Jonathan’s nephew, Jerome Increase Case (1819-1891). Jerome was one of four brothers who grew up working their dad’s farm, spending hot summers growing and harvesting wheat and then collecting its nutritious kernels on a barn floor through cold winters. While using a handheld scythe to begin the labor intensive harvesting process, Jerome imagined that there had to be an easier way.

Around this time, the Case family heard of a new threshing machine, the Groundhog, which started the harvesting process mechanically. Using spiked-toothed cylinders powered by horses on a treadmill, the machine separated the valuable head of the grain from the straw and chaff, a vast improvement over the Case boys’ manual labor. Jerome’s father purchased a Groundhog.

Though Jerome saw benefits of the machine, he thought he could do better, spending evenings sketching out his ideas. Noting Jerome’s inquisitiveness, his father sent him to Rensselaer-Oswego Academy in Mexicoville (now Mexico). Committed to further developing the harvesting process, Jerome moved west, to the prairies, which he believed would be the new center for wheat production. In the spring of 1842, he shipped out from Oswego on steamship bound for Chicago; from there he traveled on horseback to Rochester, Wisconsin.

For the next year and a half, Jerome developed an improved version of the Groundhog, introducing the first Case Thresher in 1844. It was immediately successful separating grain from straw, prompting Jerome to use his ingenuity in marketing his new machine. Thus, Case became a pioneer in agricultural advertising by placing ads in farm papers, sending out mailings and staging demonstrations.

Jerome continued tinkering with farm machinery. In 1869, he began working with fitting a steam engine to farm equipment; fifteen years later Case had created one of farming’s first tractors. Though by today’s standards the machine was loud and cumbersome, it proved itself capable of pulling plows and providing power for other farm chores.

Others saw the potential of the tractor and began developing it. Unfortunately, Jerome Case never lived to see the first version of the tractor we know today, a gas-powered model. The first ones were shipped from Case’s tractor factory in 1892, just a few months after his death. Today, a farmer wouldn’t consider a career growing vegetables or raising cattle without a tractor. Next time you drive by a farm field and see a worker sitting atop one, remember it was the imagination and dreams of a Williamstown boy that made it all possible.

Jerome Increase Case, a Williamstown native, was instrumental in advancing the farming industry.

Jerome Increase Case, a Williamstown native, was instrumental in advancing the farming industry.