Wednesday, January 1, 2020

School Days at Highland Park School


Highland Park School in Gloucester City, NJ was a four-classroom school when I attended from 1957 to 1961. In the basement was the lunchroom (it may have been a kindergarten room in the morning). My Brownie Scout troop met in the basement. I have fond memories of Mrs. Davidson and Mrs. Blanche Moen teaching us scout songs, making butter and crossing a bridge to a higher troop. I had attended Monmouth St. school for kindergarten before we moved to the Cypress Gardens section of the city.

Our class was quite large and was the only grade in our classroom. Some of the other grades were grouped two grades in one classroom.  My first-grade teacher was Mrs. Cole. She was the meanest person I ever met in my childhood. She would smack us, hit us, pull our hair and ears and verbally abuse us. Once when I had a wrong math problem she ripped my skirt off my body. That little navy-blue pleated skirt is seared into my memory. Why didn’t we tell our parents? She told us she would kill us if  we did. Kids were having night terrors, wetting the bed, and afraid to go to school. A classmate told me years later about meeting Mrs. Cole while grocery shopping with his mother and shaking in his shoes while she sweet talked his mother. I had a child nervous breakdown. After nightmares, crying and saying I was afraid to go to school my mother went to see the teacher. She said I was a terrible child and that my kindergarten teacher said that too. My mom went back to my old school and told Mrs. Barr, my kindergarten teacher what Mrs. Cole said. Mrs. Barr asked who my teacher was and when told it was Mrs. Cole she said my mom should go to Miss Mary Ethel Costello, the Asst. Superintendent of Schools. I was called to the principal’s room (she taught 2nd grade) while all the other children were outside on the playground. Present besides the principal were Miss Costello, Mrs. Cole and me. Not even my mother. I was asked all the things Mrs. Cole was doing to the children. I told them everything (can’t believe I was that brave, but I was truthful). Then they called my mom on the telephone and had me repeat everything I had told them.  What was the result of this inquisition? Mrs. Cole would remain our teacher and would be fired at the end of the school year. As for me, I would still be in her class. She ignored me the rest of the year. This situation would be all over the news if it happened today. When she left at the end of the year they found empty gin bottles hidden all over the classroom, cloak room and the basement. I sometimes marvel that after that experience I loved school and ironically became a math teacher.

Mrs. Farina, the principal,  was my second-grade teacher. I don’t remember much about that year. The most overwhelming memory is that I was behind thanks to Mrs. Cole. I think I sat behind Joanne (Dee) Davidson as we were two of the tallest kids in the class. I remember looking over Dee’s shoulder to see her paper. I knew Mrs. Farina knew I was looking at other people’s papers, but she never said anything. She let me catch up and later I could do my work on my own.

Third grade was Mrs. Barrish  (not sure of the spelling). I remember very little. She was young and in my mind pretty. I think her husband may have been in the military. She left after that year.

Fourth grade was Mrs. Angrabe. I started that school year late. I had an emergency appendectomy at the end of August. In those days you were in the hospital for a week or more. I had some complications and was in about 10 days. I began the school year two weeks or so late. Then I wasn’t allowed on the playground at recess as a precaution, so I spent it in the classroom with Mrs. Angrabe. This was the first time I remember having science. I loved it. I was fascinated with space and space travel. Mrs. Angrabe’s husband taught science at my next school, M. E. Costello. This was Mrs. Angrabe’s last year teaching. She was pregnant with her first child. She was a great teacher and I loved her and her class. The next year Highland Park students went to Costello school. My classroom teacher was Miss  Perry. There we would have Mr. Angrabe for science. But tragedy would strike. Mrs. Angrabe would die shortly after having her baby. It was traumatic for young children who had spent so much of the previous year with her. Ironically Miss Perry would later marry Mr. Angrabe.

Highland Park gave us a great start. Our independence started. Probably our first days away from mom or a babysitter. Most of us walked to school by ourselves. Classes were large but for the most part we were taught well.

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