----- Original Message ----- From: "Elizabeth W. Chandler" <CurtisandGailC@compuserve.com> To: "Jess Wilson" <jswlsn@prtcnet.org> Sent: Wednesday, July 30, 2003 1:31 PM Subject: Adam was black > Very good Pa! I am pasting on a story about mission schools for Thousand > and One. Gail > MISSION ACCOMPLISHED > > For nearly a hundred years, mission boarding schools provided > quality education to youth in Eastern Kentucky. As roads opened and public > education improved, these schools have passed into history or changed their > focus from meeting the needs of the isolated to the needs of the troubled. > Former students and community residents did not celebrate the deaths of > mission schools as a sign of progress-they mourned. Each school > represented not only buildings, values and history but also generations of > teachers and students. In 1978, my school, Annville Institute, closed > along with a chapter of family history. > In the spring of 1933, my father took a moonlight swim. The > Annville staff missed him in the dormitory and would not tell them where he > had been-they imagined the worst. The depression economy kept the > principal from expelling him at once for this meant the loss of the prepaid > tuition money for him and his brother. In the fall when he received a > letter-don't come back-he moved to another boarding school, Berea > Foundation. > My mother did not plan to evaluate the local public high school for > her children when she accepted a teaching position-but she did. Basketball > seemed more important than academics, some teachers lacked experience and > students screamed in the hallways. So in 1956, I packed my bags for > Annville Institute, prepared for an adventure and joined a family > tradition. > I felt the Dutch influence on the school at once. Pauline Phelps, > our dormitory director, did not speak with the accent of many of the > staff-while of Dutch descent, she came from Flint, Michigan-the city's name > matched her hair, eyes and attitude. She stood a solid 5 foot 5 but seemed > enormous-and she never smiled. "You get two sheets the first week, each > Wednesday turn in the bottom sheet and put the top one on the bottom. Make > your corners square-here's how," she instructed. > I was grateful my mother was Dutch-I already knew how to make > square corners. I already knew that mops were evil and the only proper way > to clean a floor was on your hands and knees but some of the other students > did not know-but they learned quickly-anything to avoid the caustic words > that would follow a lapse in cleanliness or procedure. > I soon discovered that dormitory cleanliness was not the only > place exacting procedures were required-all students received a half-day > work assignment. The staff changed these assignments quarterly and valued > participation almost as much as classroom work and religion. The staff > sometimes even released students early from school to spend the afternoon > doing emergency tasks such as cutting up half-frozen chickens. > The job I liked the least was the kitchen. The kitchen director, > Mrs. Vanderwoude, was short and plump with deep circles under her eyes and > spoke with a marked Dutch accent. While others remember her as jolly, I > considered her obsessive. On Saturday mornings, we scrubbed the white > plastic tablecloths with Ajax and large brushes and swabbed the dining room > floor on our hands and knees. Apparently, "Miss Van" considered my skill as > a cook questionable, as I rarely received this assignment. I once left > potatoes in the peeler for an extended period and they came out looking > like marbles. I spent most of my time on "pots and pans." > I liked the laundry better. The supervisor, Ada Baker, was one of > the few local people on staff. I enjoyed the smell of the sheets when we > ironed them on the mangle and the sound of the extractor as it removed > water from the linen-like a space ship on The Buck Rogers radio show. When > we delivered linen to the dormitories, we took turns pushing each other in > the laundry carts. > When I last reviewed my Annville transcript, I found my work > reports ranged from fair to poor but evidently the Annville work experience > proved therapeutic in my development. Years later, when I worked as a > prison administrator, I placed particular emphasis on teaching inmates work > ethics. I also had an answer when they complain about "pots and pans." > While strictly monitored, the social life at Annville was pleasant. > We ate all our meals together. We drank coffee served in large metal > pitchers to staff and students alike. Those of us who had not developed a > taste for coffee quickly learned. We gossiped, cheered our basketball > team, played in the band and worked on the school paper. > Friendships were especially close, for we spent as much time > together as siblings. Staff supervised the relationships between the sexes > with great care. Boys and girls met to walk together to school or social > events at a designated spot, "the pearly gates," and could hold hands-but > not kiss. Any infraction would result in the loss of the student's > "courting permit." Each Saturday afternoon, the social schedule permitted > an off campus walk-as far as the post office-about a mile. > And like most adolescents, we sometimes rebelled-easy to do with > the strict regulations. I threw spitballs, looked around during prayers, > smoked in the attic of Lansing Hall, lost my courting permit for a kiss, > received demerits for an untidy room and a suspension for an unauthorized > off campus venture. Other capers including sitting in Church and adding > "under the covers" after hymn titles and reviewing certain Biblical > passages with adult themes. At one point, Principal Simmelink suggested to > my parents that I should try to follow rules and work on my studies. But > compared to the temptations modern day adolescents face, Annville provided > a safe and secure environment to test limits. > I recall understanding that Annville was a mission school and we, > the students, were the purpose for the mission. That their culture was > somehow superior to ours did not need to be stated. The busloads of > citizens arriving from Michigan to look at their good works told us. > Religion was a very important part of Annville life. Staff or > students prayed before each meal. We attended chapel each morning, > dormitory devotions each night and Mrs. Phelps instructed us to have > private devotions in our rooms. We went to four Church programs each > Sunday. The repetition of Dutch Reform music cut a groove in my > brain-causing a hunger for the songs years later-and shower singing > forever. > Each June, Annville Alumni meet on the campus. Some of the > buildings are now occupied by a group home but others stand vacant. Like > our bodies, the buildings have aged and some have fallen into disrepair. > The meeting gives us an opportunity to evaluate what Annville means to each > of us. I found a safe and sheltered place to be a teenager in the late > 1950's and I learned to work. I sang a thousand hymns, developed > friendships and found role models. Annville was home for a while and a > memory forever. The closing of the school represented progress for the > region but something valuable was lost to history.