Students learn about one-room country school

By KREMENA TODOROVA

Journal Staff Writer

NEW ULM -- A world that's almost disappeared briefly flickered into life Monday, as students in Kevin Kluis' fourth-grade class heard the story of a one-room school in southwestern Minnesota.

Ruth Kluis, the teacher's mom, and her cousin Dennis Miller shared their memories of the country school near Lake Wilson, about 100 miles southwest of New Ulm, that they attended in the 1940s and 1950s.

To the modern fourth-graders' delight, Kluis and Miller showed photos and authentic objects -- a tin lunch pail, a pencil box -- to illustrate a lively, humorous presentation.

Built 108 years ago, the one-room schoolhouse Kluis and Miller attended stood on about an acre of land, amidst crop fields and pastureland. The location was chosen with the students in mind -- at the center of the township, so no student had to walk more than 3 miles. The farm kids walked, biked, or rode a horse to school; in later years, parents carpooled to drive them.

Unlike most country schools, the empty building still stands at its original location -- a reminder of what Ruth Kluis called "a unique experience" that's being "lost to the countryside."

Kluis and Miller described the school's layout.

The students entered through a single small door, into a "cloakroom" where they hung their coats and left snowsuits and boots.

In spring and summer, the door stayed open; Kluis remembers breathing the fresh smell of earth and hearing the birds sing.

About 27-30 students, grades 1-8, shared the school's only classroom. The classroom walls were lined with blackboards, portraits and the letters of the alphabet.

Off to one side of the classroom was a small library and storage alcove, where the teacher kept a supplies cabinet, and the boys stored saws and materials for woodshop.

At the far end of the classroom was a large coal stove. The teacher stoked the fire with corn cobs. She also knew how to bank the stove at night, so the fire kept burning till morning. Later, the coal stove was replaced by an oil burning one.

The teacher kept a large shallow pan on top of the stove -- the kids put their lunch in the pan to warm their soup and potatoes.

The classroom also had a large water cooler. In the morning, the students filled it with fresh drinking water from the well outside; at night, they emptied it.

Some kids only attended school in fall or spring -- they were wanted to work on the farm.

One teacher taught all grades and subjects. While the teacher taught a lesson to one of the grades, the other grades, with two to five students each, worked independently. The students studied reading, writing, spelling, arithmetic, language, health, citizenship, Minnesota history and geography. The teacher would loudly bang on a desk with a ruler, should a student nod off.

At one time, the school had a large piano and a teacher who could play it; she taught the students songs and dances.

Because the classroom was drafty, the kids had dressed warmly.

The boys wore shirts and bib overalls, with deep pockets that would hold anything from pencils to frogs and bugs to scare the girls.

The girls had to wear dresses or skirts -- and long brown cotton stockings held in place by garter belts. On Christmas, Valentine's Day, birthdays and other holidays, the girls could wear white stockings; they looked forward to those occasions.

Every morning, the kids went through a health check. The teacher checked to see that their fingernails were clean, that they had a clean handkerchief, that their hair was combed, and that they had brushed their teeth. The students who passed the check received a large star with their name on it.

The students cleaned the school and grounds. They raked leaves in fall, burning them in big bonfires.

The kids played games -- some now extinct, some still favorites -- ante-I-over, pump pump pull away, tag, Red Rover, hopscotch ...

In wintertime, the kids skated in the icy ditch near the school. They would also tie their wooden sleds together with a rope, hook the rope to the back bumper of a car and ride back home. The parent whose turn it was to drive would drop each sled rider off.

In 1997, 100 years after the school opened, about 130 former students, spouses and kids came back to remember and reminisce.

Because the school property had passed to another of Kluis' and Miller's cousins, the former students were able to repair and remodel the now dilapidated building. They replaced the roof, painted the walls and placed replicas of the old desks back in their former places in the classroom.

Miller collected their memories and photos in a spiral-bound book -- preserving a piece of a long-ago childhood and a long-lost lifestyle.

Miller gave a copy of the book to Kevin Kluis, for use in his classroom.