Our Winona Days , Fall of 1913-Spring of 1915 - Smith County, TX

Contributed by Dr. Alma Moore Freeland
Submitted by East Texas Genealogical Society
P. O. Box 6967, Tyler, TX 75711

Copyright.  All rights reserved.
http://usgwarchives.net/copyright.htm
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Memories of School Days in Tyler and Some Smith County Schools
1898-1951
By Alma Moore Freeland (1904-1991)

A copy of this book is in the Tyler Public Library.  Permission
has been given by Jerry Moore, nephew, to publish articles from
this book in the Smith County TXGenWeb Archives.

OUR WINONA DAYS
FALL OF 1913 - SPRING OF 1915

The beautiful sound of the word Winona brings to mind many memories of 
the two years our family lived in that little Smith County town when 
John R. Moore was school superintendent. Not all of those long-ago 
events were happy ones, but among those I like to recapture are the 
lovely mornings after the night storms. We had no tornadoes as we did 
in Tatum and later in Tyler, but there were nights filled with the 
sounds of violent winds picking shingles off the roof, snapping tree 
limbs, and shattering window panes and roofs with golfball-sized 
hailstones.

Our frightening Tatum experience had conditioned us for life. The 
first hint of a storm brought us all out of our beds searching for 
"head-to-toe" clothes. If we were to be blown away, we wanted to be 
respectably dressed. (Later we learned to go to bed ready for any 
contingency! After a few hours sleep we arose to a brilliant world; 
it was as if nothing had happened unless one looked at the debris, 
the gulleys, the sagging fences. I smelled the heavenly perfume 
from the flowers--wisteria, lilacs, jonquils, violets, roses and 
bluebells--with raindrops clinging to their petals and leaves, 
waiting for warm sunshine to dry their tiny faces. Then as if this
were not enough to fill one's soul, there would come the songs of 
birds, the flutter of butterfly wings grateful for their survival 
through the turbulent night; the sounds of boisterous frogs jumping 
from newly-filled pools, happy for their new playgrounds; the hum 
of bees already satisfied by breakfast of nectar-filled honeysuckles. 
All of this an accurate interpretation of "God's in His Heaven, 
all's right with the world."

Winona, less than twenty miles from Tyler, the county seat of 
Smith County, was a rather sophisticated community. It shared some 
of the prestige of Starrville only three miles away, since many 
of the local residents were descendants of the early pioneers. 
Too, the proximity to Tyler and the accessibility by railroad to 
that city and to Longview made it possible for Winona residents 
to satisfy their desire for cultural and educational advancement. 
It certainly increased their wishes to improve the educational 
advantages in their own school. When J. R. Moore was offered the 
post, the trustees made it clear they wanted a man who was 
interested in and capable of developing a first class county school. 
In fact, his efforts and achievements didn't go unnoticed and at 
the close of his second year, Professor Moore was offered a 
position as principal of the Douglas School in Tyler, a position 
he held for some fifteen years prior to his principalship of the 
0. M. Roberts Junior High School from,1930-1951.

One of his first steps was to increase the quality and number of 
subjects offered at the high school, in order to meet the state's 
requirement for a higher status level. It appears he had the support 
of Professor A. W. Orr, county school superintendent. During that 
period Professor Orr was a frequent overnight guest in our home 
when he made his periodic evaluations of the Winona project. His 
progress reports often appeared in the Troup Banner, The Winona 
News and Tyler newspapers. The young Winona school superintendent 
was genuinely interested and proficient in physics and mathematics,
so these two areas received a big boost with the installation of 
essential equipment. The addition of domestic science courses 
brought smiles to parents and daughters. I recall the hum of sewing 
machines and the tantalizing fragrance of popovers and other 
"goodies" emanating from an attractive room presided over by an 
equally attractive teacher.

Music was not neglected in the new program. A new piano was 
purchased and used for several purposes; first and probably most 
important it enhanced our Chapel programs and brought pleasure to 
most of the school personnel. Secondly, it was needed for public 
programs, recitals, commencement exercises, meetings of Mothers 
Club (later called P.T.A.) and other community affairs. I was 
permitted to practice there on Saturday mornings for my next week's 
lesson. However, after weeks of frustration from my attempts to 
practice in an unheated building with half-frozen fingers--though 
fully wrapped in wool coat, sweater, heavy stockings and cap--I 
realized I had no talent nor interest in playing the piano. The 
teacher agreed; my parents had no disappointment, and soon 
recognized it was their daughter, Mae, who had unusual talent and 
deserved piano and voice instruction. She lived up to their highest 
expectations. I had to smile recently at finding a newspaper account 
of a Winona graduation program which read: Piano Trio: Le Secret - 
Daisy Shelton, Persis Bynum, Alma Moore. I must add that as a 
dedicated consumer of good music, it is an indispensable part of my 
life--I leave the performing to the gifted ones.

The Winona students of that time were as eager as those of any period 
to "get out of school" and preferablY legitimately. The Demonstration 
Train provided the perfect opportunity. Lined up by twos and led by 
the teachers, we walked the few blocks to the depot where the cars 
had been placed on a siding track. The demonstrations consisted Of 
subjects, exhibits, and materials of interest to farmers, gardeners, 
county demonstration agents and those with allied interests. The 
newspapers carried "compositions" written by students, who named the 
items that greatly impressed them. Twin hogs, subjects of an 
experimental study, seemed to attract most viewers. Mention was made
of winter vetch, silos, cream separators, patent milkers, canned and 
preserved fruits and vegetables. The Winona Concert Band which lent 
a festive air to the occasion, received attention and approval.

Twice during Professor Moore's tenure the faculty, students and 
the community were pleased to receive the BLUE RIBBON-FIRST PLACE 
AWARD for their school exhibit at the East Texas Fair held annually 
in Tyler. The excellent publicity helped to put the Winona Public 
School and its faculty "on the map." Approval was expressed for the 
up-todate curriculum and extra-curriculum activities. This was 
particularly pleasing news for in the initial planning stages and 
execution, there had been considerable grumbling from the more 
conservative element, who charged that teaching of the "basics" was 
being neglected for the new-fangled areas such as domestic science 
and industrial arts, including mechanical drawing. Our family spent 
many happy hours in the booth and most unashamedly listened to the 
compliments from hundreds of visitors who viewed the handiwork of 
Winona students and their teachers. We have treasured through the 
years our two pictures and the memories of those events. Sometimes I 
wonder how much I was influenced by them, for some twenty years later 
when I was principal of Starrville School, we won the Blue Ribbon for 
our exhibit at the East Texas Fair.

Newspaper accounts have helped to clarify my rather blurred 
recollections of the superintendent's efforts to develop student 
interest in declamation, debating, and spelling bees. His North 
Texas State Teachers College experiences were apparently still of 
great interest to him, as he challenged Starrville and other nearby 
schools to participate in such activities. In my examination of the 
publicity notes, I did not find any reference to challenges in 
physical activities, such as baseball or basketball and volleyball. 
But times were changing and my Starrville basketball teams--boys 
and girls--practiced all week, anticipating a spirited game with 
Gladewater, Friendship or some other nearby school! Winona was out 
of our league.

By far the most pleasant and memorable of our Winona experiences 
was family-related. It was my father's invention and patent of a 
program clock machine. Later named the Eureka Program Clock, it was 
designed to ring school bells automatically. Mamma said he was lazy 
and dreamed up ways to avoid too much personal activity! Be that as 
it may, the Eureka became his life-long hobby along with a number 
of other "ideas" he developed. The Eureka was willed to his younger 
son Bruce, who inherited the same talents in physics and mathematics.

I shall never forget the night the Eureka was "born." Papa had 
worked with his idea for months, maybe years; but one night when 
he was "sitting up" with three of us quite ill with scarlet fever, 
he made the first contact. Using steam produced with a syrup bucket 
of water over coals in the fireplace, he found the energy needed to 
turn the wheels that carried the perforated tape over the copper 
spool--contact resulted in the ringing of bells. The sirenlike 
sounds brought us, as well as our mother in an adjoining room, out 
of bedl Life was never the same again for our family. We just knew 
we were going to be rich, but there was never enough money to mass 
produce them. Custom-made clocks were expensive, and seventy-five 
years later the Eureka is little more than a pleasant memory--but 
what a memory! I seldom allow myself to relive the afternoon the 
patent came from Washington. We were all so happy and excited. Mamma 
for the first time seemed to show some confidence in the project. She 
dressed us in our Sunday best and led us up the hill to visit a 
friend and share the good news. She looked so young and pretty. How 
I wish the Eureka had made life easier for her! Papa seemed to find 
ample compensation in the fact he had invented a fine product; he 
spent hundreds of happy hours working on them.

For my sister and me, and indirectly our parents, two unhappy 
personal experiences occurred while we were going to school in 
Winona. One spring Mamma ordered new embroidered white dresses 
for -us from the National Cloak and Suit Company. In those days 
many "middle-class" people did some of their shopping with mail 
order houses.  For days Mae and I had poured over the catalog trying 
to decide which dresses we wanted. We were most concerned over the 
sashes; Mae wanted blue--I chose pink. We could visualize broad, 
heavy satin ribbon tied in luscious bows. While we were waiting 
for arrival of the package, we spent time talking about them; I 
think they must have been our first "dressy" clothes--else why did 
I feel it necessary to brag about them as I did one day when an 
older girl began her usual "picking." Mamma had often cautioned us 
not to tell too much about our private life. But the fifteen year 
old daughter of one of the wealthy families caught me off guard while 
we were waiting at the "johnnie." (We had no indoor facilities in 
those days.) I threw caution to the wind and didn't see the exchange 
of glances among the listeners. Mamma was not pleased when she heard 
that I had provided the subject matter for the evening meal in many 
"uppercrust" homes. I remembered all this one day when I heard the
husband of my interrogator had been sent to prison for embezzlement 
of funds where he worked. I still adore the dresses when I look at 
them in the family photograph made soon- after they arrived. Who is
going to notice now that the sashes were sleazy and not over an 
inch and a half wide?

The second unpleasant school experience had far reaching implications. 
It grew out of my lack of mathematics ability, which my parents 
recognized early along with my desire to excel scholastically. At 
Mamma's insistence, my father agreed to coach me each evening so I
became more competent and confident. One morning when it came my 
turn to explain the problem I had copied on the blackboard, I was 
shocked to hear the teacher declare in a louder than usual voice 
that it was incorrect. Her pleasure in exposing the superintendent's 
daughter seemed to be shared by my classmates. My response was 
instantaneous and defensive, saying "I know it's correct--my father 
helped me!" Her reaction was as spontaneous as mine; she grabbed me, 
literally, by my coat collar (I was always cold in the early 
schoolhouses), and marched me upstairs to the superintendent's office. 
Needless to say, I never forgot that day; neither did my father, 
who promised that night to continue helping me, on the condition we 
kept the matter between us two. The outcome of the encounter was so 
unfortunate; mathematics became an anathema--my dislike turned into 
real fear; my mind became absolutely blank at times when I had to 
solve a problem. Always my most difficult subject, I avoided it like 
the plague and took only courses required for graduation. The only 
"C" I ever made was in freshman algebra; however, some blame for 
that was due to my two weeks' absence near the beginning of the 
term in 1918 when I had flu. The irony of it all was that some 
twenty-five years later in another school system, (I shall never 
forget the day) I walked in where she was teaching a fourth grade 
arithemtic class. It was a tribute to my parents that I exercised 
no kind of revenge!

My sister's experience a few days later was equally frustrating 
and no less humiliating. Mae was born with an obsession for beauty--
for painting and drawing. One Christmas Santa brought her a box of 
water-colors; she had mixed emotions and could not decide whether 
to use or just look at them. When a sudden desire to use them came 
at school there was no water handy--besides she ought to be 
studying. The budding artist then decided saliva would substitute 
for water, and that it was possible to draw and paint sitting on 
the floor under her desk out of range of the teacher's view--she 
thought! Mae was subject to chronic ear infection which often 
impaired her hearing; but on that day I'm sure she got the message. 
I was indignant when I saw her being pushed into a corner facing 
the wall. Papa was shocked, too, when he found his tiny frightened 
daughter there long after school was over that day!

Mae often mentioned that day, pointing out that it was ironic in a 
way, for as an adult she had pursued as a career and taught art in 
several school systems. She was often the recipient of awards for 
her water-color paintings. The walls of my home as well as hers and 
those of friends and relatives are enhanced by her creativity and 
skill in beautifully mounted pictures. I must ask her what she 
painted under her desk that day so long ago!

We had a lovely home in Winona. It was, as usual, next door to the 
schoolhouse, a rather new brick building, the first of its kind I 
had ever attended. It was in our Winona home I made my first 
biscuits and attempted to cook a meal alone. We had spent the 
Christmas holidays with our Hill grandparents in Omen and Moore 
grandparents in Troup. When the time came to leave, Grandpa Hill 
was ill, and Mamma decided to stay on for a few days with us 
children. I begged to return to Winona with Papa, but there was a 
problem. It had rained for days and the road to Troup was impassable 
for buggy or wagon, so I had to ride on a horse behind Papa amid 
the splashing rain and mud back to Troup to catch the train to Tyler 
enroute to Winona. If I live to be a hundred I shall never forget my 
sensation when Papa lifted me off that horse. I felt two feet tall;
but that was nothing to what I felt from riding astride that clumsy 
horse. Somehow we got to the train at Troup. It is hard to believe 
it took the better part of two days to go from Troup to Winona. The 
train schedules were such that we had to stay overnight in Tyler. 
We got a room in a hotel on North Spring Street not far from the 
depot. It was years before I knew in what kind of place we spent 
that night. Papa, as usual, was pressed for funds, and besides, my 
dear Papa was a bit naive, so I doubt if he knew the nature of our 
surroundings. Too, it's possible the term "North Spring Street" did 
not have or deserve the connotation it had later on.

Up to that time I had not learned to braid long hair, so that task 
I'm sure Papa had not anticipated. But that was only the beginning 
of new "situations" for Papa. When we arrived in Winona it was late 
and very cold. There was no food on hand, no wood for the cookstove--
just two hungry, weary homecomers. But I was not my Mother's daughter 
for nothing! I found her little brown coat and bonnet, and thus 
attired hurried up the hill with a nickel to get buttermilk from our 
neighbor, Mrs. Carl Shank. Wonder what she thought when she faced a 
little eleven year old girl holding a tin syrup bucket and mumbling 
something about milk! Papa had the fire going in the stove and the big 
black skillet ready.  But I'm sure he was more baffled than I for he 
knew absolutely nothing about cooking. He must have watched me with 
mixed emotion--hunger and wonder--as I sifted the flour in the big 
wooden bowl and added the soda, baking powder, and milk. Although I 
had watched my mother do this many times, I simply did not know what 
to do with that sticky dough on my fingers. I don't think I burned 
the bread; but in retrospect think it's a pity I didn't--I recall 
vividly Papa's efforts to bite into them. Had we been attacked that 
night we would have been protected; a single well-aimed biscuit would 
have put any intruder out of business. Somehow we survived the meal
--biscuits, fried sweet potatoes, and dry salt bacon which I had 
neglected to pre-soak and which made great demands on the good well 
water that night. I'm sure the whole business was rough for Papa, 
but he must have appreciated his young daughter's efforts to keep 
"the home fires burning." He bought a loaf of "light bread" the 
next day--a term explicitly appropriate in view of the heavy 
biscuits I had made. I wish I could state that in time, as an 
excellent cook, I made mouth-watering flaky biscuits, the envy of 
all who bit into them. Not so! But when I make my good old sourdough 
bread, my chest expands with pride. I was a "late-bloomer" even 
with the sourdoughs. A few meals after my marriage, my husband made 
a decision: we would have a full-time housekeeper, and so we did. 
My pride was saved when he said "A career woman doesn't need to be 
hampered by household duties." I justified my ineptitude then as 
now by saying that I didn't get the needed training from Mamma as 
Mae did. I was relegated to the yard and house cleaning duties and 
forbidden to participate in food preparation, due to my extreme 
case of exema on two right hand fingers. Later, I paid five dollars 
out of my first month's teaching salary to Dr. Coats for X-ray 
treatments. It was a miracle; no more exema--no more excuses for 
poor cooking.

In the boxes of materials and in my memories I am surprised to find 
so little about our church activities. I recall that Mamma made the 
unleavened bread for the Lord's Supper Communion services in Tatum 
or Winona, and that Brother McQuiston, the bimonthly minister, was 
our house guest. He later married Papa's former Starrville student, 
Florence Gary. She in turn was the aunt of the little Gary girls 
Elizabeth, Maxine, and Rebecca, who were pupils in my Starrville 
teaching days. Since Papa had been ordained a deacon in Tatum and 
was so active there and in the First Baptist Church in Tyler, I 
feel sure we were regular church goers in Winona.

I am so glad I reviewed my Winona notes, materials, and Memories. 
It has given me the opportunity to re-evaluate some of the negative 
feelings I have held for the past seventy-five years. Based upon 
the actions of a few, I decided all the people were unfriendly 
toward our family and felt a deep sense of rejection. It seemed to 
me my father's profession was not held in the high esteem it 
deserved; I missed the friendly acceptance we enjoyed in Whitehouse 
and Tatum. In my efforts to be fair I decided it may have been our 
family's fault. So I rationalized. We had moved suddenly from a 
small sawmill town among the tall pines near the Sabine River to a 
rather sophisticated community close to Tyler, the cultural center 
of East Texas! Perhaps we were naive and overrated the importance 
of the role a professional family might expect in a community. Now 
I can see how really fortunate we were to have had so many fine 
teachers, neighbors, friends, and classmates. Such a warm feeling 
comes over me when I recall the lovely teachers-Misses Mazie Baldwin, 
Mamie Collins, and Ida Arnold. One of our dearest classmates, Helen 
Sanford, Later married Pat Kidd and they were patrons of mine when 
I was principal of Bonner School in Tyler. Lucille Clinkscales 
joined my father as one of the Roberts School faculty members.
Nellie Clyde Kay married and she and her husband also lived in Tyler. 
I believe Eula Belle Shuttlesworth's family moved to Tyler; and we 
were again associated with Mary Helen Gary's family. Persis Byrum 
and Ada Fortner were classmates I want to remember forever. Other 
students who represented fine Winona families were: Herbert Rice; 
Marshall McGill; Sallie and Inez Nolen; Johnny Paul Fielder; Ruth, 
Monroe, and Lucille Shank; Ernestine DeLay; Gussie Mae Kirby; the 
Lolley girls; and Jewel Atkinson. I recall that Mr. Sid Johnson and 
Mr. T. W. Shank served as trustees at one time and that Mr. Richard 
was editor of The News. I shall always remember the visits to Mr. 
Joe Matthews' variety store to buy gifts for the birthday honorees. 
Mamma grew a bit tired of the constant invitations, but it was a 
treat to view the beautiful plates, cups and saucers, figurines, 
handkerchiefs, vases and other items of interest to ten-year old 
girls. When Mamma cautioned us not to handle the merchandise, Mr. 
Matthews would smile and assure her it didn't matter. What a dear 
man!

Many of the people mentioned in my story are gone now; and their 
descendants may not know or care about the Winona of yesterday. 
However, I wish I could tell them how proud they should be of their 
Winona ancestors whom I knew so, well--and so long ago!.

We moved to Tyler in August, 1915. 1 attended Bonner School for 
three years before entering Tyler High School in September, 1918.