D. D.:
CLASS OF 1975
Mary E. Zoeter SchoolClass of 1975
Seal beach, CA
McGaugh Elementary SchoolClass of 1980
Seal beach, CA
D.'s Story
They ask for a story? Ok - here's a story. Once upon a time in a small beach town, on the border of Los Angeles & Orange counties, a small school named Mary E. Zoeter school sits in the rolling fog of early morning.
Mr. Bankston, the Principal, is sitting in his office awaiting a chance to use the paddle that adorns his wall, but he seldom gets to exercise his arm. The kindergarten students are making indian & pilgrim costumes for the upcoming, handmade applesauce eating & cider drinking, "thanksgiving" between classes. The lucky children never hear the teachers use the term "native American," or "exploiter," to describe the participants. Indian drums made of Quaker Oats containers and pilgrims outfits made of construction paper will complete the scene on this drizzly morning.
The small fenced in playground for the kindergarteners adjoins a small sand box where 1st and 2nd graders play and sometimes call the kindergarteners names. The first & second graders hot lunch money (25 cents) has been carefully collected in tupperware plastic containers and sent to the office. Today the fog is so thick, and rolled in so quickly, that during recess the teachers had to guide students back to the main building with flashlights.
The unforgettable smell of old school fills the halls and classrooms. (Who knew this would later be identified as toxic mold with asbestos fiber du jour?)The rooms have quaint blue painted closets where the students place their jackets and lunch pails. Real hard wood counters accompany the window wall and the teachers are educating their students well, with many nearly new books, sitting behind a real desk. Mrs. Smith is peering over her glasses at her 1st grade students and Mrs. Breeding is jovially teaching her students to read on a small curved wood table.
No curse words are practically ever heard in this small k-2 school. Yes, while Mr. Bankston's paddle will soon need dusting, the busy learning center, with it's plethora of puzzles will be the site of clay animal construction. The film room is busy today. Some Walt Disney educational films will be shown on the khaki green 16mm projecter with the smoking lightbulb and the clicking noise competing with the speaker.
The open house will soon exhibit the student's accomplishments, great spelling, math and reading abilities. The parents will smile at the silkworms crawling and eagerly examine a silkworm cocoon that formed in the classroom in carefully prepared egg cartons.
None of the students, parents, teachers or even the principal realize that they are the special ones - the ones who get to experience something that will very soon be ext...Expand for more
inct - a quality, fear-free, CA education.
Yes, no students have walked down those long hallways in almost 30 years. And the school has now, apparently, been completely demolished.
Now, only a select few hold the remains and legacy of Zoeter School in their heads. Some of those who read this story may be so blessed. Those who don't will never quite understand just how good a tiny elementary school (and the memories and friendships formed at the earliest ages) can be.
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Once upon a time, a school named J.H. McGaugh served as an intermediate school for grades 3-8. The same rolling fogs often rolled in, crossing over the fields and obscuring the hallways, but were never quite as thick as those of Zoeter a few blocks away and even nearer the ocean. The school was equipped with an olympic quality swimming pool, concrete racquetball courts, a concrete gymnasium that could serve as a fallout shelter, a full size theatre with its own projection booth and painted scenery and a cozy library with reading areas and soundproofed audio rooms and an orange haired Mrs. Wixson to say "shhh," often.
The days were often drizzly and cool in the morning and would warm up as the day progressed. Steel poles adorning the sides of the buildings halls would find some students running through them. Recesses would find students playing racquetball, tag football or making human pyramids to be photographed. Miss Beller, the music teacher, was encouraging her students to sing as she would accompany them on the piano. Mr. Dressler & later Mr. Moffitt were busy instilling the fear of suspension on any unruly students who might back talk to a teacher.
The golden age was closing. Many of the teachers would soon be let go or receive pay cuts. The music room would soon be a storage room. Mr. Moffitt, and his many varied checkered pants, would have to return to teaching and a bunch of new, inexperienced teachers would soon fill the gaps of the tenured and more capable teachers let go. In a few short years, soon the entire school would only serve K-5 and all the expensive equipment, olympic pool, theatre and resources would be squandered on those not yet old enough to use them properly. Bureaucrats would have their way and the small beach town would never serve its students as well again.
Only several thousand, in a world of billions, can remember what is was like. I'm very pleased to have been one of them. I hope you are too. I didn't get a chance to properly thank those who helped further my education and provide a great school environment while I was there. Let this small tribute be my thanks.
- D.
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