The book draft is complete!

Just a quick post to say the manuscript for The Brass Bell is complete and has been sent off for publication consideration. These things take time, patience, and a bit of a hard shell. What if they say no? Well, on to the next. I don't think I'll be wallpapering my house with rejection letters, but let's face it, these are tough times for any kind of business, including publishing. Nevertheless, I'm one of those who believes that books are as much a part of the human existance as eating and bathing. Life is not complete without books to hold in our hands, without stories to take us to another place and another life so that we might share and engage with humanity. There are so many of us here on the planet it's impossible for our brains to conceive the actual numbers. We are part of a teeming pot of people all like us in one way or another. Understanding how others overcome or transform keeps us sane, takes us out of our own predicament for a while, like heavy weights lifted from a sore back. Stories about the past take us to a place that has become somehow sacred through a feeling called nostalgia.

I remember so many happy times in front of the hearth in my Aunt Marion's living room. Perhaps some of you who knew her, who had the pleasure of visiting while a fire blazed in the stone fireplace will recognize the pen and ink drawing above.

Book almost Finished!

The first draft of The Brass Bell is almost complete! I could not have told the story without the help of those who were there and have been so generous to share their stories.

Every time I read the one about the boys stringing tin cans across the bottom of the stairs on a Saturday morning in hopes of hearing the janitor as he might unwittingly ascend the stairway from the basement, discover all of them in the gym playing basketball, I smile. These "boys" are now in their 80s, but to them, it was just yesterday. When they recount scurrying out the front door and across the lawn, they evoke a Saturday morning nearly 70 years ago, the sounds of their high-tops on the gym floor, the gasps of heavy breathing from running and from terror.

The biggest thrill for Cherry Roaders was the senior class trip. Each alumni I've talked with has recounted the events of that trip as though the train had just left the station, Syracuse fading as their train heads east and then south.

You can almost hear the cows mooing up at the Jeroms farm, the clanking of the milk bottles in Van Jerome's wire basket early in the morning. It's just a dream. Most of the farms are now buried beneath roads and shopping malls. The old tunnel that was part of a complicated system of cables, pulleys, and buckets, rigged to transport limestone from Split Rock to Solvay Process, was closed down a hundred years ago. Stories about running through the tunnel in the dark are embedded in the memories of those who were there. Until the neighbors plugged it up with cement, kids used the tunnel as a short-cut. They played in the abandoned quarry, took a picnic lunch, stayed all day until the street lights came on, their signal to go home.

The book is filled with people from the past. The wonder and the tragedies of their lives come alive on the pages.

There is much to be learned from the successes of Cherry Road School, from the first day Miss Parsons stood on the front step of the old chicken coop in 1926, and then on the front steps of the brand new red brick school in 1927, until the day she retired in 1952.

I'll keep you informed about the progress of the publication of The Brass Bell!








The Split Rock/Solvay Process cable system is pictured above....

Miss Parsons

Like Captured Fireflies

In her classroom our speculations ranged the world.

She aroused us to book waving discussions.

Every morning we came to her carrying new truths, new facts, new ideas

Cupped and sheltered in our hands like captured fireflies.

When she went away a sadness came over us,

She left her signature upon us

The literature of the teacher who writes on children's minds.

I've had many teachers who taught us soon forgotten things,

But only a few like her who created in me a new thing a new attitude, a new hunger.

I suppose that to a large extent I am the unsigned manuscript of that teacher.

What deathless power lies in the hands of such a person.

John Steinbeck

Parent Involvement

The Cherry Leaf

Whether it's an old-fashioned ditto-mastered newsletter mailed to parents or a classroom blog, reaching out to families is one critical element for school success.

The leadership of Cherry Road School have always understood this. One of the first things Marion Parsons did when the new school was finished in 1927 was to establish The Mother's Club.

In 1932, a school newspaper called The Cherry Leaf began publication. Its masthead declared that it was "Published by the Pupils of Cherry Road School--School District No.1, Town of Geddes." Using it as a tool to teach children about running a business and managing funds, ads were sold to support the cost of printing and postage. Student reporters shared news and events. They wrote about fundraising luncheons, the advent of a new scoutmaster; purchase of new sports equipment, glee club, and drama club news. The Cherry Leaf had a staff of 11 student editors by its second edition in December of 1932. Lloyd Mitchell, as student Editor-in-Chief, used the metaphor of the stages of an acorn growing into a mighty oak tree as a comparison to that of "...a boy or girl through their life in school....if they don't start out right they won't end up right."

I've discovered in my extensive research into the history of Cherry Road School, through my many conversations with alumni, that students who attended from 1926 through the 1950s credit much of their success to the start they received at Cherry Road School. It was the strong element of parental involvement that motivated them in years to come. It was the parents' partnership with teachers and administration that kept them on the straight and narrow when they were in school....no room to play one side against the other. The adults were united, but according to the stories that by now have been re-told hundreds of times, they were fair. If a kid suffered a consequence, they knew they had it coming.

Many have told me that because of the strong foundation of parent involvement, this school felt like a family. And the students didn't want to let the family down, so everyone tried their hardest to do their best. Some of the most interesting stories are the pranks that were played by the kids who knew if they were caught, what the outcome would be...one alumni put it this way: "...if I had been caught, there would have been nothing left of me put a dark puddle on the sidewalk." They accepted what was right and what was wrong and had a great time trying to see what they could get away with. Each accepted their punishment when it came. They knew their parents would never defend them against the teachers. Imagine. Teaching in a supportive and supported environment.

On the Home Front, WWII

"But there is one front and one battle where everyone in the United States--every man, woman, and child--is in action, that front is right here at home in our daily lives."
Franklin Delano Roosevelt, 1942

Like school children all over the country, the lives of the students of Cherry Road School were changed after the bombing of Pearl Harbor. On the home front activities included air raid drills and collecting seed pods, piling them up in the gymnasiam. The milkweed pods were used to make parachutes.

Older brothers had gone off to war. Patriotism was a way of life, and children of Cherry Road School were part of a community effort.

I'm looking for stories from anyone who was there during this time. What can you remember about those days that you would be willing to share for the purpose of the book, The Brass Bell?

Please comment on this post or contact me directly at:

schoolhouse2@comcast.net

Time in Perspective

One thing I've learned while researching the history of a small farm community turned suburb, a one-room schoolhouse turned successful district school, is that time passes in less than a blink. People and the times in which they live are larger than life in that moment and then gone from memory just as quickly.

The women in this picture, from left to right, Grace Parsons Cole, Marion Parsons, Martha Parsons, and Julia Jerome, were young girls playing in a cherry orchard and climbing in haylofts. Before they knew what hit them, they were in charge of the future. Now they are part of the past that few who are still living remember.

The Brass Bell will tell the story and provide a marker in time to remind those of us who would take for granted our time on earth that what we do here counts, and that we've only a few minutes to get it done.

Back in Oregon, work has resumed on the book. Thanks to those who contributed to my efforts on this last research trip to Syracuse. This past weekend John and I stumbled upon an old log cabin in the hills outside Portland. On the Oregon Trail, the home is preserved by the local historical society. As I stood by the old hearth, imagining a cold winter day in 1840-something, a deeper understanding of the importance of historical preservation crept into my psyche. I will try to work as hard to finish the book on time as was the volunteer who was digging weeds in the front yard of the old homestead. It wasn't that long ago that a family who crossed thousands of miles in a covered wagon piled log upon log to build the cabin in which the family lived for nearly a century. I will strive to be half as brave as they.

Another Visit to Syracuse

Researching The Brass Bell

Next week, on June 7, I take off from Portland, Oregon, and fly to Syracuse for my final round of research for the book: The Brass Bell. I'll be there from the 7th until the 22nd.

I'll be in the area talking with alumni, with members of the Solvay-Geddes Historical Society, poking through the files at the Onondaga County Historical Society and the Onondaga County Library.

If any CRS alumni, especially those who attended Cherry Road School any time from 1927-1953, are nearby and have a story or any memories to share, I'd love to hear from you while I'm in town.

Most of the research is complete and the book is well on its way to the finish line, at least the first finish line. Making a book is a long and tedious process as those of you who have done it know. Once the first draft is done, there are rewrites, and more rewrites, editors, peer reviews, more editors, production staff, artists, marketing staff, and endless outreach, once the book is actually printed, to let people know that the book is available. Those of us who do it believe that we were born to complete the task. Without that drive, the sane person would give up and get a "real job."

Writing The Brass Bell is a labor of love, love for Westvale, love for my Aunt Marion, and love for the education process.

Marion Parsons affected the lives of thousands of people who now live all over the country. Many still live in Westvale; some have returned to Westvale. They all share one thing in common: love and respect for the diminutive woman who had a giant impact on their lives. The Brass Bell is a tribute to her, the teachers at Cherry Road School who worked diligently beside Miss Parsons, and educators worldwide who struggle to find ways to engage students in a love of learning.

Memorial Day

Honoring Cherry Road School Veterans~

In honor of Memorial Day, and the young men who served over 60 years ago, some of them a mere 17 years-old, anxious to serve, willing to bend the truth to be there. The following men are graduates of Cherry Road School who served in World War II:

Lester Wilbur Marco Terziev
Robert E. Doehner Loyd Mitchell
Arthur Meyers Leland Mitchell
Harry Castleman Fred Baxter
Edward Browning Bradford Sherry
James Stewart John Sherry
John Terziev Irving Avery
William McArdell Sidney Spillett
Raymond McArdell Herbert Hardisty
Robert McArdell Robert Hardisty
Sidney Bannister David P. Cole
Peter W. Cole Van Jerome
Richard Henry William Male
Bradford Vineall Richard Pollard
Edwin Vineall James Male
Francis Powell Robert Klock
Raymond Hackbarth Fay Bailey
Kenneth Bailey John Farnham
Donald Calkins John Pyle
William Brady Alfred Colbourn
Raymond Smith Dan Salisbury
Stanley Smith Robert Coulter
James Robinson Edward Lundy
James Rowe Herbert Curtis
Jack Trowdridge William Patterson
Gordon Peterson Quentin Wells
Morgon Cooper Fermin McKaig
Richard Ryan Franklin Brady
Wendell Horrigan Donald Porter
Robert Horrigan Peter Zavalauskas
Robert Tetrault John Gould
James Sherlock Richard Owen
Ralph Bristol John Hennessdy
Matt Windhausen Harda Haight
Charles Windhausen Kenneth Meyers
Bernard Windhausen Frederick White
Melvin Merrill Eugene Allen
Ralph Amedro Nicholas Krascella
Donald Cole James Murphy
Willaim Harley James Payne
Vernon Roth Richard M. Cone
James Ryan C.E. Sillion
Harold Avery C.W. Hewlett
Carl Bausch Richard Schwartz
Nes Goodwin James P. Furlong
L.Adell Havens James Cosgrove
Frances Terziev Alden Sherry
Mary Gere William H. Stewart, Jr
Margie Bealer Schuler Edwin M. Baylard
Edward W. Sweeney
James C. Connelly
J.D. Hillyer

A plaque with these names once hung in the hallway of Cherry Road School. Since then it hung in the home of Van Jerome and he passed it along to Leland Mitchell who donated the plaque to the Solvay-Geddes Historical Society last fall. The now President of the Historical Society, Susan Millet, copied all these names off the plaque and sent them to me so I could post them on this site.

Many of the veterans listed here are no longer alive. Many of them are and have important stories to tell. Those of us who are interested try to gather as much of the history as we can while it is still available from the people who were there.

Thank-you all.

When Miss Parsons Retired

When Marion Parsons retired as principal of Cherry Road School, it was a huge event for the community. She had become an institution. We have many artifacts in the family collection of Aunt Marion memorabilia of this time. There had been luncheons, dinners, ceremonies, and edicts of a special day in June to be held each year: Marion Parsons Day.

One artifact I have in my possesion is a letter written to Marion by a trustee on the School Board. It is written on letterhead of The Merchants National Bank and Trust Company of Syracuse, and signed by Trust Officer, Kenneth F. Barton. Dated May 7, 1952, the letter reads:

Dear Miss Parsons:

I consider that I personally am very fortunate to have the privilege of advising you that a resolution was unanimously passed at the annual meeting of the School Board held on May 6, 1952, expressing to you the very deep and sincere appreciation of the residents of the district for the long and faithful service which you have rendered to the School and the community and in particular, to the children of the Westvale area.

I am sorry that you were not present at the meeting so that you could have realized from the manner in which this resolution was adopted how very deep the feeling of the people was and in what esteem you are held in the community.

Sincerely,
Kennneth Barton

History of a Suburb

Almost every city in the United States has what became known as "suburbs" during the post-war housing boom of the 1950s. Most of these 'suburbs' were at one time farmland--dairy farms, apple orchards, cattle ranches.

Cherry Road School grew from a one-room schoolhouse in a farm community called Westvale. The area had been settled during the 1800s by several families. Over time, as their children grew up and had families, they stayed close by and built farms of their own. The barn in the picture above was the Jerome Dairy barn. The Jerome family lived and farmed in Westvale. Many of the farms in Westvale were able to survive for a while as the city grew around them. A vivid memory of my 1950s childhood is Van Jerome delivering fresh milk in the morning, glass bottles clanging as he placed them inside the tiny milk door in the kitchen. You could hear him whistling all the way back to his milk truck.

Eventually the Jerome dairyfarm, too, would have to make way for shopping malls, neighborhoods, freeways, more schools....During the second half of the 20th century, a lot of the landmarks and the familiar faces of Westvale disappeared in the name of progress. The Jerome barn came down in the late 1960s to make way for Route 695. The new road cut a swath through fields where cows and horses once grazed lazily, where children delighted to ride on the backs of big wide workhorses, help pitch hay in the barn, watch Ned Jerome hard at work running the dairy started by the family in the 1920s.

Just up the road, prior to the 1920s, my great grandfather,Willis Parsons turned a dirt farm into prime orchards. He began his work in earnest during the 1890s. Eventually his farm would be parceled off to create one of the early neighborhoods of western Syracuse. His foray into real estate came about not because he lost interest in growing prize fruit, but because he could no longer make a living doing so.

In a Syracuse Post Standard article dated 1917, titled: County Fruit Growers will Inspect Orchards, the writer notes that, "...the Onondaga County Farm Bureau will devote most of next Saturday to an inspection trip....The party will assemble at 10 o'clock at the farm of President Willis Parsons on the West Genesee Street road and spend the balance of the afternoon looking over his orchard." The story continues, "The Parson's orchard is a remarkable one of young trees of apples, cherries plums, and other fruits."

What is left of the cherries today is a street called Cherry Road, and a school named Cherry Road School. The most interesting part of the story is what the sons and daughters of the Jeromes and the Parsons and other Wesvales families did to guide their families through an economic crash and a great war.

That tale will be told, in part, in The Brass Bell.

There are many stories about Westvale, Solvay, Geddes, Fairmont, Camillus--small communities clinging to the western boundary of a small American city, just past the New York State Fairgrounds. This one reveals a cherry orchard, a hen house, a school teacher, and a handful of children eager to learn, eager to live up to handed-down farm values, eager to be part of a community.

The Mother's Club

The Importance of Parent Participation

There's been a lot of chatter in the news lately about who is responsible for a child's success in the classroom. There is a movement gaining momentum across the country that places the blame of failing students squarely on the shoulders of classroom teachers.

Part of the success story of Cherry Road School was parent and community involvement. Marion Parsons formed The Mother's Club in 1929. These women played a key role in letting kids know that their family was part of the school and the school was part of the community. They helped raise money every year for the annual 8th grade trip by serving covered dish lunches in the new school cafeteria. The mothers were an important cog in the wheel that made the school go 'round.

My Aunt Wilma Cole recently sent me an article dated February 2, 1935 from the Syracuse Post Standard. The headline reads: Pupils Honor Mothers at Hobby Show. You can tell that the article held a prominent position in the paper, with a multiple column picture featuring my Aunt Helen Cole and Jacqueline Gallagher.

Calling the event one of the school's gala events of the year, it is described in the article as a combination pet show, hobby show, doll show, and exhibit of cooking and sewing, toys, art, and foreign articles. In the picture, my aunt is holding a cake she has made and for which she won a prize. Jacqueline holds a prize-winning doll entered by Jean Stone. Other prizes in the the doll section went to Pollyann Schwartz; Donald Cole and Donald Beagle won prizes in the toy category. Prizes for drawing were awarded to Billy Dwyer and Donald Crawford. (My Aunt Helen is 14 years-old in the picture. She died this year in her late 80s, as did Donald Cole.)

The hobby show was held in the gym/auditorium and was meant to help raise money for the Mother's Club and to honor their participation in the school. One can tell how sincerely the kids were engaged in the event by the long list of students on the organizing committee, boys and girls alike.

If a student was failing or in trouble, it was an issue for everyone and blame for no one in particular. Mostly the children of Cherry Road School worked hard to do well and honor adults who were part of the larger community. They had a sense that these were people who cared. So they honored The Mother's Club every year and did their best in school. (Not that they didn't have fun and try to get away with things once in a while....they did, and those are some of the most heartwarming stories of all.)

This picture of Miss Parsons and some of the early CRS teachers would have been taken around the time of the newspaper article.

Did You Know?

Cherry Road School Grew and Grew

Did you know that Cherry Road School has undergone construction at least eight times? The original building that consisted of two classrooms (rooms 104 and 108) and an office was constructed in 1926. Classes did not begin in this building, however, until at least 1927 when room 103 was completed.

Students met in a refurbished farm building, the Parsons' parlor, and the Parsons' barn while construction was underway. There is some conflicting information about dates. However, I have spoken with at least two of the people who began first grade in the refurbished chicken coop and because of their birthdates, and because this is how they remember it, it would have had to be at least 1927.

In 1928, room 105 was completed, and then in 1930, room 110 and the gym were added on to the growing structure made of fire-proof bricks. Eleven years later, in 1941, a second floor went up and included rooms 202, 204, 206, 210, and a girls' lavatory. Five years later rooms 203, 205 and 209 and a boys lavatory were added.

A few years passed, the school grew in numbers, and in 1949, the cafeteria along with six classrooms were built. This addition included rooms 111, 112, 113, 114, 115, and 116.

Another addition, including a playground and six classrooms, was completed just before my class started kindergarten in 1953. These classrooms were on the second floor: 213, 214, 215, 216, 217, and 218. Of note, this was also the year my Great Aunt Marion, Miss Parsons, retired.

Miss Parsons and a fellow teacher are shown on the front step in the picture above.

Seeking Guest Bloggers!

Would you like to be a Guest Blogger on the Cherry Road School book project blog? Do you have a story to tell about the olden days? About the not-so-olden days? Whether you graduated from Cherry Road School in 1935, 1955, or 1995, please feel welcome to share a story of your days at this unique neighborhood school.

For more information, contact the blog host at:

schoolhouse2@comcast.net (put CRS Blog in the subject line)

Remembering Cherry Road School

Cherry Road School Song

Do you remember the Alma Mater song written by John Garofalo and sung to the tune of America the Beautiful?

Surrounded by the hills and dales
Beneath fair skies of blue
In Westavle, stands our school, that's been
To all of us so true.

We came to thee in infancy
For knowledge, love and truth
We learned in school - "the Golden Rule"
To carry on through youth.

And when in life, we reach our goal
We'll ask the Lord to bless
Our Alma Mater - that to ous
Has brought such happiness.

Oh, Cherry Road, we'll honor thee
As swift years hurry by
Our love for thee - eternally
Is one that shall not die.

Remembering Westvale

The Importance of Community

One of the things that bothers me about so-called school reform measures today is that teachers shoulder so much of the blame. Having listened to the stories of Cherry Road School alumni now for several years, it's clear that what they remember is not how they did on the test, not what they learned in the class, but the magic of the community of which they were part. It was for their membership in this community they tried their hardest in school and on the playing field. What they did they did to please and impress not only their teachers, but also their parents, the Mother's Club, and their peers. I say peers because if one student did not do well, it reflected poorly on all the students. Why? Because they were part of a community whose very framework depended upon the participation of everyone. These are the lessons they learned that helped each and every one succeed in the lives that followed their days at Cherry Road School.

Some of you might recognize the picture above of McArdell's Gas Station, a landmark in Westvale on the corner of West Genesee Street and Maple Road. I used to go there with my dad. He'd meet up with his high school buddies and I'd drink grape and orange sodas from the Ne Hi machine. See the little room up at the top of the building? A guy named Hank lived up there for a while after the war. He may have been Japanese. One day he came and lived at our house, just a few doors up the highway. He never spoke a word to me and I just assumed he didn't speak English. Instead, he'd open his bedroom door a crack and shove a piece of double bubble gum into the palm of my hand and close the door again laughing. I found out later he was a graduate student and spoke very good English.

I'll never forget my days in Westvale and I'm learning from my interviews that this holds true for everyone who has lived in this odd little community with no Main Street. Instead of a Main Street with a soda fountain and a five and dime, Cherry Road School, in many ways, served as the heart of the community. There were other institutions that were part of the Main drag of Westvale, spread out over many blocks and neighborhoods. There was Lundy's Drive-In where they brought bright silver trays to attach to the side of your car window and served the best hamburgers and chocolate shakes on the planet; McArdell's Gas Station was a club house for high school boys in the way these grease joints were. The movie theater was a place to go on Saturdays. The owners sold candy to the kids on the cheap and then hustled upstairs and ran the film. The school was always open on a Saturday, all seasons of the year, for a pick-up game of basketball in the gym or baseball out on the rolling campus of green grass and pine trees. Sledding on the reservoir in wintertime holds a story for everyone. Westvale made an impression so deep on each and every student that none of them ever forgot to live up to the expectations that were a reflection of the surrounding community.

How sad that our national education leaders have now put the burden on the shoulders of individual teachers. A new organization called Students First, the brainchild of the woman who recently, as the the superintendent of schools in Washington, DC, fired 200+ teachers because their students were failing. She proposes closing community schools instead of supporting these communities so they might do better. She suggests that parents should be able to choose schools that are doing a good job, rather than bolstering schools in their own neighborhoods with investments of time and attention.

What do you think?

Primary Source Documents

Letters from Papa

In this picture you see Willis Parsons examining ripe apples in his orchard. The picture would have been taken sometime in the early 1920s, somewhere between Parsons Drive and Maple Road to the east and west, and Genesee Street and Salsibury Road, to the north and south...Perhaps he is in the backyard of the family farmhouse on the corner of West Genesee and Parsons Drive. Of course, in those days, roads like Parsons Drive and the others mentioned here were, for the most part, nothing but dirt farm roads.

This past fall, while I was visiting, my cousin generously gave me original copies of letters written in 1924 and 1925 by Willis to Marion while she was teaching in Omak, Washington. The letters came from my cousin's mother, my Aunt Helen, Willis's granddaughter and Marion's neice. Helen died in October while I was there; these letters were in her effects. Included in the letters was a missive written by Helen to Aunt Martha, Marion's sister, in 1935.

Reading Willis's letters one gets a feel of what life was like on the farm before the farm became a neighborhood and a school. One begins to sense emerging feelings of unease about the viability of the farm as a sustainable business. He talks about picking cherries in the rain and the picking lasting almost a month; they were badly in need of hot weather and if he put some of his crop in cold storage, he might be able to hold on for better prices the following year. He indicates a growing interest in the real estate business. One can almost feel the wheels turning in his mind; perhaps the only salvation he sees is to sell off the farm. He would have to make that sacrifice mean something. He would have to create a community. At this time, he has already begun to plan the new school with Judge Terziev and others in the area who had already bought into the Parsons' acreage.

For a writer of narrative non-fiction, these letters are gold. They help those of us here in the future understand, or at least glimpse, the thinking processes and problems of those in the past who took their stories with them to the grave.

In Helen's letter written in 1935 she talks about a horrific rain storm, about spending the night at Grandma Harkness's with Ruth and Janet Parsons. These are names I hadn't heard since childhood. Genealogy records show Grandma Harkness to be part of the Terry and Parsons family who had donated the original one-room school on Terry Road.

Writing The Brass Bell has been 75% detective work, and 25% writing.

If anyone has any information about Grandma Harkness, Guy Terry Parsons, Sr., Charles Herbert Parsons, or Alice "Allie" Terry, please contact me: schoolhouse2@comcast.net

I still have a ways to go before I am able to untangle the web of the Parsons, Jerome, Schuyler, and Terry families, from whose farms sprung what is today Westvale, and from whose vision gave rise to the Cherry Road School.