The Town Point One-Room Schoolhouse

The Town Point One-Room Schoolhouse

Town Point one-room schoolhouse, circa 1925

Dorsey Johnson in his old seat in the remodeled schoolhouse at Town Point

            In the late nineteenth century and early twentieth century many one-room schoolhouses dotted the Cecil County countryside. Residents and former residents of the Chesapeake City area have clear memories of attending these unique institutions. In this article, former students recall their experiences in the schools located at Town Point, Chesapeake City, and Earleville.

The Town Point School

Bill Briscoe: “My brother, Frank, and I attended the one-room schoolhouse in Town Point through the seventh grade. We had one teacher and she taught all seven grades. When I was in the fourth and fifth grades, I had arithmetic, history, and geography three times a week, and when I was in the sixth and seventh grades we helped the teacher grade papers from the other kids. The teacher was Gertrude Manlove, and she had thirty or forty kids.

“In the room was a big, pot-bellied stove with a pipe running all the way to the other end. When we got older we had to carry the coal in from the coal house. We got our water from a farm across the road from us. There was a fenced-off spring and we took a bucket down and dipped up the water every time we needed it. Everybody drank out of the same dipper. At that time, the road to Port Herman was dirt; it never was paved while I lived down there.”

Dorsey Johnson: “I went to the one-room schoolhouse in Town Point. As far as I know I was the only one in the seventh grade. That was in 1937 and I remember when we had the graduation exercise at the Presbyterian Church in Chesapeake. I had to get up there by myself and say a little piece. I have all of my report cards, which are all signed by Miss Manlove. She was a good teacher. The kids had a lot of respect for her.

            “The building is still standing. It’s a nice-looking modern residence now. The owners, Doug and Debbie, let me inside for a visit recently. When I attended, if you walked in the front door the aisle was right down the middle, with the desks in rows on each side. At the back was a water cooler in the corner and the stove which was on a platform. I recall stepping up on it. Miss Manlove had her desk there, also. The blackboard was on the back wall with a mirror above it so that when Miss Manlove was standing there writing, she could see if anybody was misbehaving without turning around.”

            “I remember the day Irving Griffith jumped out the window. It was the spring of the year and he wanted to go outside, but Miss Manlove said, "No!" When she went back to lock the door, Irving leaped through the open window. Well, when he got out there he realized he had made a mistake, but he wasn't tall enough to climb back in. But after that he didn't go out any more windows because she stopped in and told his parents. They were strict; I know that.

            “When I went to school there, the road to Port Herman was cobblestone. I recall walking across it many times to carry back pails of water from the spring to fill the water cooler. That old spring is still there in the field. After the seventh grade, I went to the Chesapeake City High School. The bus driver was Clifford Whiteoak, and I recall how he always wore a suit of clothes when he drove the bus. The school at that time had a bell tower. Sometimes students would be allowed to pull the rope to ring the bell.”

Ruth Ginn: “I lived in Town Point as a child, and I remember attending the one-room schoolhouse there. When it snowed, Miss Manlove stayed at our house. She lived in Cecilton and didn’t want to make the trip in the snow. She was a big lady as I recall. She would get up the next morning, eat her breakfast, make her bed, and take off.

“I remember some of the other students also, especially Irvin Griffith, who was in the seventh grade. He was one of the oldest and was really an ornery guy. I was sitting in class when he pulled the hot poker out of the stove and chased Miss Manlove all around the schoolroom with it. She didn't do a thing to him to make him do that. I think she was half afraid of him. But she really did run around that room. And he finally put it down. Sometimes, when the girls went to the outhouse, he’d go out there and knock on the door and act silly.”

Gertrude Eveland: “My brother and I went to the one-room schoolhouse at Town Point. His name is Robert Johnston, but everybody calls him ‘Snake.’ I'll tell you how he got that nickname. Miss Manlove couldn't get her car started one afternoon after school. So Bobby said, "Let me look! Maybe I can find what's wrong." Then he said, all innocent like, ‘Oh, Miss Manlove, there's a snake in there wrapped around your coil.’ Well, he had put that snake in there to be ornery. So, from then on everybody called him "Snake." But the teacher never found out.

            “Now, I know that Miss Manlove did a great job of teaching. She taught the First Grade to the Seventh. We were all in groups and everything went very well. I remember some of my schoolmates: Ruth Ginn, Virginia Purdy, Frankie Ulary, May Briscoe, Fred Rothers, Dorsey Johnson, the McConney girls, the Griffin boys, and all the Whitlocks. The really ornery one was Lewis Whitlock. We were scared to death of him.”

            Robert "Snake" Johnston: “Sure, I went to the Town Point one-room schoolhouse. I went there with a kid named Murray, Billy and Ruth Purdy, Bill Purner, Ruthy Broadwater, the Mindosas, Charley Bailey, the Sheldons, and the Bakeovens. There were four of us Johnstons: Daisy, Arthur, Gertrude, and myself. They closed the school down when I was in the Sixth Grade; then they bused us to Chesapeake Elementary. I remember when Murray tried to knock the foundation out from underneath the Town Point School one time. He used a sledgehammer on it. You can still see the damage to the wall if you go look at it. It's on the side facing the river. He did a pretty good job on it.”

          “Another thing I recall is that we had a coal stove in the middle of the room. Well, one day Murray threw a bullet into it and busted it. It was quite an explosion—scared all of us. But we kept right on using it. Murray didn't go to school there long, but he didn't want to go at all; that's why he did those ornery things.”