By Claudia Sanderson, a Presque Isle Electric & Gas Co-op member
The history of a one-room schoolhouse is embedded in my heart. I was born in 1951, which was the same year my grandparents purchased the one-room school on Alcona Road between Harrisville and Black River, Michigan. My grandparents drove up from Detroit in January of that year. The immense snowfall prevented them from getting anywhere close to the front door. But they ultimately did go forward with the sale before they ever got a glimpse of the interior of this unique structure. It is much to our family’s good fortune that they decided to purchase this rare and one-of-a-kind former school.
One of the most significant artifacts left behind was the school bell (more about that shortly). Thus, we began reinventing this former schoolhouse into a family keepsake. Family members did all of the work, most with minimal background in construction, plumbing, or electricity. Eventually, this once-upon-a-time “learning center” that local students attended became a four-bedroom gathering place. Nothing can compare to the countless memories shared by five families and cousins galore who ventured to this haven in the north each summer.
We were all used to relatively modern conveniences available in the 1950s. So using an outhouse and hand pump from a well was quite an experience for city kids living in rural areas. When doing dishes, bath time, and nighttime trips to the outdoor “facilities,” these resources were functional but less than optimal. My dad (bless his sense of humor) loved to wake everyone up in his typical, subtle way. He had been known to play “Taps” on his bugle for a get-up and get-going early rise. On a few occasions, he would pull the rope on the school bell, which, as we know, could be heard from a significant distance away. None of us minded his antics because it meant more time in the day to enjoy activities with extended family.
It was, eventually, decided by the collective family members that the bell should be given to Ralph Miller, the teacher/principal of Mt. Joy school. He lived and maintained the farm on the property next door to the school. However, after hauling the bell over to Mr. Miller’s property, someone took it from that location. Its whereabouts have never been discovered. And the precious sound of that memorable bell has never been heard again.
Rolling hills, farmland, and a peek-a-boo view of Lake Huron surrounded the schoolhouse. I can readily recall the sound of the rustling wind blowing through the leaves on the giant oak tree out back, as well as the feel of the northern air whenever you venture outside. And I can still capture the scent of the sandy beach on Lake Huron, which was frequently your private beach back in those early days. Twenty-one grandchildren had the privilege of sharing and celebrating this historic building. Five of those grandchildren became educators. Although our educational experiences were different, we greatly respect how lessons were presented to students who had attended this school. In 2006, we re-enacted life in this rural one-room school and dedicated Mt. Joy School as a historic site. May we forever continue to appreciate the history and beauty of this area of the state.
About the Author: As a retired special education teacher, I have had the privilege of working with some amazing children and exceptional families. It was truly a privilege to share in their early years and be able to impact their lives in such a positive way. I have a knack for writing poetry. Every family member or close friend has been the recipient of poetic verses that have been written specifically for them.
