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It was Patriots' Day, I believe 1994. I was president of the Lexington Historical Society and was watching the parade from a curb at Maple Street and Mass. Ave., looking for the Historical Society antique fire equipment to pass by. I saw the hand pumper being pulled by about a dozen hearty members and then turned my head to look for the 1911 LaFrance first motorized engine. Suddenly I felt drops on my hat. I looked up, then looked back at the pumper where water was coming out of the hose and raining on my head. When I asked about it afterwards, I was told "We thought your tricorne was on fire."
Sue Rockwell
Sue Rockwell
As a former Forest Street kid, I am saddened about the recent fire at Hancock Scool, yet hopeful it can be saved. In 1977, I’d heard Hancock was going out of service. I was glad that foresight saved this fabulous building for condos. My heart goes out to all who have lost their homes, and I am glad no one was injured.
We live in New Hampshire, and when we visited my parents at 55 Forest St., I loved driving by Hancock. Majestic, it had fabulous character. My Mom, Betty Fitzgerald Connell, now 90, Hancock Class of 1929, e-mailed me, referring to it as her Childhood Castle.
In the days when I attended all six grades (1951-1957), we “walkers” would trot a few doors down to Hancock, head home for lunch, Big Brother Bob Emery’s TV Show, and back for the afternoon session. What a life! How I took it for granted! The third floor of the fortress featured two generously sized classrooms for the sixth graders, complete with cloak rooms and a wonderful old creaky auditorium with a large stage, enclosed by heavy maroon curtains. Shiny, dark, wooden floors held mismatched long benches. Marble busts of Washington and Lincoln sat on pedestals; near dormer-window alcoves, these were sacred stuff we never dreamed of touching.
The auditorium featured assemblies and pageants. Miss Spooner, the music teacher with the shiny pitch-pipe, taught music and glee club there.
Mr. White taught the orchestra to play instruments. Mrs. Blackhall, the art teacher with pearls and dark suits, had pupils painting theatrical backdrops. And Mrs. Donnelly, the posture lady, closed the auditorium shades to take spinal pictures of us pared down to our skivvies. If walls could talk!
The second floor contained the principal’s office for Margaret Keefe, under which was the grand entrance. There was a large hall with rows of
coat hooks. The ends of each floor held “basements” (restrooms). Third-, fourth- and fifth-grade classrooms were housed on this level. The first floor featured the same layout, hosting primary grades. In the real basement was one classroom for second grade, and the lunchroom/gym. There was a small room off to the side that served as the office for quiet, kindly Mr. Kidd, the school custodian.
On every floor, the hall walls were paneled in bead board, and plastered above in light green. The spectacular classroom windows were gigantic,
admitting plenty of light. Large black and white portraits of presidents adorned the walls. Spiral turreted stairwells featuring Palladian windows accommodated students’ passage.
Recess found first-graders playing Duck, Duck Goose on the Forest Street playground, which supported a big, slippery slide under a Gingko Tree.
Older kids frolicked on land facing Belfry Hill. Swings, teeter-totters, and games of Dodgeball whetted appetites for snacks that followed. Indoor recess meant “Huckle Buckle Beanstalk.” At the end of the day, the walkers who were the best behaved had the thrill of staying after school to help clap erasers and tidy up.
Hancock was more than a school for those of us who lived in its Forest Street neighborhood. It was our daily after-school and weekend recreation
spot, complete with playground equipment begging to be used. We swung, slid, teetered, rode bikes as cops and robbers around and around the building, shot marbles, held pick-up ball games, and played “Relevo” daily, all with no adult coaching or uniforms.
The school was firmly planted at the foot of Belfry Hill, our winter playground, complete with two hills: “Big” and “Little.” Snow-stormy No
School days meant intense sledding awaited. In spring, the schoolyard was the showcase for Maypole dancing in my mother’s era, science classes in mine, and the school picnic every June, complete with tuna sandwiches, chips, and Ne-Hi Orange Crush soda
My mother, grandmother and five siblings attended Hancock (my mom and elder brother even had the same fifth-grade teacher). The teachers we recall are Miss Noyes, Kathryn Dargan, Violette Dubois, Lois Day, Helene Rothblatt, Irene Roche, Josephine Hawkins, Jeanne Dwyer, Rita Wall, Natalie Carpenter, Mrs. Malloy, Mrs. Sartanowicz, Mary Delsie, Marion Michaelis/White, Miss Mitchell/Flynter, Ethel Bears and Jean Ciampa, plus
Mrs. Howe for Reading, nurse Alice Mogan, Mrs. McNally for gym, and superintendent Paul Poehler
Hancock School at Belfry Hill was something out of a storybook. The smell of the creamy white paste, the sound of the teacher collecting coins
for the Savings Book Stamps, the taste of graham crackers and milk, the touch of a teacher’s hand placing a hard-earned gold star on my forehead… all enclosed in that grand sight, that regally splendid red-brick-and-gray-slate fortress …
Now held as a cherished memory.
Ann Connell Bergin, formerly of 55 Forest St., is a resident of Amherst, N.H. (submitted to the Essay Collection, originally written for the Lexington Minuteman in 2008 after the Hancock School Fire.)
We live in New Hampshire, and when we visited my parents at 55 Forest St., I loved driving by Hancock. Majestic, it had fabulous character. My Mom, Betty Fitzgerald Connell, now 90, Hancock Class of 1929, e-mailed me, referring to it as her Childhood Castle.
In the days when I attended all six grades (1951-1957), we “walkers” would trot a few doors down to Hancock, head home for lunch, Big Brother Bob Emery’s TV Show, and back for the afternoon session. What a life! How I took it for granted! The third floor of the fortress featured two generously sized classrooms for the sixth graders, complete with cloak rooms and a wonderful old creaky auditorium with a large stage, enclosed by heavy maroon curtains. Shiny, dark, wooden floors held mismatched long benches. Marble busts of Washington and Lincoln sat on pedestals; near dormer-window alcoves, these were sacred stuff we never dreamed of touching.
The auditorium featured assemblies and pageants. Miss Spooner, the music teacher with the shiny pitch-pipe, taught music and glee club there.
Mr. White taught the orchestra to play instruments. Mrs. Blackhall, the art teacher with pearls and dark suits, had pupils painting theatrical backdrops. And Mrs. Donnelly, the posture lady, closed the auditorium shades to take spinal pictures of us pared down to our skivvies. If walls could talk!
The second floor contained the principal’s office for Margaret Keefe, under which was the grand entrance. There was a large hall with rows of
coat hooks. The ends of each floor held “basements” (restrooms). Third-, fourth- and fifth-grade classrooms were housed on this level. The first floor featured the same layout, hosting primary grades. In the real basement was one classroom for second grade, and the lunchroom/gym. There was a small room off to the side that served as the office for quiet, kindly Mr. Kidd, the school custodian.
On every floor, the hall walls were paneled in bead board, and plastered above in light green. The spectacular classroom windows were gigantic,
admitting plenty of light. Large black and white portraits of presidents adorned the walls. Spiral turreted stairwells featuring Palladian windows accommodated students’ passage.
Recess found first-graders playing Duck, Duck Goose on the Forest Street playground, which supported a big, slippery slide under a Gingko Tree.
Older kids frolicked on land facing Belfry Hill. Swings, teeter-totters, and games of Dodgeball whetted appetites for snacks that followed. Indoor recess meant “Huckle Buckle Beanstalk.” At the end of the day, the walkers who were the best behaved had the thrill of staying after school to help clap erasers and tidy up.
Hancock was more than a school for those of us who lived in its Forest Street neighborhood. It was our daily after-school and weekend recreation
spot, complete with playground equipment begging to be used. We swung, slid, teetered, rode bikes as cops and robbers around and around the building, shot marbles, held pick-up ball games, and played “Relevo” daily, all with no adult coaching or uniforms.
The school was firmly planted at the foot of Belfry Hill, our winter playground, complete with two hills: “Big” and “Little.” Snow-stormy No
School days meant intense sledding awaited. In spring, the schoolyard was the showcase for Maypole dancing in my mother’s era, science classes in mine, and the school picnic every June, complete with tuna sandwiches, chips, and Ne-Hi Orange Crush soda
My mother, grandmother and five siblings attended Hancock (my mom and elder brother even had the same fifth-grade teacher). The teachers we recall are Miss Noyes, Kathryn Dargan, Violette Dubois, Lois Day, Helene Rothblatt, Irene Roche, Josephine Hawkins, Jeanne Dwyer, Rita Wall, Natalie Carpenter, Mrs. Malloy, Mrs. Sartanowicz, Mary Delsie, Marion Michaelis/White, Miss Mitchell/Flynter, Ethel Bears and Jean Ciampa, plus
Mrs. Howe for Reading, nurse Alice Mogan, Mrs. McNally for gym, and superintendent Paul Poehler
Hancock School at Belfry Hill was something out of a storybook. The smell of the creamy white paste, the sound of the teacher collecting coins
for the Savings Book Stamps, the taste of graham crackers and milk, the touch of a teacher’s hand placing a hard-earned gold star on my forehead… all enclosed in that grand sight, that regally splendid red-brick-and-gray-slate fortress …
Now held as a cherished memory.
Ann Connell Bergin, formerly of 55 Forest St., is a resident of Amherst, N.H. (submitted to the Essay Collection, originally written for the Lexington Minuteman in 2008 after the Hancock School Fire.)
“I feel fortunate to live in a town where education is held in high esteem,” says Sue Schiffer, long-time resident, community volunteer and current Co-President of the Lexington Education Foundation (LEF). “One of my favorite Lexington memories is the first time I attended an LEF Grantee Reception and heard the excitement in the voices of the Grant recipients.” LEF funds a competitive grants program for Lexington educators, through
donations from area residents and businesses. “It’s a powerful experience hearing the grantees share their plans for implementing their grants in the public schools and witnessing their dedication to their profession and to the children of Lexington.”
Sue Schiffer
donations from area residents and businesses. “It’s a powerful experience hearing the grantees share their plans for implementing their grants in the public schools and witnessing their dedication to their profession and to the children of Lexington.”
Sue Schiffer
