The rumor reached my six-year-old ears long before the first day of school: my assigned first grade teacher, Miss Perry, was strict. I wasn’t sure what that meant, but it did not sound good. For one thing, she’d taught my mother when she was in first grade, which meant she must be old.

On my first day of school Mama walked the three blocks from our house on East Main Street to Hampton Academy on West Main Street in Plymouth, North Carolina. She and Miss Perry exchanged pleasantries, and I was escorted to my seat. While I watched Mama go out the door the cold fist of terror formed in the pit of my stomach.

My teacher smiled, but I was still scared to death of her. I’d heard the whispered tales of her special paddle, and I knew all the words to “School Days. . .taught to the tune of a hickory stick. . .” I never saw evidence of such a paddle in the whole year of first grade, or a hickory stick, but I still feared my first grade teacher.

My classroom was on the bottom floor of Hampton Academy, first room to the right. The two-story schoolhouse was built in 1902 on West Main Street in Plymouth, North Carolina. Plymouth is about eighty miles inland from North Carolina's Outer Banks, a small mill town. When I entered first grade in 1953, it was near the end of the academy's era as a place for educating Plymouth’s children. The top floor was in such disrepair that it was no longer safe to use. During its last year the school was limited to first and second grades, using the ground floor only.

Even so, on the bottom floor there was a fire escape – wooden steps leading from the windowsill to the ground. My friend, Mary Jane, remembers a little boy in her class used to sneak out through the window, down the three steps and run for home whenever he got the chance. A cast iron stove took up a prominent place in the room, and this heater is most likely the reason for the fire escape.

Typical of buildings in that pre-air conditioned era fifteen-foot high ceilings, tall windows and fans were the only cooling system during the hot days of early September. School didn’t start until after Labor Day and ended in May but some days still got plenty hot. In art class we made fans out of manila drawing paper, accordion-folded and decorated with crayon drawings.

We had recess every morning. If it didn’t rain we played outside, and ate our snacks we brought from home. Boiled peanuts in a small paper bag is one snack I remember in particular. Even though the playground was equipped with the usual swings, teeter-totters, and a sliding board I played house under a canopy of overhanging shrubs that grew in a corner of the playground. During afternoon recess we were organized into groups to play Red Rover, London Bridge, Ring Around the Roses, Hop Scotch, Jump Rope and Drop the Handkerchief. The sing-song chants and peels of laugher still linger in my memory.

At the end of recess all of the children were lined up, girls in one line and boys in another, to get one final drink of water and to use the restroom. That left no excuses for leaving the classroom once we were back inside.

My favorite subject in school was art.  Fat, broken crayons, with the paper sleeves missing, were stored in a big box.  Their condition made it necessary to make a small mark in the corner of my papers to see if a crayon was black, blue or brown.  White paste in large jars was spread with wooden tongue depressors, donated by a local doctor.  And yes, I tasted the sweet paste, but don’t believe I was ever guilty of actually eating it.

My crayon drawing of a bird sitting on her nest was chosen by Miss Perry to be on display at the Hampton Academy PTA Art Show. I found that drawing a few years ago when going through Mama’s things after her funeral.  I brought it home and it now lives in my desk drawer, a memento of past fame and glory.  Probably all of my classmates had an entry in the show, but I felt very special to have my picture hanging on the wall.

A new wing was completed at Washington Street Elementary School and Hampton Academy closed its doors in 1958 and never used as a school again.  The Academy later became home to the Plymouth Women’s Garden Club.  These ladies used the building for their activities until the late 1990s. later it was purchased by the owners of a bed and breakfast and used for hosting various events like parties and wedding receptions.

Whatever Hampton Academy is used for, patrons are likely to hear the echoes of “Ring Around the Rosy”, the scratch of crayons on newsprint, the screech of chalk on the blackboard and the shuffle of little shoes on the wooden floors.