Sentimental Journey

The journey is over,
I’ve reached sixty-five,
So has Craig School
No children---inside.

This school was built a long time ago.
Oh----around nineteen fifteen or so,
The place where it stands was a field of wild hay,
Where the Indian children perhaps did play.

Then the ambitious farmers
Along with Craig Town,
Formed the Independent District,
Which won great renown.

Two teachers were hired to teach in this school
The three r’s, history and the Golden Rule.
I, too, had my eight years of learning here,
That’s why it’s so sentimental and dear.

Then way back in nineteen fifty four
The teacher, was me, who opened the door.
I never dreamed that someday I
Would teach my home school so nearby.

The enrollment at Craig School really grew,
To help now another teacher came, too.
A charming lady, Ida Nicholson by name,
Became my co-worker in the teaching game.

Eighteen years we taught side by side,
Watching kids come and go, with pride.
Like two mother hens with chicks, we’d become,
Loving and guiding and teaching each one.

Talking, sharing, and planning together,
Nicholson and I put on the best programs ever.
Remember the Lawrence Welk, or Sullivan show?
Oh, my! That seems like a long time ago.

But now the doors will be closed for good
What will become of this building that stood
All sixty odd years through weather and storm,
Will it be filled with beans or maybe corn?

Why tear down old landmarks for something new?
Progress, they say is necessary too.
So I’ll just shut my eyes and also each ear
And just remember the kids who were so dear.

Thanks to all friends and patrons true,
To all the kids that I’ve taught, too.
I hope I’ve inspired you in some small way,
To live, to work, and be fair every day.

By Esther Oloff
May 26, 1976

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