One year in Ola

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Another summer had come and gone and school started like it always did, right after Labor Day weekend. But this particular year was going to be different, I mean different from what was normal for us eighth graders.

  I had attended McDonough Elementary for seven years in a row. In the fall of 1968, all of that changed for some reason. I still don’t know why we graduated at McDonough Elementary and we did not attend the eighth grade like everybody else at that school.

  We were told that next year (1968-1969) we would be sent out to Ola to attend the eighth grade at J.B. Henderson Elementary School. I had always walked to and from school during my first seven years, but we were told that we would meet in the morning by the gym and across from the cotton gin owned and operated by the Welch and McGarity families to catch a bus to Ola. I had always wondered what it would be like to ride a bus to school, so here was my big chance to see!

  Memories rush through my head and I distinctly recall the door that opened for me and I saw this kind man smile at me who said to, “hop in and find you a seat.”

  He turned out to be a very friendly person and I found out his name was Mr. Holder. Mr. Holder lived in the Ola Community and drove us to and from J.B. Henderson Elementary for the entire school year. I don’t know this for sure but I do remember that back then, a good many bus drivers were farmers by trade and this was a good part time job for them, especially during the winter when no crops were growing. My wife’s grandfather, Mr. Otis Price, drove a school bus for several years, I happen to know, and Henry County was full of farms and dairies. The Bob Strickland Farm and the Greer Dairies were just two of many that Henry County was fortunate to have.

  I must admit, it was exciting to me to get to ride on a school bus on a daily trip. The road trip took up an entire period getting to and from Ola and back to McDonough.

  On my first ride to school, I thought about a song that was popular at the time, by an artist named Bobby Gentry. It went like this, “It was the third of June, another sleepy, dusty day. I was out chopping cotton and my brother was bailing hay.” The name of the song was “Ode to Billie Joe.”

  I would see people on their farms that were working hard and that song went along perfectly with the memory of what I was experiencing back then.

  The first day we arrived in front of the school and it seemed like a very small building, and it was. There were only four classrooms, and I confirmed the other day with Steve Lynn (who grew up in Ola) that they had two grades in each room. That is how small the school was back then.

  The four rooms each had one teacher per room. Miss Lee taught us English, Jack Garrett taught us math, J.J. Johnson taught us science and Mr. Dunkin taught us history and was also the principal.

  That year we had to learn the Gettysburg Address so we could recite it. When my time came, I don’t think I was quite ready to recite the entire address, but I did know the first part.

  Part two of this column will be published in the February 3, 2021 edition.

  Jeff Reeves is a lifelong resident of McDonough. He and his wife, Betsy, have one son.

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About Jeff Reeves

Jeff Reeves is a lifelong resident of McDonough and has recently joined the Times as an advertising sales representative. He and his wife Betsy have one son.

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