The Three R’s

By Jim Hagarty

This is a very old one-room schoolhouse in a rural setting near Goderich, Ontario. It is similar to the one I attended as a kid except that the one I went to was sided in brick. This one was probably sided in clapboard originally and then eventually covered over in its present-day “insulbrick”, a substance that was similar to asphalt shingles except that it was designed to give the appearance of real brick work. I am grateful this building is still standing. It appears to be situated on a private farm property. Some day it might disappear. The old schoolhouses had two doors – the one on the left entered into the boys’ “cloakroom”, the one on the right, the girls. The school I attended, as did my father and my grandmother before me, has long since been torn down. When the schools were closed in the 1960s and ’70s, they were sold off to individuals and many of them were transformed into homes, a few into businesses.

Author: Jim Hagarty

I am a 72-year-old retired journalist, busy recovering from a lifelong career as an unretired journalist. This year marks a half century of my scratching out little fables about life. My interests include genealogy, humour and music. I live in a little blue shack in Canada and spend most of my time trying to stay out of trouble. I am not that good at it. I also spent years teaching journalism. Poor state of journalism today: My fault. I have a family I don't deserve, a dog that adores me, and two cars the junk yard refuses to accept. My prized possessions include my old guitar and a razor my Dad gave me when I was 14 and which I still use when I bother to shave. Oh, and my great-great-grandfather's blackthorn stick he brought from Ireland in the 1850s. I have only one opinion but it is a good one: People take too many showers.