When I was a little girl in the 1950s, I went to Byram School in Greenwich. It had kindergarten through eighth grade, and the older children were taught to be protective of the younger ones on the playground.
In my mind’s eye, I see the jungle gym where I only climbed on the lower bars, the green wooden seesaws, the baseball and hockey fields, and the gigantic black rock that four or five children could stand on at the same time. Everyone said that this rock had been left there when the glaciers melted. There were also young trees with bronze markers in front of them with the names of those Byram School graduates who had died in World War II.
I especially remember that not only did we walk to and from school, but we also walked home for lunch and returned back—lots of walking!
Only a few of the moms worked outside the home then, so most were available to make our lunches. I remember meatloaf sandwiches on white bread with lettuce and tomato, peanut butter with jelly or marshmallow fluff, tuna fish, and grilled cheese with tomato soup. Sometimes my mother made homemade pea soup, which I didn’t like too much. So, she would cut up hot dogs in it to get me to eat it! There was also a large glass of milk with Bosco and fruit cocktail and cookies for dessert.
To get to and from school we had to cross the heavily travelled Old Post Road (Route 1). So, we had a policeman to cross us. I felt so safe when he stopped the cars by holding up his white gloved hand.
On Mondays after school, we would walk to catechism at the Roman Catholic church, and on Fridays in Lent to Stations of the Cross. Since I was coming home a different way, my mother would come to meet me to cross the Old Post Road. Yes, we did a lot of walking, but we never thought twice about it —except maybe on rainy days when we wished we had a ride!
Bernadette R. Gentry