Miss LaRamie

Miss LaRamie was our teacher. She taught grades one through seven in the little schoolhouse. The little schoolhouse was located in the village of Amesdale. The population would have be perhaps fifty people, including Miss LaRamie. The storekeeper and postmaster was an Ames, and half the student body went by the name Ames.

The school itself was very basic by today’s standards, no electrical power, and no running water. A large wood and coal heater supplied the necessary heat. Two wooden outhouses severed the student body, that being about fifteen kids.

Miss LaRamie was a very interesting teacher, of perhaps forty years of age. Subject to migraine headaches, she would suffer tremendously with them. More than once we would walk the four miles to school only to discover that there would be no school that day, as Miss LaRamie was having a migraine attack. There are many stories that could be told about Miss LaRamie and thee little one roomed schoolhouse, but I’m only going to tell you one today. Learning under the guidance of Miss LaRamie was almost always interesting, and this day was to be no exception. It was in fact going to be a red-letter day, one that would live on in the memories of her students for decades to come.

The day was a Monday. I know this because there was a dance on Saturday night and we had to drag the desks back into position. At first everything seemed to be going along as usual, but then things started to change just a bit. Miss LaRamie began to become more assertive, and then it was noticed by the older kids at least, that Miss LaRamie was really not herself. You see Miss LaRamie had been drinking. It seemed that she had come across a bottle of wine in the cloak room. This explained her frequent trips there. As the morning wore on, and Miss LaRamie slipped under the influence more and more, I think she decided to settle a few outstanding items. First and foremost of these items was kid by the name of Norman Ames, and the fact that a poetry assignment was very, very overdue.

Now every kid in the school from grade one up knew the poem, and could recite it as will, except Norman! Now Norman was one of the older kids; he was in grade seven I think, and he was not stupid, he just did not like poetry. When Miss LaRamie called upon Norman he as instructed stood up beside his desk, then despite prompting from every kid in every grade in the school could not get more than a few hauling words out.

COME UP HERE!!! Commanded Miss LaRamie, reaching into her desk drawer for the strap. For a long moment Norman just stood there, considering his options. He them stepped forward and extended his hand, prepared to receive his punishment. Clutching the strap firmly, the teacher raised her hand high to execute the punishment. As the arm descended with full force and just as leather was about to meet flesh, Norman pulled his hand back and the strap bit into the teacher’s thigh. Norman bolted for the door. Miss LaRamie uttered these words. GET HIM Jerry! At her command Jerry sprang to his feet. Maybe I should tell you a few things about Jerry. At fifteen years of age and six feet tall, he was by and far the biggest kid in school. The fact that he was fifteen in a school that went to grade seven will tell other things about him as well.

Norman was just going through the door, when Jerry started to move, and move quickly. We kids ran to the window to watch the action. Outside the door was a landing and six steps leading down to a rather large mud puddle. When I peered out the window I could see Norman running down the steps, he was almost to the bottom, when Jerry appeared at the top step. Almost instantly he launched himself, booted feet first. He struck Norman right-square in the middle of his back, driving him down face first into the mud puddle. Upon hearing our collective gasp, Miss LaRamie looked out the window, and almost fainted.

Norman was lying face down in the puddle, not moving an inch, while Jerry stood beside him awaiting further orders, on can only think. Miss LaRamie rushed out. In the end Norman had only had the wind knocked out of him. And we all got the rest of the day off.

Written by Terry Houston, a student 1951-52

……………………………………………………………………………………………………

Mrs. C. LaRamie taught from 1949 to 1952. She was replaced by Mrs. Olive Ames Lynch in the fall of 1952.