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A little red schoolhouse
By DONNA WINCHESTER, Times Staff Writer
Hyman Cain, 86, who attended the school when it opened in 1927, shared what it was like growing up at the Masonic Home adjacent to the property at 3500 Oak St. NE. Resting on an aluminum cane, he recalled crossing a footbridge over a drainage ditch that separated the 103-room home from the "Coffee Pot School." Named for Coffee Pot Bayou to the south of the property, the red brick building was built by the school district for the children who lived at the home. Cain's biggest challenge in those days, he said, was following in the footsteps of his older brother, who was "a genius." Joseph Alexander, 77, who came to the school in the early 1930s, recalled that a case of pneumonia caused him to miss first grade. He credited the Coffee Pot teachers for getting him up to speed. "They were the very best that were around, and they put their hearts into it," he said. "We didn't realize until later years how good (the school) was." He recalled principal Julie Dieffenwierth ringing a hand bell to summon the children to class. Back in the days when principals also were teachers, he remembers her as a strict educator, but one who "would take kids other teachers would give up on." Life was still simple when Olive Likely arrived as a young teacher in 1952. She remembers when the cafeteria and primary wing were added to the school after it had been renamed North Shore Elementary and the year she accompanied the students who were bused to Lakewood Elementary while the new classrooms were under construction. "We sang on the bus at the top of our lungs," she recalled. "We sang every song you can think of. People got to know when we were going by and came out and waved."
Hardy Bryan, who attended North Shore in the early 1950s, remembers Mrs. Likely as one of the school's best-loved teachers. He said that educators like her and principal Vera Fogarty gave him the tools that helped him graduate in the upper quarter of his class at Florida State University. In 1983, when one of his four daughters entered North Shore, he said he was proud to escort her to the same classroom he occupied as a student. Bill Miller, who attended North Shore from 1950 until 1956, said his teachers were like family, but pointed out a disadvantage. "If you got in trouble here, you were in trouble at home in a heartbeat," he said. His memories include gathering with his classmates at the footbridge and wondering if, as local legend claimed, trolls lived underneath it. Betsy Valentine Critz, who also attended North Shore in the 1950s with her sister, Caroline Valentine Nail, didn't remember the troll legend, but is convinced an alligator lived in the ditch. Mrs. Critz and Mrs. Nail are part of a four-generation tradition that began with their mother, Betty Valentine, who worked at North Shore for 30 years as a secretary-bookkeeper. Mrs. Critz' daughter, Lisa, and her son, John, were students at North Shore in the 1970s. Last year, her granddaughter, Miranda, attended kindergarten at the school. Carol Russell, who graduated from North Shore in 1969, recounted "sweet memories" of a teacher who told her she was creative and of another teacher who convinced her that wearing glasses could be neat. She pointed to a brown-haired child in her fourth-grade class photograph whom she said was her best friend, and remains her best friend today. Candy Lenderman, who taught at North Shore from 1966 until 1982, remembers principal Lorraine Meister's reprimands to teachers who wore their skirts too short. She also remembers the turbulent years of teacher strikes, desegregation and the Vietnam War. Throughout it all, she said, a family atmosphere surrounded North Shore. "It's always had a very genuine family feeling," she said. "I think that's what makes a community school so special."
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