The “55” Dispute
Copyright2007 James R. von Feldt
All rights reserved
Just got back from Wal-Mart. It’s a trip to Ottumwa but worth the effort. Jeffry Allen, Hank Russo, his wife Evelyn and I took off in the old Ford. We split the cost of gas. Takes about 4 gallons of gas to get there and back if I’m careful and don’t speed. Don’t take me wrong, we’re all grateful to have the Grocery Store in Bloomfield 8 miles away, but after all, the produce looks like it was a month old when they got it.
On the way to Ottumwa Hank brought up the old school issue again. I swear, I don’t think it will ever die out. It seems like some people just have a bur under their saddle about that. Hank graduated from our school in 53 and was dead set against consolidating all the little county schools into one big one in Bloomfield. He started to vent but Evelyn quieted him down.
There are some people in town that still won’t speak to each other over the issue. They just avoid talking about it. It’s a small community; we still have to live together.
Now what I heard from several sources is that it all seemed to get started when the lawyer Edmond Frick ran for a position on the board of education in 54. He had lost a run for county attorney by just a few votes and he was sore about that. It seems he had a lot of contenders for the Board of Education seat so he thought up a great theme to set himself apart.
If elected, Frick said, he was going to consolidate all the schools in the county to make the Bloomfield school the largest and, so he said, the best. He emphasized “THE BEST” a lot.
Now you can imagine how that went down across the county. It riled up everybody. He was proposing to take their schools away from them and, according to Keith at the sales barn, pointed out there was a lot of political rivalry, even jealousy between the small towns and Bloomfield.
Now as you know, Bloomfield is the county seat. It has the famous county court house, two rail lines in those days, and three lawyers. The county people are farm people. Their little towns are simple and functional. They felt that if you lived in Bloomfield you were a bit uppity. To add to the fire of argument, it also turned out that Bloomfield had the worst basketball team in the county. “So there”, one un-named source put it.
But, in those days, Bloomfield did have the largest town population and were able to elect many of the county positions; the most powerful being the County Supervisor who could determine when you got the snow cleared off your roads during the winter.
Besides that, even though the railroads were in the process of dying they were an economic life-line and Bloomfield had two running through town. The intersection of the two was important to the whole county as, eggs, milk, cattle, grain etc. were shipped to the big cities North and South, East and West. Also, if you wanted to travel you could go to Chicago, Omaha, Denver or Kansas City for just a few dollars.
So, it seems that lawyer Frick hatched the idea and then the electioneering blew everything out of sight. Articles in the paper for and against the idea were written. Letters to the editor swamped the local paper. Other small newspapers picked up the story and added their comments and opinions. The state officials in Des Moines became aware of what was going on and made public comments which were read by everybody.
Well, Ed Frick lost the election to Emma Gates who was against the idea but that didn’t end the issue and as it turned out after all, the Board of Education didn’t have authority to consolidate anything. But that didn’t seem to bother anyone, especially lawyer Frick, who discovered that the crisis he created brought him new clients. So, he hired a legal assistant and kept milking the idea.
According to Clara Moss across the road, Frick became more outrageous after the election, claiming the county schools were below educational standards. “He was calling our kids stupid” she said. Those were fighting words and there were fights.
Lacy, over at the bank, told me her dad said that Ed Frick and Ollie Olson had it out on the lawn in front of the court house. I went to the Local paper office to see if this was true. Netty, the secretary found a story printed about that time. I quote:
“Confrontations on the front steps of the court house occurred between Lawyer Frick and Ollie Olson. Harsh, loud words were spoken, fisticuffs were reported”.
Amos Miller told me how the state got involved. He said Jack Latham the Lieutenant Governor was Ed Frick’s fraternity brother-in-law school at Drake University. Latham was the one that got the ball rolling at the state level.
When I asked Cousin Cliff at his insurance office why the state wanted to get involved, he said the state had been planning to get rid of the one room schools for a long time but it was a political hot potato. In those days the counties did it all: built the buildings, paid the teachers, etc. All the state did was send a supervisor to check up occasionally.
A State committee was formed to study the idea and Ed Frick was chairman. The county Board of Supervisors was discovered to have the authority to put the proposal on a ballot. Calls started pressuring for support to put the idea to a vote.
Clifford clammed up from that point on. I tried to get more out of him but he wouldn’t budge.
Finally, he said “Go talk to Cousin Billy. He was good friends with Ken Kline. Kline was County Supervisor then”. Billy was supervisor once.
About a week later I ran into Billy and Jeannie at the South Fork dinner. I knew they liked the Fish Fry on Friday nights. It took some prying but after dinner and at his house Billy told me more details.
It went like this: The state promised everything; money for the new building, teachers, new courses even the bussing of all the students, but it was still a stalemate. Nobody was giving in. Then, the State pulled a swiftee. They commissioned a team of engineers to evaluate the safety of every school building in the county. You know how that is. Every town built to its own standards and you had every conceivable building you can imagine. They were old firetraps. None passed inspection. All were deemed Extreme Fire Hazards and unfit for use, even the school in Bloomfield. All the schools in the county were closed.
At the same time articles were published in Des Moines to the effect that the state would fund the new modern school and Bloomfield would be the leader in the state. Teachers pay would be raised, chemistry labs and modern classrooms would be built. The kids would be the smartest ever… that was the promise. Something for nothing, he said. They bought off on the promise of a free lunch.
This was getting to be a great story however; I was totally flabbergasted to find that when I told my story to Jeremy at the Gas & Grill he didn’t agree at all. His story was a lot different but the end results were the same. The election came and the new centralized school idea was approved by a few votes.
So, that’s the story about the 55 school issue -- at least, as to how I tell it. And if you think that’s quite a story you ought to hear the one of how the Amish and Mennonites got the right to break away from sending their kids to public school.
Rumor has it happened right here in Iowa. In fact, right over in the next county. Tell you about that later.
One last thing, next time you come visit we can walk down to the old school building here in town and you can see timbers propped against the school wall, as if to hold it up. It was a brand-new addition at the time. The timbers were put up as a protest by the town folk. I’ll bet Hank was one of them that did it.
Take care. Don’t forget to write
Lotsa love
Grampa jim
