Home

Information

History

Classmates and Teachers

   Baccalaureate and Commencement Programs 

Yearbooks   

Reunion 2010

Reunions

Photos

Alma Mater

Eulogy

Guest Book

Memories

Tributes

Contact

Subscribe to 
Email List

Personal Reflections

 

June, 2005 (150 years, Sesquicentennial Celebration)

 

By Joseph J. Trulick, Jr., Worthington, Pa. (Class of 1960)

  "hail to thee our school so dear and life to all our comrades here. Worthington-West Franklin High, we'd praise thy name as years go by." These are not the writer's words. They may be those of Elmira LaSitis, a teacher at Worthington High School, and a dedicated one, or the words of a student unknown. If I could give credit I would.

 Worthington High School existed as an entity for about fifty years, a small, rural school typical of many that dotted this land from the early 20th century until consolidation became the byword in educational circles along about the late 1950's. Worthington probably held out longer than most but the handwriting (probably the Peterson Writing System) was on the wall. Bigger is better.

 At one point there was an opportunity to merge with the Butler school system. A committee even visited the school. But when one of the members asked where the swimming pool was, that opportunity came crashing down. So, for better or worse, Worthington High School became part of the Armstrong School District, a collection of seven individual schools districts covering 525 square miles. It was one of the largest in area in the Commonwealth and brought with it some of the largest problems. Not the least of which was just getting students transported to the school house.

 Many times this writer has asked if we weren't better off as Worthington High School by itself. Mostly I believe, these folks already have their opinion and are seeking to have someone validate that "yes we would have been better off." Asking that question is like asking would one have been better off if one had never married. There is no correct answer. In attempting to respond to that question, I always say our students certainly had more and greater opportunities in a larger school. I know that for a fact because I was there to observe them. But the other side of that coin is that in a small setting there are more personal relationships, more intimacy. I spent thirty two years, or about one half my life at Worthington High School either as a student or teacher. Going to that building was like going home. Saying good morning to Gloria Hillberry (class of 1950, and the school secretary), was like saying good morning to a family member. We shared sorrows when students lost their lives in a vehicle accident and when one of our faculty was tragically killed. We suffered through winter weather, flu outbreaks, and something very foreign to Worthington high School, a teacher's strike. But we shared it all as a family, a community. There were bitter feelings sometimes as there are in families but there were also wonderful feelings of Friday night dances (with Mr. Thomas "Bud" Shankle, keeping a close watch over us), proms, graduations, yearbooks and yes, sometimes even teenage romances that blossomed into marriages and families, and more students.

 Our extended family has produced its share of successes, professionals, skilled technicians, business men and women, hardworking citizens in who we can take great pride. This all came about because of families who care, first and second grade teachers who taught us how to read, fourth and fifth grade teachers who drilled us in multiplication tables, and English teachers who taught me enough to be able to write these words. Those of us who attended Worthington High School would have learned this all in any school. I just consider myself fortunate to have had the opportunity to learn it here.

 After graduating in 1960 from WWFHS and then Indiana State Teachers College, Joe returned to his home town to teach at his Alma Mater.

 

Remembering Worthington after 49-years and anticipating the School Reunion

 By BARBARA NICHOL HOLLINGER, Calabash,NC. (CLASS of ‘59)

   Forty-six years ago, 28 teenagers walked across the stage at Worthington-West Franklin High School to receive validation of that traditional American rite of passage --- high school graduation. Forty-six years later, I have wondered how many classmates dropped their illusions and followed through with reality.

   Looking back, it is hard to believe that I survived adolescence. When I was in high school, knowledge and learning were not at the top of my priority list. Whether awake or asleep, friends, school plays, basketball, cheerleading, music and cruising at the Cadet were the only thoughts that occupied my mind. Sometimes I wonder how I escaped and graduated from high school. Now, a 46-year reunion looms for my class of ’59 and a span of 54 years for those who attended school in Worthington from 1933 – 1984.

   Many of our parents never attended school past the eighth grade because there wasn’t a high school in Worthington for them to attend. The student body was made up of children of farmers, sewer clay laborers, ceramic clay laborers, limestone miners, cement plant workers, coal miners, shop laborers, grocery store workers, mechanics, salesmen, teachers, and entrepreneurs. We were all ordinary kids and uniformity prevailed. Economically, I recall little difference.

   It is hard to imagine now, but in 1959, Worthington was only a rural community surrounded by thriving dairy, beef and turkey farms. Everyone attended the church of their choice in or near Worthington. Families married relatives of other families until everyone seemed to be all related in one way or another. We weren’t of course all related, but it seemed that way.

   The closest real shopping was seven miles to Kittanning or fourteen miles to downtown Butler prior to when Route 422 was a four lane highway. In the early 60s, through the use of the new four lane highway, shopping and traveling became much easier. Supermarkets and businesses were on the verge of moving toward Worthington. In Worthington, there were three small grocery stores. We had the Reed's Hardware Store, Harry Bowser’s Feed Store, several barber shops, several gasoline stations and back alley mechanic's garages. We had our own volunteer Fire Company, King Bowser as our police officer, Frank Walker our mortician, Dr. Long as chiropractor and Dr. Schaffer as our medical doctor. The closest hospitals were in downtown Kittanning or Butler . There were a lot of storm water drainage ditches, on-lot septic systems, and overgrown lawns, and I think most everyone had a vegetable garden planted in their back yard.

   The kids would shoot hoops behind the feed store, play touch football on the church lawns, pick-up a game of softball at the high school ball field, hang around the school playground, and play kick-the-can, hide-and-seek or softball in a neighbor’s yard. We road our bikes and roller skated all over town. You couldn’t get into any trouble because everyone knew you. In the winter, everyone had a sled and we would gather at the top of Property Hollow Hill and sled ride until after dark. We froze, but we didn’t know enough to go home because we were having so much fun. We didn’t have the fancy warm clothing and paraphernalia that the kids today have for skiing, snowmobiling or 4-wheeling.

   Sometime in the past 46 years since I moved from Worthington, most of the farms and the small working plants have dwindled or left completely. Gone also are some of the citadels of my youth such as: Henry’s Grocery Store, Bish’s Grocery and Gas Station, Holben’s Store and Soda Fountain (now Long's), Walt Pence’s small Grocery Store across from the newer Post Office where I would stop for candy on my way home from school. Kelly Long and Chester Neal’s Mobile Gas Station, Lewis’s TV Repair and the Clay Yards and Aluminum Ladder Factory. The old Post Office on West Main Street across from Steffy’s Barbershop, Steffy’s Barbershop formerly Peggy Leard’s Barbershop, Lewis’s Barbershop, Thompson’s Barbershop, Benton’s Beauty Shop, Zelda Claypoole’s Beauty Shop, and Velma Robinson’s Beauty Shop.

    Also gone are my grandparents, Albert and Bessie Shearer and the Shearer homestead that was located on the Slate Lick Road and Yellow Dog Road, one mile south of town. My grandparents sold raw milk before and after they had an electric milking system installed around 1948. My grandmother had a regular clientele every week that came for eggs, bread and home made butter. They also sold home grown sweet corn in the summer and apple butter in the fall. My parents are gone too, Omer and Ethel Nichol who resided at the top of Cherry Street hill where I grew up. Many people may still remember my father for his carpentry skills and woodwork tinkering after he retired. Every summer he would sell dog houses and picnic tables that he had built through the winter in the basement of their home.

  Among all the losses is the student body at the Worthington-West Franklin High School because the school closed in 1984. Since the school closed, the students have been bused to West Hills Elementary School and Kittanning High School. Our small town lost the school spirit, enthusiasm, liveliness, delight and enjoyment that come with having children educated in a hometown school. New families have moved into our rural community and the old high school is being used for yet another good cause. The building has been converted into a Senior Civic Center, Community Library and a Credit Union office.

    In this building that was once full of untamed energy, I learned English, Math, Spelling, History, Geography, Biology, Science, Business, Music and Art. On these grounds, I made lifelong friends. I grew from a timid self-conscious seventh-grader to a brash and confident senior. A room in the building close to the gym was home to my favorite teacher, Paul Kiel. Mr. Kiel diligently tried to instill in us an appreciation for the English language, English Literature and Ancient History. Another of my favorite teachers was John Ollinger. He taught me the appreciation of abstract art; however, I have used it as a hobby in landscaping instead of painting. I guess you could call landscaping abstract – in an abstract kind of way. At Worthington-West Franklin High School , I experienced some of the best times of my life.

   In the near future, a large group of adults who formerly attended the Worthington-West Franklin High School, who once knew one another as teens, will gather to reminisce about the past. At the Reunion, my thoughts will drift to the sights, sounds, and odors of yesterday. The smell of the old locker rooms next to the cafeteria, the gymnasium, and the chemicals used to clean the wood floors and the smell of lunch that flowed up the steps from the cafeteria. The excitement at the basketball games and the fun we had at the harvest parades, dances and proms. I will remember those times in early spring when the morning air was fresh, school was about completed for another school year, summer beckoned and responsibilities were nonexistent. I will enjoy every moment living in the past for a few days with my former Worthington-West Franklin High School Classmates.