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.
