A Tribute to Ozella Sims Cantrell
(October 31, 1905 to April 17, 2000)
By Don Harold Lawrence
I met Mrs. Ozella Sims Cantrell when my mother (Ann Wood Lawrence) registered me for first grade at North Main Elementary School in Milan, Tennessee in August, 1949. The school was built in 1946, and its name was changed to K.D. McKellar Elementary School during the 1952-53 school year in honor of U.S. Senator K.D. McKellar who helped bring federal funds to Milan after World War II.
I immediately felt loved by Mrs. Cantrell. I shall never forget how she got down on her knees, smiled at me with a warm, loving smile, opened her arms, and said, “Don Harold, I’m Mrs. Cantrell, and I’m going to be your teacher this year. Come here and let me give you a big hug.” From that point on I felt safe, secure, and happy in her presence. I have often told people that she was like a grandmother to me and the rest of the students in her class. We all knew that she loved us, and we loved her.
On the first day of school (Monday, August 29th) she had us sitting on a rug in little chairs that formed a circle, and we introduced ourselves to each other. I recall how Jimmy Talbot was sitting to my left and Jimmy Johnson to my right.
I shall never forget the moment when she handed me my new textbooks and I opened them for the first time and began to browse through them. I remember pulling each book close to my face so I could smell the unmistakable odor that comes from inside a new book.
Our classroom was the last room on the left at the end of the hall. In the front of the room, behind the teacher’s desk, there was a cloak room that had a cubbyholes and coat hooks for each of us.
Mrs. Cantrell began each school day by reading ten verses from the Bible and having a prayer, and then we all stood at attention with our right hand over our heart and said the Pledge of Allegiance to our nation’s flag.
She had alphabet cards over the blackboard and cards with numbers on the side of the black board, and one of the first things she taught us was our ABC’s and simple arithmetic. I remember how excited I was when she began teaching us how to write upper and lower case letters of the alphabet with large pencils in writing tablets designed for beginners. Each morning she would have us sit in the circle and read out loud, thereby putting into practice what we were learning about words and reading.
When we were not sitting in the chairs in a circle, we sat at tables instead of desks. She believed that each of her students should have enough room to do their work.
Each morning we had a recess period, and—weather permitting—we would go out on the playground where we would climb on the monkey bars, go down the slide, ride the merry-go-round, and swing. We would get in the swings, pump as hard as we could so that we could go as high as possible, and then bail out screaming, “Geranimo” or “Bombs Away” in our flight back to earth. We played group games like Red Rover and Drop the Handkerchief. So many scenes of our fun times on the playground come back to mind.
When Mrs. Cantrell took us to and from the playground, cafeteria, auditorium, or restroom, she would always hold up her right hand and say, “OK boys and girls, everyone get into line, follow me, and let’s walk slowly and quietly down the hall.” We would follow her in single-file.
We all looked forward to the delicious meals that Mrs. Ruth Thompson (the school dietician) and her kitchen staff prepared for us each day. By mid-morning we could smell the cooking odors coming from the cafeteria (located next to the auditorium), and we could hardly wait to go to lunch. Each day Mrs. Cantrell would call on a volunteer to say the blessing in our room before we went to lunch, and, since we were in first grade, our class went to lunch first. One of my favorite meals was a combination of vegetable soup, pimento-and-cheese sandwich, peanut butter on a slice of banana, an orange, and milk.
After lunch we had quiet time during which we put our heads down and took a nap on pallets that were covered with heavy blue quilts. When we were not using the quilts they were stored in the cloak room.
Each afternoon Mrs. Cantrell had storytime during which she would read from one of the children’s classics such as Tom Sawyer, Huckleberry Finn, Tales from Uncle Remus, Grimes Fairey Tales, autobiographies, poems or one of the children’s mysteries. This daily storytime helped to engender my lifelong interest in reading.
We had a rough winter during that school year with freezing temperature, snow, and ice, and I can remember making frequent trips to the window in our classroom and looking out at the snow-covered ground. At one point the snow was so deep—and the temperature so cold—that my dad (Donovan Holder Lawrence) had to walk from our home at 328 West Main Street to his office which was in the old City Hall Building because our 1937 Chevy refused to crank.
Another thing I remember about that cold winter was the recurring infections and earaches caused by diseased tonsils. At times the pain in my ears was so intense that I would cry myself to sleep. It was during that school year that Dr. H.P. Clemmer (who attended my birth on August 9, 1943) performed a tonsillectomy that relieved me of chronic ear infections and earaches. However, those childhood ear infections took their toll because they caused me to lose some of my hearing.
Mrs. Cantrell had an old wind-up record player on which she would play a recording of High Stepping Horses and have us march around the room to the tempo of the music. She would have us to sing and learn new songs, and this instilled in me a life-long appreciation for music. Another one of my favorite recordings she played quite often was a story entitled Sparky’s Magic Piano.
About fifteen minutes before the bell rang at the close of each school day, she would appoint two students to take the blackboard erasers outside and beat the chalk dust out of them. Meanwhile, two other students would clean the blackboad and get it ready for the next day.
I was always fascinated with magicians and other entertainers who periodically presented programs in the auditorium for the students, and, on rare occasions, we would see a movie in the darkened auditorium.
Mrs. Cantrell worked very hard to make Christmas special for each of us that year. She read the Christmas story from the Bible, and had us sing traditional Christmas carols and make ornaments for the Christmas tree in our room. When we removed these ornaments from the tree we took them home with us for Christmas. We were so excited as we exchanged presents. I remember putting a special gift for Mrs. Cantrell under that tree, and as she opened each of our gifts, she would hug us and tell us how much she appreciated it. She put a gift under the tree for each of us. On the last day of school before we began Christmas vacation, all the students and teachers road busses to the Ritz Theater in downtown Milan to see the classic Christmas movie, Miracle on 34th Street, which has been a favorite movie that my wife, Emily, and I enjoy watching each holiday season. I was so excited about all the Christmas activities that I could hardly wait to get home and tell Dad and Mother about all the things that had happened at school.
In my scrapbook I have a copy of a few pages from Mrs. Cantrell’s teacher’s roll and attendance book in which she recorded the name of each student in the class. The boys: Devon Allen, Eric Bandurski, David Davenport, Grant Higgins, William “Rickey” Lane, Don Harold Lawrence, Jimmy Mathis, Drew Reid, Mike Rorick, Jimmy Talbott, David Wyont, Johnny Zeriot, Jimmy Johnson, and Andy Petty. The girls: Joan Barrow, Rita Cooper, Patty Ann Hutchinson, Charlotte Hudspeth, Jean Ann Lee, Dona Sue Mathis, Rebecca Mallard, Helen Norvall, Josephine Pickins, Ann Stout, Linda Wilson, and Joan Durham. I would deeply appreciate hearing from any of these persons and any memories they have of Mrs. Cantrell and other students in our class during the 1949-50 school year.
The photographer took pictures of the faculty and students during that school year. I still have my school photo from that year, and I regret that someone did not take a group picture of our class. If I had known then what I know now, I would have asked my mother to come to the school and take a picture of the class. If anyone who was in that class has any group pictures, please contact me. I will be more than happy to pay for reproductions.
Mr. J.P. Bradberry was the principal during my first and second grades (1949-1951). He was always neatly dressed with coat and tie. He was a quiet and gentle person who encouraged the students and teachers. I remember his pleasant smile and easy-going manner. He related well to the teachers and staff. Upon leaving North Main Elementary School, he was transferred to Park Avenue Elementary School in Milan. His wife, Pauline, taught piano in the schools.
Mr. Clyde Cates succeeded Mr. Bradberry, and he served as principal at K.D. McKellar Elementary School from 1951 to 1970. He dedicated his time and talents to quality education for all students. His daughter, Linda, was younger than I.
During first grade, Mrs. Annie Lou Chandler was our music teacher. She would take us to the auditorium and teach us a wide variety of songs that ranged all the way from patriotic songs to Stephen Foster classics. She had such a pleasant disposition, and she cultivated within me an appreciation for all types of music.
Other teachers I remember who taught at North Main Elementary School during that period of time were: Nancy Fields, Lurla B. Keith, Necie Parr, Morie Zietts, Karen Hoback, Mary Cole, Irene Crider, Margaret MacDonald, and Mrs. Grover Keaton.
The school janitor was Mr. Parish. I cannot remember his first name, but I do recall that he and his wife lived in a small dwelling on the school campus. He was a slender person who quietly went about his daily work of cleaning the school, and I can still see him pushing that old wide mop up and down the hallway after school hours. I still remember the odor of that oil mop, and to this day, whenever I walk into a school or building where someone has been pushing a mop over the floors, the odor immediately awakens memories of Mr. Parish and his mop. He was dressed in gray work pants, shirt, and cap most of the time. I recall how he would nod and speak quietly as he passed us in the hall. Somewhere, sometime, someone ought to erect a monument to school janitors. Even as a first-grader I thought about the exhausting, thankless, and never-ending job of cleaning the school every day.
Across the years I always enjoyed revisiting the school building after the students had gone home for the day. I would ask the principal for permission to visit the old classrooms where I spent those grammar school years. I would sit in my first grade room and reflect on many of the things that happened in the long-ago. Sitting quietly in that room and “turning back the hands of time” always gave me a chance to take a special trip “down memory lane.” Suddenly, I could see Mrs. Cantrell and my classmates with whom I shared that year, and then I knew what they mean by the term “precious memories.” I could hear their excited voices, shouts, and laughter, and I could hear her talking about one of our lessons or reading a passage from one of the books she enjoyed sharing with us.
One of my favorite places on the campus was the flagpole. Many afternoons after the students had left the campus, I would sit by the flagpole, relax, and reflect on things that were going on in my life. Many times across the years, when I was back in Milan, and no one was at the school, I would sit by the flagpole and recall many of those grammar school experiences. In the solitude and quietness of those moments, I found it easy to pray and reflect.
I still have the little Promotion Card that states that I have been promoted from first to second grade, and it is signed by Mrs. Cantrell and dated May 12, 1950. Thus ended one of the most important periods of my life. One’s initial experience in any endeavor creates a lasting impression, and I realize now more than ever just how important those positive experiences were during those special days with Mrs. Cantrell.
Across the years I kept in touch with Mrs. Cantrell, and I treasure every letter I received from her, every telephone conversation we had, and every visit that gave us a chance to sit down and talk with each other.
Ozella Sims Cantrell was one of twelve children born to Dora Tyner Sims and James Sims of Decatur County, Tennessee. She graduated from Decatur County High School, earned her B.S. Degree from Bethel College in McKenzie, Tennessee and her Master’s Degree from Memphis State University. She taught for 42 years in Decatur County, Tennessee, North Main Elementary School and K.D. McKellar Elementary School in Milan, Tennessee, and Blossomwood Elementary School in Huntsville, Alabama. She moved from Milan, Tennessee to Huntsville, Alabama in 1957. She was married to Bernard E. Cantrell who died November 4, 1962. She was a member of First United Methodist Church in Huntsville, Alabama and the Huntsville-Madison County Retired Teachers Association. In addition to her daughter, Annelle Cantrell Craig, Mrs. Ozella is survived by her granddaughters, Amy Delyane Craig and Josie Leigh Craig, and a number of nieces and nephews.
Mrs. Cantrell died on Monday, April 17, 2000, and her funeral was conducted at 11 A.M. on Wednesday, April 19th at First Christian Church in Huntsville, Alabama with Dr. Harold Dowler officiating. On Thursday, April 20th, at Annelle’s request, I had the honor of conducting another funeral service for Mrs. Cantrell at Parsons Funeral Home in Parsons, Tennessee and the interment service in the Mt. Carmel Cemetery near Decaturville, Tennessee. This was one of the highest honors in my life.
As I was walking away from her grave that day, an elderly gentleman approached me and said, “When I came home after the war, that dear lady taught me to read and write. I can’t begin to tell you how much I appreciate what she did for me.” His special tribute seemed so appropriate on that occasion for one who had given her life in an effort to help people move through that door which opens into a greater world where the horizons of life are continually expanding. Many times when I am writing or reading, I reflect back to those special days in first grade when Mrs. Cantrell was teaching me how to read and write, and I think about how much I owe her. She gave me priceless gifts—the kind of gifts “money cannot buy.”
I have thanked God countless times for the golden opportunity I had to know her as a wonderful teacher and person. I have often thought of how, when she was born on October 31, 1905, God gave the world a special angel through whom He would bless the lives of many, and on April 17, 2000 when she had completed her earthly days, He opened wide His arms to her, just as she had opened wide her arms to me at the beginning of my first grade, and He smiled and said to her, “Welcome home, my dear child, Ozella. You have been a blessing to many, and you have fulfilled the great purpose for which I created you. Well done, my good and faithful servant. Enter now into the joy I have prepared for you for all eternity.” (DHL, January 9, 2006)