Laytonsville: From Crossroads to Community, P. O. Box 5158, Laytonsville, MD (2026)

Laytonsville: From Crossroads to Community, a history of the Laytonsville, Maryland area and community is available for purchase at the Laytonsville Town Hall and though mail. With this third version, Anne Wolf and Jane Evans have gone more deeply into the history of the area, the development of the town and the larger community, and the life stories of some ordinary people there who made a difference. The book is 120 pages, full color, and 8.5" x 11".

09/15/2026

NINA CLARKE: “THE CHILDREN GOT ALONG ALRIGHT, IT WAS THE ADULTS WHO CREATED THE PROBLEMS.”

By Thomas O’Toole

When the 1965-1966 school year began, integration in Montgomery County had been fully implemented for five years. But what sixth-grader Stephanie Lyons Mills, who is Black, encountered on the first day of classes was nonetheless unusual.

“I had Mr. (Ozie) Jackson, and he was the first male Black teacher I had ever seen in my life,” said Mills who started at Laytonsville in kindergarten. “He was the only Black teacher I remember at the school. I was one of about six Black kids in the whole class.”

Mills said that her experience with integration was largely uneventful. Her late brother Jimmy, who had started at Longview, was three years older and “was one of the first Black students who integrated,” Mills said. She said her mother has told her she was not aware of any problems Jimmy had with integration, and Mills said she did not really experience any of her own. She also had friends who were white.

“No one ever called me names that I recall,” she said. “There were times when I would just tune out (any negative talk). I was not that sensitive to stuff. My parents did not say that you have to be careful in that space.”

As part of a project on what it was like to attend Laytonsville Elementary from the mid-1950s to the mid-1960s, the Laytonsville Historical Center reached out to former students to talk about a variety of topics, including desegregation.

Mills said she thought it was important to mention Mr. Jackson because she realized she was never exposed to any other Black educators as a young student.

“The only other people of color were in supporting roles,” said Mills, who worked for the Montgomery Country Public Schools for nearly 32 years before retiring.

Nancy Welsh Greenan, who started kindergarten in the 1958-59 school year, had similar memories to Mills.

“I was treated very kindly as a person of color,” she said. “There weren't many of us there, maybe seven in the entire school. I liked going there. I had a great time. I was just like anybody else.”

But not everyone had a comfortable transition. Norman Morris, who still lives in the area, was among the seven Black students who were the first to integrate Laytonsville Elementary. He came for kindergarten in the 1956-57 school year and stayed through sixth grade.

He recalls difficult times, mainly how he was treated by white classmates.

“There was some ups and downs when I went there first,” he said. “People just weren't ready, but my parents had gone to meetings about what might happen to us. I understand. I didn't have a color barrier against anyone. I was taught that at home. My parents taught me not to hate.”

He remembers taunting and rough treatment in kindergarten and how at recess the white children would not play with the Black children. “We would play by ourselves,” he said.

Riding the bus was particularly difficult with older kids there. Some even wanted to fight him, and no one wanted to sit with him. He said he did not blame the children as much as the parents.

“It's what they were taught at home or listened to what (others) say,” he said. “You become what your parents are or what they teach you.

“People cannot imagine what it was like. I was taught that you don't start nothing, but you protect yourself. You cannot imagine what people went through. It was hard on a young person.”

Morris said the treatment at Laytonsville improved a little every year, though tense bus rides continued through junior high.

“I just overlooked it and thought, they're being the ones who are crazy. I'm not going to stoop down like that,” he said. “And some of the people who did stuff, I became great friends with. It was amazing. … Children can get along once they get together. But it was a learning experience to be able to cope with all kinds of people. … If people understand there's only one God, and we are all his children, we can get along.”

Morris said he thinks those first seven students were all in kindergarten, but he is not sure. A story in The Evening Star on Sept. 4, 1956, said seven Black children attended classes at Laytonsville “without incident.” The paper said Principal James Shumate had expected no trouble because of an earlier orientation with teachers and parents. But it did not say if the students were all kindergarteners.

Morris said his brother, who was older, was going to school at Longview in Gaithersburg and didn’t come to Laytonsville until a few years later.

Montgomery County was proactive

Not long after the Supreme Court ruled in 1954 that segregation in public schools was illegal, Montgomery County began planning for the transition. It would be another year before the Supreme Court would direct school systems to integrate with “all deliberate speed.” By then, Montgomery County was well ahead of most systems, debating various options and planning. According to the MCPS.org website, “Unlike other districts across the country, MCPS has never been under a court order to desegregate its schools. … MCPS voluntarily desegregated its schools.”

Support for the plans being discussed generally was divided between down-county, which included areas like Silver Spring, Wheaton and Rockville and up-county, which included Laytonsville, Damascus and Gaithersburg. According to newspaper reports, down-county residents favored almost immediate integration. Residents in the up-county area wanted a more gradual approach. Proposals ranged from a 12-year plan to a three-year plan to immediate implementation.

According to a story in the Baltimore Afro-American on March 12, 1955, Dr. P.L. Moore, principal of the combined educational and vocational Carver High School and Junior College in Rockville, said that most Black citizens lived in the upper part of the county, which the paper described as the “area where most of the tension over integration exists.” Integration began in the fall of 1955 for some down county schools, according to Montgomery History.

PTA makes a proposal

On May 8, 1956, the Laytonsville PTA sent a proposal to Superintendent Dr. Forbes H. Norris asking the county to “vary the timing” of integration because Laytonsville would be “one of the hardest hit” schools by transfers of black students if integration began there the following fall. The proposal also said:

“WHEREAS economic and other factors common to rural areas as served by Laytonsville school make it difficult to maintain an average achievement level, and

“WHEREAS Southern traditions and customs that have existed for many generations still prevail in the Laytonsville area and these customs are respected by both races, and

“WHEREAS interference with the prevailing local customs will cause emotional and psychological as well as educational damage to all the children in the school …”

The proposal did not explain “Southern traditions and customs” or offer evidence that they were “respected by both races.” It also did not define what it meant by “vary the timing” or specifically ask for a delay in implementation.

Dr. Norris replied in a letter he would “give it very serious consideration.” The first Black students enrolled the following fall. It’s possible one concession was made by the county. According to the book History of the Black Public Schools of Montgomery County, Maryland 1872-1961, Laytonsville originally was to receive 10 students in the first wave of integration. Instead, seven enrolled.

Nina Clarke, a former MCPS teacher and principal who co-wrote that book, told the Gazette newspaper in a story published in 2004, “We never had any violence in Montgomery County,” but she said some areas protested integration. Poolesville is cited as having the largest protests.

"The children got along alright, it was the adults who created the problems," Clarke, who was Black, told the Gazette. Clarke died in 2021 at age 103.

In addition to Mills, some other former Laytonsville students said they did not recall issues among the children. Lois Sell attended Laytonsville from the fall of 1952 through the spring of 1959.

“I remember two African-American girls, possibly in fifth grade,” she said. “Ruth Green was one of them. I became good friends with her. I was friends with both of them. My parents were very adamant that you treat everyone equally and be kind. I remember thinking over the years how that must have been hard for them to come into the classroom and see all those white faces. I don't remember any issues with it or any problems I know of.

“I think it was a very welcoming school for anyone being different, which my sister and I were. We were the only Mennonite girls at the school. We both had very good experiences.”

Roxanne Ivkovich Frank transferred into Laytonsville in 1964 from Harmony Hills Elementary in Silver Spring for fifth and sixth grades. She said she had never been in a class with Black students before coming to Laytonsville but doesn’t remember thinking it was unusual going to an integrated school. Instead, she “was more fascinated … (by) two girls in my fifth-grade class who were Mennonites. That was kind of exotic. They dressed very old-fashioned.”

Sell, who attended Laytonsville before Ivkovich arrived and whose father was a Mennonite minister, said no one ever called her "exotic," but she remembers one day a boy saying she “looked like a pilgrim.”

Limiting interaction

There was at least one area where the lines clearly were drawn between the white and Black students: when activities were done in pairs.

“I remember we were in phys ed and we had square dancing,” Mills said. “They made sure I was always paired with another Black kid. We could not be close with the white kids.”

Gwen Mayne Sandberg remembers a time when her desk was moved by her teacher to put her between two Black students.

“I was a very talkative child, maybe annoying in that way,” said Sandberg, who attended from the fall of 1961 till the spring of 1968. “One of the teachers, maybe first grade, in an effort to manage the classroom, moved me and sat me between the only two boys in the class who were African-American, I think in an effort to keep me quiet. It didn't work. It was supposed to be a discipline thing. I remember they were Thomas Claggett and Gary Prather. But I talked to them, and we became friends. I really enjoyed Thomas and Gary.”

Sandberg, known as Gwendy when she was at Laytonsville, grew up on a local farm and often interacted with African-Americans. For her, it was not unusual when integration came to the schools.

“I don’t think I even thought about (integration) that much,” she said. “I had positive relationships with people of color. … I did not sense any racial tension in elementary school.”

Sandberg, Mills and Frank started at Laytonsville several years after Morris began. As Morris said, he found it quite difficult at first but said treatment of Black students by others improved a bit each school year.

That doesn’t mean the change was easy or the improvement significant.

“Everybody was nervous,” Clarke told the Gazette in that 2004 story. “We had never had an integrated life. How were we going to make one school system out of two?"

Anne Burke Wolf and Jane Griffith Evans contributed to the reporting and editing of this story.

09/13/2026

HEARTBREAK

AND WE NEED SOME HELP ABOUT A TREE

By Thomas O’Toole

Former students who spoke to the Historical Center about what it was like attending Laytonsville Elementary from the mid-1950s to the mid-1960s mainly had fond or funny memories.

But there was also heartbreak.

On April 26, 1962, a Thursday, kindergartner David Sell drowned in a pond on a farm off Rt. 124. Gwen Mayne Sandberg, who also was in kindergarten then, can still recall her emotions.

“I definitely remember,” said Sandberg, who went to the afternoon class while David went in the morning. “It was devastating. It was your first experience with death if you hadn’t like lost a grandparent. Someone you know was gone.

“I don’t know why, but in my mind, it wasn’t just a boy died. I knew him.”

The Washington Evening Star reported that David had been with two other boys “in a small boat … when it started to sink.” They all jumped in the water, and David was clinging to the boat but then went under, according to Police Pvt. John Ligish. County medical examiner Dr. Frank J. Broschart ruled the death accidental.

The funeral was held on the following Sunday at the Goshen Mennonite Church on Brink Road, where David is buried. The Rev. Menno Sell, church pastor and David’s grandfather, officiated at the service along with relative Glen Sell, pastor of the Gaithersburg Mennonite church. The family asked that instead of flowers, donations be made to the Laytonsville District Volunteer Fire Department’s new ambulance fund. David’s father, Harlan, was a member of the fire department.

The Montgomery County Sentinel reported that “neighbors and friends of the Sell family served dinner in the Methodist Church” after the funeral. The paper also reported on May 10th that the Laytonsville Elementary PTA voted to dedicate a tree with a plaque in David’s memory. The dedication ceremony was held the following school year, June 7, 1963, during the annual Spring Festival, according to the program from the “Spring Festival and Bazaar.”

Toward the end of the day at the Festival, students and parents were told to gather in the front of the school to honor David. Menno Sell was the speaker.

In addition to honoring David, a dedication was held for the fire department’s new ambulance, which was purchased in part by contributions made for David’s funeral as the family had requested. It’s unclear what has happened to the tree or plaque dedicated to David.

Lois Sell, who attended Laytonsville Elementary from the fall of 1952 until the spring of 1959 and was David’s aunt, told the Historical Center she still recalls the reaction from others to that tragedy. “It was really how the school stepped up in acts of kindness,” she said. “It speaks to the character of the school. … There were many acts of kindness from the community and the school.”

Anne Burke Wolf and Jane Griffith Evans contributed to the reporting and editing.

09/11/2026

RICHARD T. NELL NEVER RAN SCARED!

ABOUT WHAT? READ ON.

By Thomas O’Toole

From 1958 until 1973, Richard T. Nell was principal of Laytonsville Elementary. Despite the demand of running the school, dealing with parents and answering to the county office, he occasionally found time to work in the classroom.

According to Roy Green, who spoke to the Laytonsville Historical Center for our project on students attending Laytonsville Elementary from the mid-1950s to the mid-1960s, Mr. Nell spent part of the year teaching U.S. history to the sixth-grade class in 1958-59.

“Mrs. Foster was our teacher, and she was out for about half the year – I don’t know what happened,” said Green. “The substitutes had a rough time from us. Mr. Nell decided he would teach us U.S. History. He must have thought we were not good students.”

Green recalled a project on the Revolutionary War assigned by Mr. Nell. He knew he was in trouble because he didn’t start his until the night before it was due. His younger brother Philip helped by doing the cover page. His mother, a kindergarten teacher at Laytonsville, “was mad” that he had waited so long to begin.

“I gave my mother a lot of gray hairs,” Green said.

According to Green, after Mr. Nell graded the projects, he called each student to his office to discuss them.

“Lois Sell was a straight-A student in everything,” said Green. “She came back and she’s crying at her desk, and I asked her what was wrong, and she said she got a C, and she never got a C in her life. I’m like, I’m going to fail this.”

Sell says she does not remember the report.

“The only thing that I can think of is that my father was a Mennonite minister,” she said. “The Mennonites are pacifists, and I wonder if I had a pacifist's viewpoint on it. I don't remember, so I can neither confirm nor deny Roy's story."

As for Green’s grade, he did not fail but came close. Mr. Nell gave him a D-minus. His problems began on the cover page. His brother who was helping misspelled “Revolutionary.”

“There was one thing you didn’t fool with,” Green said, “and that was Mr. Nell. He was tough.”

Like any principal, Mr. Nell’s duties were extensive, according to memos and papers at the Historical Center. Besides the day-to-day duties of running a school and overseeing the staff, he wrote to parents about their children’s behavior or progress, answered letters from parents who were concerned about their children, communicated frequently with the school system’s central office and also with the Laytonsville mayor and town council over issues such as expansion of the elementary school building and a plan to get a combined junior and senior high school in the Laytonsville area. As we know now, that didn’t happen.

Mr. Nell could also be blunt with his bosses. Memos show him complaining about wasted electricity because of the school lighting and criticizing the county for poor phone service at the school. The best example might be a memo he sent in 1964 about the system’s plan to have televised French lessons in elementary school. After what Mr. Nell called “a full and fair evaluation in this school,” he asked that the program be discontinued because “whatever benefits might accrue to one of several students is off-set by the antagonism and apathy apparent in the majority of students.”

He added that “the time given to French … could be more profitably assigned to other subjects.”

He once even became involved in religious issue. According to a letter to the editor in the Carroll County Times on April 2, 1992, Mr. Nell supported teacher James D. Smith who complained when a MCPS official said there should be “nothing about religion on our bulletin boards when she came to visit at Christmas time.” Mr. Smith, who began working at Laytonsville in 1959, wrote the letter to the Carroll County Times in response to an apparent controversy up there in 1992. He wrote that he told Mr. Nell in a staff meeting “I would resign if my bulletin board had to be changed. I said it made reference to the birth of Jesus and that is what Christmas is all about.”

Later that day, Smith wrote, Mr. Nell called him into his office. Smith was afraid he was going to be reprimanded for speaking out like that in a staff meeting. Instead, according to Smith, Mr. Nell told him, “Mr. Smith, I don’t want you to ever again threaten to resign in a situation like the one in our meeting. … You tell them you’ll see them in hell first!”

The next, day, Smith wrote, “an open Bible was on the desk in the library. … How did it get there? Richard T. Nell never ran scared.

“The supervisor did visit our school and never said a word about what she saw.”

Anne Burke Wolf and Jane Griffith Evans contributed to the editing and reporting of this story.

Photo of Mr. Nell from the fall of 1973

09/10/2026

DO YOU REMEMBER SPRING FESTIVAL TIME AT

LAYTONSVILLE ELEMENTARY SCHOOL?

By Thomas O’Toole

When the Laytonsville Historical Center began asking former students what it was like to attend Laytonsville Elementary School in the late 1950s and early 1960s, the conversation often turned to the Spring Festival. That’s also when the students became most animated.

“That was the thing to look forward to -- it was the thing to do,” said Nancy Welsh Greenan, who started kindergarten in 1958-59 and attended through sixth grade. “There would be plays and songs and all sorts of things I can't even remember right now.”

Lois Sell, who attended from kindergarten in 1952-53 through sixth grade, remembers a spring event and not necessarily a full-blown spring festival. But it was exciting nonetheless.

“I just remember how much we looked forward to it every year,” said Sell. “I remember things more like games, and I think there were prizes.”

She also had a different reason for her excitement than most of the students. As a Mennonite, and one whose father was a Mennonite minister, she was restricted from doing a lot of social activities, including square dancing in school.

“That was one of the most exciting events for me,” she said, “because there was so much I was not allowed to do.”

Stephanie Lyons Mills, who attended from kindergarten in 1960-61 through sixth grade said of the Spring Festival, “That’s one thing I'll always remember." And Gwen Mayne Sandberg, who attended from kindergarten in 1961-62 through sixth grade, called it “a huge highlight.”

PTA Fundraiser

According to the minutes from the PTA meeting on Jan. 12, 1960, PTA president Mrs. Ulysses Griffith IV “cited the need for a fund raising function. A spring festival has been suggested.” It is not clear who made the suggestion. The date was set for June 3.
After the September PTA meeting, The Sentinel newspaper reported that according to Mrs. Griffith, the festival cleared $278 and was such a success that another was planned for the spring of 1961.

It is unclear whether there was a formal spring festival prior to 1960 or just some kind of event. Green remembers performances and games at graduation. Two students who enrolled in kindergarten in the fall of 1952 told the Historical Center they didn’t remember a spring festival but did recall a Christmas show and a Thanksgiving show where “people dressed up like Indians,” according to Putt Willett. A spring field day was also mentioned.

The spring show apparently became more formalized as of 1960. Subsequent minutes from PTA meetings mention how important the festival was because it was the only fund raiser for the PTA. Fridays were the preferred day for the festival according to PTA minutes, generally the first Friday in June. The current version of the Spring Festival has been on a Saturday in May for decades.

Hard work preparing

While students looked forward to the Spring Festival, they admit it was not easy.

“They worked us to death to remember all the music,” said Gwen Mayne Sandberg, who started kindergarten in 1961-62. “I can still the remember the songs we sang, old ones like ‘The Sunny Side of the Street’ or patriotic songs. We'd have outfits. There were themes.

“The rehearsals were standing out in the heat in June or May singing. Mr. Thacker was pretty much a disciplinarian. We had to keep doing it and singing the music. It was hard work.
“I don't think they'd be able to take that kind of time now and do it today.”

Sandberg said there were always a few students “who really stood out who had talent.” She remembers a girl who did a tap dance “and kind of stole the show every year. They highlighted her. … You did your best. The parents went nuts applauding.”

Sandberg also remembers a seamstress on Griffith Road, (likely Modesta Riggs), who would “measure me and make clothes for me.” She also recalls that props were built.

Roxanne Ivkovich Frank, who enrolled in 1964-65 for fifth and sixth grade, recalls that preparations “ramped up probably right after Christmas.” There was usually a theme to the show and “each of the grades had to do something with that. I remember singing and doing some kind of musical play so to speak. I remember spending a lot of time practicing that.”

In 1963 the theme must have been international in flavor. According to the official program, the third-grade performance was called “Mexican Fiesta” and the fifth grade’s was “Bamboo Pole Dance in the Philippines.” Other grades celebrated other countries. For the finale, all the grades participated in singing patriotic songs. Then there was a band concert under the direction of Patrick Riley, which included songs like “Camptown Races” and the “Cowboy Marching Song.”

Mr. Delmar Thacker and Mrs. June Becraft were listed as directors of the chorus which presented “selections through-out the program.”

The printed program included the names of all the sponsors. Prather, Barber, White, Kemp, Green and Tydings are among those that still would be familiar to many people today.

Ads included the Montgomery County Airpark, Bar-T-Ranch, Mayne Realty, Layman’s Stop & Shop, Francis H. Barber Funeral Home and G.D. Armstrong Company Fuel Oil.

Individuals and classes performed

The day was often a mixture of class and individual performances, such as the tap dancer Sandberg mentioned.

“It was kind of like a talent show,” said Mills. “If kids wanted to perform or play an instrument, they could. It was the culmination of the school year. Kids displayed their art work. There would be food and games and entertainment.”

One year, Mills and her sister Joyce, who was a year and a half younger, performed the song “Side By Side.”

“My mother liked to dress us alike, almost like we were twins,” said Mills. “We had our arms around each other's shoulders, and we were belting out this song.”

Frank recalled that “at some point there were different things set up on the playground. I remember going to the fortune teller or something. It was little a carnival, a circus thing. I have no idea what that was connected to or if it was entirely different (from the school’s Spring Festival).”

At its best, the festival brought the school and community together.

“It was great,” said Norman Morris, who was among the first seven black students enrolled in 1956. “We did a lot. Drama things, a parade, a festival. Everybody was there. Everybody was getting along.”

Anne Burke Wolf and Jane Griffith Evans contributed to the reporting and editing of this story.

09/08/2026

THE SCHOOL DAY AT LAYTONSVILLE ELEMENTARY

By Thomas O’Toole

Anyone attending Laytonsville Elementary from the mid-1950s to the mid-1960s likely rode a bus to school, had as many as 30 and possibly more students in a class, went without air conditioning, had the option to buy lunch at the school cafeteria, held recess on a spartan playground, played a lot of kickball or softball, jumped rope, climbed trees in what was once an apple orchard, recited the pledge of allegiance, learned square dancing, could have had kindergarten classes on the stage, enjoyed cool field trips to D.C., went to Miss Catherine’s store and, if they paid, took piano lessons after school. They also – depending on the specific years of attendance -- were among the first students in the country to be a part of integration following a Supreme Court ruling.

Laytonsville at the time was probably similar to thousands of elementary schools around the country, particularly those in rural areas. But Laytonsville Elementary is special because it’s ours. In many cases our children and grandchildren went there, maybe even our parents and grandparents. As the town and surrounding area continued to grow, those new to the community brought a fresh perspective and energy while hopefully gaining an appreciation for the past.

The Laytonsville Historical Center reached out to students from that time period to talk about their experiences in the classroom, on the playground and with integration and to share their special memories, like the Spring Festival.

“It was a close-knit group,” recalled Roy Green, who attended Laytonsville from kindergarten in 1952-53 through sixth grade in 1958-59. “We had small classes. We had good teachers. You knew the teachers. Your brothers and sisters had many of them. … You had government workers’ kids, farmers’ kids, a lot of different people.

“Everybody knew everybody else. Of course, they probably knew everybody else's business. There were very few strangers. Once in a while we would get a new kid in, but they wouldn't be a stranger for very long. It really was a great place to go to school.”
Depending on the specific year, buses full of elementary students began arriving between 7:30 and 7:45. Then Gaithersburg High School students boarded them. Staff remained at the school generally till 4 or later depending on the person.

The former students we talked with generally remember it warmly.

“I go past the school all the time,” said Nancy Welsh Greenan, who started kindergarten in the fall of 1958, “and I look at it and think, ‘That's my elementary school!’”

Making allowances for the differences in years and administrations, here’s a look at how elements of the school day could have been very much alike or very much different.

BEFORE THE SCHOOL DAY BEGAN

Because of the area farms, many students began their day well before the bus came.

Roy Green, kindergarten 1952-53 through sixth grade: “I had two daily chores. There were others weekly or monthly. The daily chores were bringing milk up from the dairy barn for our family consumption, and feeding the chickens and gathering the eggs. I generally did these after school. If not, I had to do them before school the next morning.”

Norman Morris, kindergarten in 1956 through sixth grade: “We got up at 5:30 and did the chores. Milk the cow, feed everything. In the summers we worked horses and worked in the garden and the fields. … We didn’t have what other people may have. There was no running water. It was hard. You got to do it. It made me understand things.”

Gwen Mayne Sandberg, kindergarten 1961-62 through sixth grade: “I grew up on a farm. I had to get up early from age 9 to feed animals, so I was pretty strong for a young kid, moreso than other young children. And I remember in the gym we had these ropes that go from the floor to the ceiling, and I was the only one in the whole school who could climb all the way up. Probably 15 feet. I was kind of skinny, and it's easier to get up the rope when you're skinnier.”

ON THE SCHOOL BUS

Green: “All the bus drivers were pretty tough. One would grab you and throw you into your seat. He was tough. Mr. Oldman was a nice guy, really a nice man. … The bus was very dependable.”

Roxanna Ivkovich Frank, transferred in 1964-65 from Harmony Hills Elementary for fifth and sixth grade: “I was used to the bus. But (at her previous school) there was a bus stop where you hung out with other people. In Laytonsville, it comes to the end of your driveway. We had a little farmer guy who drove buses. He had a really strict policy on his bus. You could barely talk. You were perfectly quiet on that bus. Everybody was scared of him. … Just elementary school kids were on the bus. High school kids were all waiting at the elementary school.”

Stephanie Lyons Mills, kindergarten 1960-61 through sixth grade: “Sometimes the bus came and sometimes it didn't. That was mainly in the winter. We were like, ‘Okay, is it coming today?’ My parents were already at work. Unless one of the neighbors gave us a ride we didn't go.”

IN THE CLASSROOM

Green: “I think we had a music class once a week; I don't really remember. It was fourth or fifth grade. They tested me for what instrument I should use, the music teacher I guess did it. They had you blow into a clarinet and a trumpet. Thay said, ‘You should be a brass player.’ I didn't care.”

Putt Willett, kindergarten 1952-53 through fourth grade: “We had geography, English, writing, including cursive, arithmetic. No gym or PE. There was an introduction to 4-H. We had an extension agent from the University of Maryland as a guest speaker. I remember erosion pictures. I think it was Mrs. Foster’s husband. … I took piano lessons after school. You had to pay extra. They had a piece of wood and painted keys for practice.”

Lois Sell, kindergarten 1952-53 through sixth grade: “We did have the Weekly Reader … and I guess my news primarily came from that. I remember Mrs. Foster, who kept in contact with me. My sister also had her for fourth grade. One thing I remember about her: She didn't teach us much about science, but we could get a good grade in science if we did an experiment that we could show the class. I had the idea that I was sure I could do but wasn't sure if it would work. I took a piece of wood, a newspaper and a baseball bat. If I remember correctly, I laid the piece of wood on the paper on the edge of the table. and I hit the end of the wood and it broke off, which was supposed to happen. …

When my sister (Mary) was in sixth grade, she had Mr. Thacker. She was a very good student. Mr. Thacker would play the piano; he had a piano in the classroom and other classes would come in a join their class for music class. One day when other classes came in, there were some boys who were acting up. and they would not stop. He picked up an eraser and threw it at the boys and missed and hit a girl in the face next to them. He was so embarrassed and so upset and apologized.”

Morris: “I remember Mrs. Green (in kindergarten and Roy Green’s mother). We used to go to her farm (for a field trip). Mrs. Green and Mrs. Pruitt went far to the max to help me out, learning regular math, multiplication tables, things like that. It helped me out so much.”

Mills: "Everybody had their own desk. We had to bring our own supplies -- paper, pencils, that kind of thing. There might have been movies but not as a learning thing. … (In sixth grade) they had added on an addition, and one of the rooms they used was for home economics so you get exposure to sewing and cooking and planning meals. So there’s space in the day for that. And there was space on some days when it was an art room. I really liked the opportunity to do art when we could. It was a nice break from what we were doing in the classroom. … Mr. Jackson (in sixth grade) had had this board, the ‘board of education,’ that he could use as discipline because you could hit kids back then. I never got hit.”

Frank: “Mr. Jackson did some quirky things. When you were supposed to be reading in class, sometimes the guys would prop their book up in front of them and then they would sink down so you could not see their head, but they would not be reading; they would be taking a nap. Mr. Jackson had a drawer full of tennis balls, and he would wing a ball at your book. … We had Home Economics. I do remember that. I did like the art teacher. Female art teacher. I thought that was pretty cool. She was good. … For homework, I remember projects. Science things. When we were doing biology we had to do all these diagrams of plants and naming things. It was time consuming. … There were probably 20-25 kids in a class. It is just a regular classroom; we all had individual desks; a rectangle wood desk, carved slot for pen or pencil, and there was an opening like a shelf under your desk. You always had to have book covers on your books. A lot of the boys in my class would be jealous because my dad worked in the Pentagon, and he would always bring me home book covers that were military stuff, jets and stuff on my books. … There was a screen where you would walk behind and hang your coats. You didn't put your coats at your desk. My fifth-grade class was facing in the courtyard so we had big windows. It was light and nice. The sixth-grade classes were on the other side of the hall and they faced out the front of the school. … I was coming from a relatively newer area of suburbia; all my schools were new. When you get to Laytonsville, the school was so old looking. I had not been in a school that had been like that; it was a little dingier than I would have expected. It was a little more run down looking.”

Sandberg: “My fourth-grade teacher, Mrs. Foster, was very involved in agriculture. I remember that. In math, we were supposed to all memorize the multiplication tables, maybe to the 9's. I did it all the way to the 12's. I've always been that way. So, I learned to memorize them all that way. And she said, ‘Everyone should do it like Gwendy did it.’ That gave me a sense of something I'm good at, a sense of confidence. You could say anything, I knew the answer to the 12 tables. … Teachers can be pretty powerful influencers on children so if every teacher has the ability to see something in each child that they excel in, if they could find something that builds self-efficacy, they can be an influencer. I've always liked school and teachers. I was a little bit intimidated by the eraser throwing or missing recess, but they were just good people. I have fond memories. … I got hit with an eraser. It didn't hurt but it was humiliating. I was talking away, and it was rude and interruptive. I got hit in sixth grade with a board, nothing big, just lightly tapping my hand. Mr. Jackson would have the boys bend over. I don't remember anyone being brought to tears, but they were humiliated to some level. … One of my favorite memories was Mrs. Pruitt in first grade once a week would read a chapter from ‘Charlotte's Web,’ and I just learned to love reading. It was just a story about a pet pig, and later I had a pet pig and fed him a bottle. … At some point, they taught a few of us how to speed read.”

LUNCH TIME

The cafeteria was remembered fondly by former students. And it was popular. For example, in the spring of 1959, the cafeteria sold an average of 68 lunches. In March of that year, 145 free lunches were served, according to PTA meeting minutes.
Green: “Mrs. Burdette was the cafeteria manager. My mother felt we should eat a good meal at the school. I always thought the food was good. The ice cream sandwiches were like a nickel, I didn't have a nickel all the time, but I liked them. They had potatoes, corn, peas, once in a while a hamburger, once in a while a hot dog, more farm food.”

Willett: “I remember it was 2 cents for milk, I think 35 cents for lunch.”

Sell: “I brought my lunch most of the time. The thing I remember about lunch time is my mother baked, and we had home-baked things in our lunches. I remember Mike Montgomery would sit close to me at lunch time because he always wanted to trade for my homemade baked goods, and because I didn't have the kinds of things he had, I was happy to trade for something that came from the store.”

Mills: “The cafeteria was great. They made some great food. We had six kids and my mom packed our lunch, and it was not exciting. Till this day I do not like bologna. That was what we had. … Every now and then we were able to buy lunch. Kids helped, carried trays back in, and I did that so I could get the real good food. I don’t remember (everything they had), but it was better than bologna sandwiches. … I do know the pizza was good. And we had fish sticks on Friday because everybody thought they were Catholic when they were not.”

Sandberg: “Always the Catholic thing on Friday's was fish sticks. … The highlight for kids was going on the playground, but you could not go out if you didn't eat at least half your meal. I would take a bite and roll it up in my napkin. … It was 35 cents for lunch, 2 cents for milk and a dime for ice cream. Sometimes (her mother) would pack me a sandwich and then give me 12 cents.”

ON THE PLAYGROUND

Green: “There was an apple orchard. There were plenty of apples, green apples, probably 10-12 trees, two rows. We were in them all the time. … We played a lot of kickball, there was a sandbox, a see-saw; they had some hoops up, so basketball; football was not as big.”

Willett: “Kickball, softball, roller skating with strap-on skates with a skate key. There was a paved hill right behind the school where we could roller skate. One day I guess I got knocked out, came down about 100 miles an hour. … There was a jungle gym that was mostly for the younger kids.”

Sell: What I remember about recess is how we came up with things to do. One time we got into playing ‘Chicken,’ and we were maybe fifth graders then, and we girls would ride piggy-back on the guys and we would run into each other and the goal was to knock the girls off. We loved it until one of the teachers found out and said it was way too dangerous. … We had a girl who showed horses, so she started bringing her ribbons to school and we started doing our own horse competitions, we would gallop and jump and she would rate us and give us the ribbons. Of course she took all the ribbons back.”

Mills: “I remember kick ball, dodge ball, some hop scotch, see-saw, the jungle gym.”

SAFETY PATROLS

Green: “In sixth grade, I rang the bells (for the buses). I went to the principal’s office and there were buttons. If there was bus 1, I hit one button. I think we had five buses. I would ring five times for the fifth bus. I was a patrol. But the only thing I ever did was ring the bells. They didn't even give me a belt.”

Sell: “I lived less than a mile away but still took the bus. It was a very short ride. I was a lieutenant in safety patrol in sixth grade. Sometimes I had to walk with the walkers and walk up to the intersection (at Brink and Sundown) and help when people crossed the street.”

Mills: “I always wanted to be a patrol. I thought they were cool. But we lived so close, what was the point? I was getting off the bus very quickly.”

Frank: “I was a patrol in sixth grade. I would have to go on the bus with the kindergarteners because they were the ones who went half a day. … I remember you had to fold your patrol belt a certain way with the badge on top.”

Anne Burke Wolf and Jane Griffith Evans contributed to the reporting and editing of this story.

Address

P. O. Box 5158
Laytonsville, MD
20882

Website

http://laytonsvillehistory.com/, https://cyberpackventures.sharefile.com/share/view/s143f27072539445c8200b1bb7f4566d2

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Laytonsville: From Crossroads to Community