A Trip Down Memory Lane

5/21/2017

Long ago, they were classmates. Today, they are, in the truest sense, forever-friends. They’re Collegiate’s Class of 1955, a sprightly, charming and thoroughly entertaining group which has stayed in touch and enjoyed each other’s company since their graduation day 62 years ago.

With 10 of their original 17 members in attendance, they convened once again this past Thursday at Adrienne Gould Constine’s home on Old Richmond Road for a “combined” 80^th birthday celebration.

They shared vignettes and reminisced gleefully. They told poignant stories and tales of mischief. OK, so a detail or two might have slipped through the cracks of time. No worries. Their joy was palpable, their laughter contagious, and their gratitude for the lessons learned at 1619 Monument Avenue powerful and everlasting.

My recorder and I were honored guests on this delightful trip down “memory lane.” Everyone had an opportunity to share thoughts, insights, and recollections. Here are a few.

Elizabeth Minor McCommon

The Town School and my experience at Westhampton College had a lot of similarities. The Town School had an asphalt playground. It had no theater. When I went to Westhampton, I was in love with theater. The theater there was a Quonset hut. It reminded me of Collegiate in that the physical plant, so to speak, could have been more “uptown.” I realized that this is not what creates education. It’s the people. You do not need extravagant accouterments in your life. You need dedicated people.

Tabb Thornton Farinholt

This comes from (an article I was asked to write for) the 75^th anniversary edition of Spark: “My days at Collegiate roll across my memory in colorful musical pageantry due largely to the artistic flair of (headmistress) Mrs. (Catharine) Flippen with the tuneful backdrop of Miss (Adeline) Cowles (later, Mrs. Cox) on her piano. It seems we sang or danced our way through much of school, carols galore every December, maypoles and other grassy gambols every spring. I’ve worked in other quite good schools, but I’ve always felt some ineffable, key ingredient was missing. What was it? Perhaps the celebration of life. The celebration was imbued into our daily routines but also scheduled regularly on anticipated special occasions.” I also wrote about the naughty things we did, but they didn’t put them in.

“‘Naughty things?’” I interjected. “I’m sure the statute of limitations has run out. Anything you’d like share with us now?”

“Turn that (recorder) off, and I’ll tell you,” she replied to the guffaws of her classmates.

Adrienne Gould Constine.

The values that we had then are the same in this beautiful school that we have today. I loved Miss (Virginia) Tyree. She was wonderful in every way. She was so beautiful and smart. She had this outgoing personality. I just loved her English class. I wanted to grow up and be just like her. She taught me was that you should always go the extra mile. When I went into business, I remembered especially that advice.

Holliday (Holly) Miller Pulsifer

My mother (Mrs. H.C.L. Miller) was a member of the Collegiate Board for 40 years. I grew up with a different perspective than some of you because Mother would talk about running the school or the challenges that she wanted to help solve and also because I went home to Goochland County at the end of the school day. The rest of you went off to the drugstore or to sports. I never played sports there. Well, I did play hockey once. That was awful. (Much laughter ensued.)

It became obvious that the Town School didn’t have adequate facilities and couldn’t expand. Mother and other people identified a piece of land across from Mooreland Farm that (Richard) Reynolds owned and persuaded him to give five acres to the school. On that piece of land was built Holliday Hall for the youngest children. The campus became larger and larger with more and more buildings. It (the North Mooreland site) started with one tiny building called Holliday Hall. In memory of that, the courtyard in front of (where it stood) retains the name Holliday (Court).

Tabb Farinholt

I was a student and teacher under Mrs. Flippen. She said that she really missed the Town School when she moved out to the much grander, bigger Collegiate Schools. She said she especially missed looking out the window and watching the children play because she could tell everything about their personalities watching them play. She lost that when she got her new office.

Lucy Boswell Negus

Miss Cowles was our music teacher, homeroom teacher, and a wise person. She didn’t become Mrs. Cox until after we’d graduated. When we went back for a reunion 10 or 15 years later, she was standing at the podium in an auditorium and talking about the old days. Lo and behold, she pulled out of her pocket all these notes – most of them were about boys – that had been passed in class that she had confiscated. She read these notes. She’d kept them all those years. It was so funny.

Lucie Hall Fitzgerald

Coming back from Washington on a bus, pitch-black dark, I can hear Mrs. (Aline) Rudisill right now (as Lucie assumes Mrs. Rudisill’s distinctive voice against the backdrop of much laughter): “I heard that some of my girls were smoking. But Luuuucie…I never dreamed it was you.” I haven’t gotten over it yet. There were about five of us. For some reason, we thought we had permission.

Lucy Negus

Mrs. Rudasill was the librarian. We would be across the hall in the study hall. She would come running across the hall and say, (again, assuming her distinctive voice), “Laaaadies, what would your mothers say?” One time, we went into her library when she wasn’t there and put alarm clocks behind the books. They were ticking away and all set to go off at different times. She was beside herself.

Betsy McCommon

(Adeline Cowles Cox) came from the USO. I don’t know what the occasion was, but we were all gathered in the basement cafeteria. Adeline put on her top hat, tails, and tights, and she came out singing (in a gravelly voice, Betsy launches into verse), “I don’t care, I don’t care, what people think of me…” (from the chorus of “I Don’t Care”). That really sank in. Does anybody have a teacher like that today, dressing up like that and bringing her passion into the classroom?

“Dressing up like that?” I said. “Maybe not every day. Bringing his or her passion into the classroom? Definitely.”

Bernice Spathey Walker

There are three ways a Collegiate education has stuck with me. One was the English and composition classes with Miss Tyree in the beginning and Miss (Helen) Moon later. I was a science major. Science majors have the reputation of not being able to write the King’s English. I ended up doing editing. We could diagram sentences. I’m not afraid of diagramming sentences.

Number 2. When I started my teaching career, I decided it would be a good thing to be certified by the state of Virginia. One of the classes I had to take was math. I hadn’t taken any math in college, I couldn’t remember any math, but what stuck with me was the method for solving those word problems we hated in middle school. That’s what got me through that math class.

Number 3 was the integrity Collegiate stood for then, stands for now, that I see such a need for in personal behavior. It’s sorely lacking in our culture. I would recommend to all Collegiate graduates…don’t give up on the integrity education you’re getting at Collegiate.

Mary Kuehl Barden

I gained a lot of confidence at Collegiate. I was very shy. In those four years, I learned to put my feet on the ground and think for myself.

Adrienne Constine

Going to Collegiate has helped me feel that I could do anything I put my mind to because of the way that I was taught. I loved the people in my class. They were very kind. We all got along well. We have such wonderful memories that we’ll have forever.

My visit was coming to an end. As the members of the Class of ’55 were assembling for a group picture, I asked if anyone had any final words.

“Hail Collegiate!” one replied, then another, then all, in unison.

-- Weldon Bradshaw

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