"The Oaks" School Commemoration 2004

New York
Saturday 20 November 2004

Dear Mary, Ron and Chip
I was delighted to hear from my brothers Fabian and Mike, of the Oaks School commemoration organized by yourselves, albeit after the event – due to computer hassles. I am grateful to you all for doing something to preserve the memory of something that was very good. These days a school is supposed to have resources the like of which we could never have imagined. But I think the Oaks prepared us for life very effectively with just one man, one room and a mere handful of books.

Inspired by the just received letter of my brother Fabian to your good selves, I feel impelled to say a word or two about the old school.
We three Foale boys started school together when I had just turned eight, in about May 1941. Till then our mother had somehow managed to teach us at home with the help of correspondence lessons. I can’t begin to imagine how she did it, having at that point nine children, the oldest just about to turn twelve, and having to produce at home most of the things people expect to buy in shops, all without benefit of electricity or refrigeration. The year we started there were twelve kids in the school, and by the last year, 1944, we were down to eight, including five members of our family.
For all of us Robert Harding was a kind of shaman or wise man of the woods. He seemed to know everything about birds and lizards and all wild creatures, he was close to nature, and he was very comfortable in his skin. He knew a few words our parents hadn’t taught us, and that only added to his stature. We always held him in affection and respect and were saddened by his untimely death.
From their religious background our parents were a bit dubious about sending us to a public school. They had nothing to worry about. It was a very healthy and encouraging environment. Mr Lane was diligent, very correct, inclined to be strict, but kindness ruled over all his other qualities; a good man. He used to have projects that involved all the kids, such as building a model village. It was a very good learning environment and stretched our imaginations. During lunch hour he used to ride his bike one mile to his home and leave us to our own devices. Apart from the paddy melon war, one memorable lunch time escapade in the hot summer weather was showering under a high water tank just off the school grounds. I guess it was Robert Harding who found a way to open the valve. The plan was to bathe baked, and therefore the girls were all confined to the school room under strict orders not to look out while we boys had fun. When word of this got back to our parents all hell broke loose. Too bad. Those tell tale little sisters! In their innocence they spoiled out innocent fun.
We boys got into rabbit trapping, especially for the money, which was otherwise not available to us in those tough times. With some of our income we bought more traps, increasing our haul and getting us even later to school. But it was not only the rabbit traps that held us up along the road. We had a marvellous time with birds’ nests and other amazing manifestations of life on the roadside. Sometimes professional rabbit trappers appeared along the road. One of these men would catch over 400 rabbits overnight, and gut them, leaving the skins on, and bringing them by horse and cart to meet a refrigerated truck that took them to the big city. We did not sell whole rabbits, only the skins, but the price was good.
At The Oaks the world seemed a wonderful place, and there we were always discovering exciting new things, growing up healthy, and learning to live with others. It seemed a pity when the school bus eliminated the need for such a place.
Peace
Jeff Foale