Patricia Benton Bowker

Monson and the Academy Remembered

As the hills surround Monson, so the town of Monson surrounded its Academy for more than 167 years. Unlike other private schools, Monson Academy was not contained in a campus apart from the community, but had its buildings along Main Street and High Street at the heart of Monson. The Academy dormitories, Morris House, Homestead, Chapin House and Holmbrook were large and gracious Victorian houses. Cushman Hall, the only dormitory built for that purpose, sits at the middle of downtown Monson across the street from the 1925 Monson High School building. Academy students walked up and down Academy Hill on their way to and from classes in the main Academy building and meals at Cushman Hall, and later the dining room at Holmbrook. They walked (or jogged) from Holmes Gymnasium to the athletic fields, Cushman Field in the early years, later Sullivan Field on Bethany Road and finally Dr. Rogers Field on the hill above High Street, once Flynt Park.

Monson is a unique and special town. It has grown some, but not so much that the character or the look of the community changes. Monson is not a satellite or suburb of any other town. People do commute to nearby cities, but Monson has never been a "bedroom" suburb as many other small towns are. Monson is not located on the way to some other place. It is not on any major highway. When someone is driving in Monson, it's usually because Monson is the destination. Monson has kept its individuality. All over the world, a fortunate number of Monson natives, like me, and graduates of Monson Academy who spent a few years in Monson, remember this place with fondness and pride.

My childhood in Monson during the 1930's and '40's was unusual because I was a faculty child in the Academy and experienced life in the prep school and also in the community. There were four Academy children -- Beverly Rogers, my brother Richard Benton, Barbara Morrow and me. Beverly and my brother were Academy students, so were not a part of the high school social scene. I happily divided my days between the Academy group and my high school activities and feel I benefited from both worlds.

Our family lived in the first floor apartment of Morris House at 21 High Street from my babyhood until 1942, when our Dad went off to serve in World War II. It was like being part of a houseful of fun loving teenage cousins. One winter the boys built us a huge snow house in the front yard, complete with an icy slide all the way down to where the tennis courts would be. We used our baby bath tub as our slider. The Academy boys in Morris House had a big Flexible Flyer sled and a toboggan, which they used to get to meals at Cushman Hall at the foot of Academy Hill. The ride down the snowy hill from the Congregational Church to Cushman Hall must have been fast and exciting.

Hal White, Class of '39, lived in Morris House and entertained my brother and me on a daily basis by making scary faces and loping through the house with us in hot pursuit. When we caught him, he'd let us ride on his back. In 2003, my brother and I visited Hal in Bradenton, Florida. He greeted us by making his classic hideous face, and even let us climb up on his back once more for old times sake and a photo opportunity. Now we have matching photos from 1935 and 2003. None of us have changed!

The daily Academy protocols were unvarying, and not much like family life in typical households. We all got up promptly at seven each morning when my Dad rang the bell to rouse the boys. The students and faculty headed down Academy Hill for breakfast at Cushman Hall. My brother and I ate our oatmeal at Morris House and walked up High Street to Mechanic Street School. We faculty children joined the school dining room routine when we were seven or eight years old and considered old enough to act appropriately at meal times.

Faculty and their children gathered before meals in the faculty room, first at Cushman Hall and later at Holmbrook. The students socialized in the common room. Very often, the headmaster, Mr. Rogers, would be in the common room, playing the piano for the boys. Meal time was announced for lunch at 12 noon, and dinner at 5:30 PM by a hand bell, usually wielded by Mary Harris. At this signal, the boys lined up on either side of the hallway and waited for faculty and their families to enter the dining room, led by Mr. and Mrs. Rogers. All went to their assigned tables and stood at their places until Mr. Rogers said grace: "Bless this food to our use and us to thy service, Amen". After Mrs. Rogers was seated, the rest of us also sat down. Once Mrs. Rogers had lifted her fork, everyone could begin to eat. Each faculty member headed a table for eight. The boys took turns being waiters for each table. Table assignments changed weekly. This way, everyone became well acquainted with everyone else.

Mrs. Andrew, the cook, was renowned for her doughnuts and banana cream pies. Every now and then, Mr. Rogers would suggest "three cheers for the ladies in the kitchen" and everyone sang out "Hip, hip, hurrah!" Mrs. Andrew and her helpers always came to the door from the kitchen to acknowledge with smiles.

When I was at Monson High School, right across the street from Cushman Hall, I had special permission from the principal, Mr. Holley, to be excused from class 15 minutes early to get to the Academy dining room for lunch. I enjoyed waltzing out of school in full view of my classmates who had to stay in their seats till noon.

Every Sunday afternoon the Academy held a tea in the Cushman Hall common room for the students and their parents. Serving at one end of the tea table was my mother, Ruth Benton, and at the other end, Mrs. Morrow. The Headmaster and Mrs. Rogers and the entire faculty circulated among the guests. I loved being included at tea time from age four and even endured having to curtsey every time I was introduced to someone. Of course, the boys were always on their best behavior. Any spilled tea was surely accidental.

After basketball games in Holmes Gymnasium, tea and hot cocoa were served at Cushman Hall to the Monson boys and the visiting team. One of the more interesting of these teas took place in 1939, after a game with Monson's archrival, Wilbraham Academy. I attended that game with my playmate, Carolyn Hayden. She had never watched a basketball game, and asked me if I'd take her along so she could see what it was all about. It was a close game and tension was high. The referee made a questionable call, and suddenly all the members of both teams were on the basketball court swinging their fists at each other. Some spectators joined in, and it was bedlam. Carolyn was wide eyed and commented to me that she'd had no idea basketball was so exciting. My dad, Henry Benton, and Mr. Morrow struggled to subdue the combatants. Just as the two of them pinned a Monson boy's arms to keep him from hitting a Wilbraham player, the Wilbraham boy punched the Monson student squarely on the nose. After order was restored, both teams walked down to Cushman Hall together for refreshments. Everyone pretended not to notice the blood flecked shirts of Mr. Benton and Mr. Morrow.

Dances were popular among Monson teenagers. Our eighth grade English teacher, Miss Kirkpatrick taught us basic steps after school in her classroom. This gave us confidence to go to the weekly Saturday evening Teen Canteen at the town hall. Mr. O'Neill, the high school math teacher was the DJ and host. These affairs were suspenseful, as the boys lined up on one side of the hall and the girls on the other side. When the music started, the boys came across the room to choose partners. We girls worried about being wallflowers or having to dance with someone we did not care for. Probably the boys had concerns about getting to the girl of choice before someone else did.

Monson High School held three dances a year; Sophomore Hop in the fall, Junior Prom in late winter, and Senior Reception in the spring. The student decorating committee transformed the gym with crepe paper streamers to create a party atmosphere. The second floor of the high school had windows that opened onto the gym and were always crowded with mothers during our dances. I suppose they wanted to see their daughters all dressed up and looking glamorous. We teens tried to ignore the faces watching from above. Very often in the 1940's, the chosen band for our dances was Carl Aliengena's group, Four Hits and a Miss, featuring Carl playing trumpet and my classmate, Vera Litz, at the piano.

Academy dances were held at Holmes Gymnasium. A revolving crystal ball hung from the rafters and candlelit tables for four were set around the walls. The Headmaster, his wife, and other faculty chaperones occupied a front corner furnished with sofa, a lamp and a couple of upholstered chairs. Many Monson girls came to these dances. Out of town girls were housed in dormitory space. My father dreaded having to be in charge of the overnight guests, as they were usually in a party mood. No one got much sleep.

Mrs. Rogers helped find dates for boys who did not know any girls to invite. She kept a list of nice local girls and dealt with introductions. When I was in 7th grade and my Dad was in North Africa, winning World War II, Mrs. Rogers launched my social career by arranging a date for me with an Academy 7th grade boy. It was a thrill to wear a long formal dress and be presented with a corsage.

Once a year the Academy held an informal tea dance in Cushman Hall common room. After tea and a little dancing around the room, most of us walked down Main Street to the show at the Monson movie theater. I remember how embarrassed I was to be seen by my date weeping over "Lassie" at the movies. But I couldn't help it.

Bert P. Anderson's drugstore was the gathering place for teenagers, both high school and Academy. My friends and I discovered that we could enjoy ice cream sodas for only a nickel a piece. One person ordered a coke and another ordered a little five cent ice cream. Two glasses, two straws and a spoon, some dividing and mixing, and we each had a custom made ice cream soda.. The booths in the drugstore were where the girls liked to relax. The boys hung around outside the door.

On Sunday mornings, town and Academy came together for worship at the Congregational Church on High Street. This was mandatory for all Academy students except for Catholic boys, who were trusted to make their own way to St. Patrick's on Green Street, a beautiful church built of Monson granite. All the others assembled outside the Congregational Church and entered in single file to sit in the center front section reserved for them. Faculty and their families sat to the right of the students.

My childhood and teen age years included many activities in and around the church. The memorable part of the Sunday school experience was collection time, when we children marched in line to the collection box, singing "Dropping, dropping, hear the pennies fall. Every one for Jesus, he will get them all." Somehow that did not seem fair to me. I thought everybody was supposed to share. The Dorcas Society met at the church on Tuesday afternoons to sew layettes for orphans.

My friend, Vera Litz and I walked there together from Mechanic Street School to be with our mothers. The ladies let us "help out" with their projects. The smell of coffee still reminds me of Dorcas Society.

At Christmas, the highlight of the annual party at Sunday School was the penny scramble, when Mr. Cushman stood on a platform and tossed hundreds of shiny new pennies onto the floor. We all rushed around trying to claim pennies. Quite a few fingers got stepped on in the process, but it was all very exciting.

Pilgrim Fellowship, for teenagers, met at the church Sunday evenings. It was largely unsupervised and we spent most of our time playing Sardines, which involved finding hiding places all over the building. Every inch of that church was explored by us. We also went as a group to Easter sunrise services. The most interesting trip was when eight of us crammed ourselves into Kenny Stebbins's father's big sedan and headed for sunrise service in Hampden. For fun, Kenny put the car in reverse and sped up High Street backwards. After the car was turned back toward Hampden and on course, we all had time to settle down and be ready to behave as proper Pilgrim Fellowship members.

Theatrical productions in Monson were produced by both Monson High School and Monson Academy students and were presented on the stage at the Town Hall, now Memorial Hall.

The High school plays were cast easily, as there were both boys and girls available for the various roles. The Academy plays were a challenge to cast, as there were no female students for the roles. This was solved by having boys take the female character roles, which added an element of humor to any play. I was usually recruited for the one ingénue part in any given play.

Monson people include all who have lived in the town or spent school years at Monson Academy. It has been an enrichment of my life to have spent my first twenty years in this special place and within Monson Academy. Life is change, and Monson changes. It has been more than fifty years since I left my hometown, but every time I visit, I see that it retains its distinctive character. The changes are all positive and have not altered the atmosphere that makes Monson feel like home. It just gets better with the passage of years. It is clear that Monson is proud of its past, present and future. The Monson and Monson Academy art collection is a celebration of this village and its school.