A Teacher of 1906

Our story is about a teacher who entered the teaching profession in Yavapai County fifty-three years agoknown to many in Arizona as Virgie Hite Robbins. Prescott and Yavapai County in the year 1906 were interesting and wonderful to Virgie Hite when she, a girl of eighteen, recently graduated from Tecumseh Nebraska High School, qualified herself for a teaching position in the public schools. It was the custom in those days for a teachers' examination to be given by the county school superintendent. The questions were sent by the Territorial Department of Education, in a sealed envelope to be opened in the presence of the group to be examined.

"And," said Virgie in her interview with Cowbelles, "that examination was hard . . . It dealt with the most difficult aspects of every subject to be taught in the elementary schools. To cover it required a long, hard day of concentration. Mr. Jolly was county school superintendent at that time, and it was he who set a day early in September for the examination."

Prescott was a flourishing little town in 1906. There was much mining activity. Many residents were men with capital to invest in this part of the country-they and their families residing there, for the most part, because of their nearby ventures in mining or cattle raising, and to enjoy the conveniences and pleasant social life of the town. There were organizations of lodges and clubs, schools, churches and many beautiful homes.

But Whiskey Row along Montezuma Street enjoyed a fabulous reputation all over the West. In the quiet little town among the hills there was at night the brilliantly lighted row of saloon after saloon, in which were offered refreshments, games of chance, and entertainment to please the most sophisticated.

Although the activities of these places of business were definitely apart from the regular lives of the wives and daughters of respectable people, they were frequented by gentlemen of high and low degree; and Whiskey Row was felt in many ways in the daily life of the town.

When the county superintendent visited, he assumed the position of teacher and conducted examinations on all subjects.

"For one night each year," said Virgie, "the saloons on Whiskey Row held Open House, and all the gentle-men in the area were invited to bring the proper ladies of their household or acquaintance to be entertained."

In the phrases of today, this would have been called a public relations venture, the proprietors desiring to show, really, how respectable they were. For the occasion all habitual drunkards and any suggestion of illegal activi-ties, if any existed, were put well out of sight.

But the games of chance were open for all, as gambling was legal then; and the best entertainment of dancers, singers and musicians was offered. Music by pipe organ, piano, violin, accordion, and other instruments was a feature. And the food served to all who wished to partake was most delicious.

Saloon singers in those days were not considered "fast" women, but rather women of talent and probable virtue; their calling being regarded socially in practically the same dim light as was all theatrical work. Their employment being, as it was, upon "forbidden ground," the ladies of the town who set the social standards decreed that the singers in saloons not enjoy an acceptable social standing in the community.

However, on Open House Night the whole town participated in the saloon-keepers' hospitality; the proper ladies wearing masquerade costumes, or at least a mask,

as neither housewife nor social leader wished to have her face seen in such a place-however much she might be urged by a desire to peek into forbidden places . . . well chaperoned, of course, if unmarried, and, in any event, accompanied by a gentleman escort. For those who know that era it is needless to say that the true ladies amongst the wholesome womanhood of the little frontier town did not partake of the alcoholic refreshments. Neither, for the greater part, did their escorts who, on Open House Night as well as upon other occasions, usually conformed to the gentlemanly custom of not drinking to any excessive degree when escorting ladies socially or in public.

It was the custom of Virgie's Uncle (Tom FitzSimmons), as she grew to young-ladyhood, to add to the usual festivities of the night a private supper for her and her sister, Catherine, and a crowd of their special friendsall in masquerade-at the old Winsor restaurant on Gurley Street, where they would eat fried chicken until long after midnight, prolonging as long as his patience permitted, their one night of the year of delicious sophistication.

"Now," continued Virgie, reviewing her experience, "it was most unfortunate that the time selected by Mr. Jolly for holding the teachers' examinations in that year of 1906 fell upon the day following the night of Open House! "Many of us for whom 9:00 p.m. was bedtime the year around-had had hardly a wink of sleep; and those

that were wakeful enough to concentrate, were hardly able to dispel from their minds the glamorous and unusual experiences of the night before... It is my recollection that no one passed and the examination had to be given over for the group of seven or more who returned for the second trial.

Upon being properly certified, Virgie was assigned to the teaching position at Crown King, that school being in need of a teacher and depending upon Mr. Jolly's choice to fill the position. Crown King, sixty-five miles away, was the center of a mining area high upon the Bradshaw Mountains, served by a switchback railroad from Prescott. The mines were the Blue Bell, the Old Tiger, the Ora Bell, the Mascot, the Savoy, the Lincoln, the Wild Flower, and Crown King-all producing gold.

On Saturday preceding the Monday of school opening, the young teacher rode her horse, Chip, out of Prescott on her way to Crown King. On that September day of 1906 Virgie rode alone along a poorly defined trail which led from mining claim to mining claim, at each of which a grizzled miner greeted her with utmost courtesy, directed her to the next camp, and offered her a drink of water; in exchange for which she offered the news of the day in an area that lacked the regular service of mail and newspaper. This young and attractive woman rode her pretty horse along a wilderness trail of sixtyfive miles duration without escort; but, knowing the character of the frontiersman, she rode without fear.

The first night out she stayed at the Senator Mine. Rising early the next morning, she continued on her way to Crown King. Virgie recalls having a delicious lunch with Mrs. Goodwin the second day; and, as night fell, the lights of the Lincoln Mine showed ahead to mark the direction of her trail. When, in the distance, she saw the lights of the Wild Flower, she knew her destination to be near. It was nearing ten o'clock at night when Virgie reached Crown King where she was welcomed by a group of the local residents who had become worried for the safety of their new school teacher, and were about to start a search for her.

Dr. and Mrs. McDonnell received her into their home and accorded her all the privileges of a member of the family.

When Monday morning dawned Virgie began her "first day of school" in the Miners' Hall. It was a room 25' x 50', and, although there were thirty-two children in the school, ranging in age from six to sixteen, enrolled in grades from the first through the eighth, there was space to spare. The desks were grouped uped about a great, round stove in one end of the hall, and on days of storm and severe cold during recess the children romped in the other end. In that elevation of 7,000 feet winter temperature dropped to below zero.

When Virgie's school had been in session two or three months Mr. Jolly, the county school superintendent, came up on the switchback railway to observe the work of his new teacher. As was his custom he assumed the position of teacher during his visit, and conducted examinations in all subjects. Due to the nature of the railroad service, he arrived at noon on one day and could not depart before afternoon on the following day, so he had at Crown King ample time to do this.

His visit caused some trepidation in the heart of the eighteen-year-old teacher-

Inexperienced, and for the first time to have her work under professional scrutiny.

But the superintendent's visit progressed to its termination. Virgie, being able to observe her school children at work under the direction of another, was pleased to see how well-versed her students appeared to be in the subjects she had taught, and, in her opinion, how mannerly they all behaved. In Mr. Jolly's parting evaluation, however, he said:

"Miss Hite, I am gratified to find so much progress in this school since you have been here as teacher, but ." The superintendent had observed in the conduct of the children a certain naturalness of demeanor and behavior, so he added a criticism which plagued the teacher of 1906 just as it does the teacher of today: ". but," he continued, "you seem to have no discipline!"

Virgie laughs today over the bitter pang that criticism caused her; but, recalling the experiences of that term (and of subsequent school terms), she said, "Maybe he was right. I distinctly recall that one day Joe Eckert, a tiny tot at the time, left the instruction I was giving the primary class and wandered to the open doorway to wave to a passer-by. Admonished not to do that, he said, "That was my daddy . I can wave at him any time I want to!"

Virgie's salary at Crown King was $75.00 a month for a nine-month term. And she paid the customary $40.00 a month for room and board.

During the winter there were dances and box suppers, and, needless to say, the young teacher enjoyed the attentions of the young men, many of whom were mining engineers having their first taste of the western frontier. Yavapai County in that year of 1906 seemed full of men and very insufficiently supplied with women. In the Crown King community there were about four hundred men, most of whom were young and single, and only about thirty women, all of whom were married excepting the young teacher. Women teachers in Yavapai County today may observe many changes affecting their profession that have come about since the year 1906, not the least being the present situation in regard to the availability of male escorts.

Crown King had, as it seems every frontier community at that time, its one outstanding personality, being, in this instance, a man in his middle thirties: a graduate of Harvard University, handsome, desired; but hiding in the mountain community from a bitter past.

Although the opportunities in Yavapai County of that day were many, financial success was won only by those who combined strength with talent-those, and the lucky. This man of mystery, lacking both exceptional strength of character and good fortune, made his living as a bartender in one of the saloons; but, because of his exceptional personal charm, was included in the general social life of the community throughout his stay there.

Nevertheless, he remained a man apart, more a spectator than a part of the life that went on.

At all social functions beginning after 6:00 p.m., he wore a gentleman's full-dress suit for evening. Knowing that this was a matter of comment in a society where acceptable attire for gentlemen ranged from blue serge suits to woolen shirts and new Levis, he once explained: "Every man here," he said, letting his gaze encompass the decorous crowd that had begun to assemble, "is wearing the best clothes he has... It would be a lack

of courtesy to the ladies if I were to fail to do likewise."

It was from this gentleman of wide experience that Virgie learned a basic truth less observing natures are slow to perceive. During a gossip session with several of the "ultra-educated" in the community those present were criticizing most unkindly the western vernacular spoken by many of the group that made up the frontier mining camp . . . But the Harvard man, best educated of them all, remonstrated: "Language is primarily a means of communication," he said. "The best language is that which is the most expressive, whether or not it meets all the rules of grammar."

This was a good lesson for the young teacher, bent upon teaching "the rules."

Tragedy came to the little community when, one morning, friends found this man killed by his own hand. Beloved by all who knew him, the shadow of his personality haunts today the recollections of all those who were in Crown King in 1906.

In subsequent terms Virgie taught at Groom Creek, Granite Mountain, and Williamson Valley. In 1910 romance and marriage claimed her, she married Bob Robbins of Prescott and Clarkdale.

It was no reflection upon Virgie's teaching ability that she had a change of position with each succeeding school term; that was a characteristic of the times. Teachers wished to get around and see other places and other communities, and, when a trip of fifty or sixty miles would introduce a community whose people, economic resources, and social life might be utterly different from that of the one known before, this variety, so near at hand, was a great incentive to change. It is said that the teachers of those days were aptly described as "a mob of mobile maidens meditating matrimony." It is a fact that one who taught for more than two terms in one school was thought, by many, to be in a rut.

Although Virgie Hite Robbins' teaching career ended in the year 1910, excepting terms taught during wartime emergencies, she has a most active interest in the teaching profession of today: of her three sons (Bobby, Dick and Tommy, all well known in Prescott) two are qualified teachers and, Tommy Robbins is at this time a teacher in Prescott at the Mata Dexter School.

Fifty-three years after her exciting "first year" of teaching, Virgie remarks today, it is her wish that teachers everywhere who are now in their first year might find experiences as interesting and as rewarding as were hers in Yavapai County of Arizona Territory in 1906.