Guide to Historical Salem

A Guide to Historical Salem - Volume 9, Number 1 -- Spring 2003

Death of Founder left Roanoke College in Shock
Elizabeth College Scrapbooks Record Charming Social Life of School
Kennerly School Was An Education Option Before Public Instruction
Local Men Sign Pledge Reflecting Morals of Early Salem
Was There Ever A Teacher Like ‘Miss Annie’?
Academy Street School Began Salem’s Public Education History
Salem Schools: An Annotated History

Death of Founder left Roanoke College in Shock

By John D. Long

“Our leader has been taken! Our friend and father has been called away! Death found a shining mark; the blow fell; the founder of Roanoke College is dead! Truly thousands have been startled by a single fall! For a mighty one has fallen.” With these melancholy words, the Roanoke Collegian in October 1876 announced a turning point in college history: the death of David Frederick Bittle.

David Bittle had been born in 1811 near Myersville, Maryland. Although he was the third generation of his family to live in America, his upbringing was completely German—in fact he learned English as a second language. Like most German Americans, the Bittles were Lutheran, and young David was so thoroughly trained in that faith that he determined at a young age to enter the ministry. He studied at the first Lutheran seminary in America, at Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, from which he was graduated in 1835. Two years later he married a Virginia girl, Louisa Krauth, and relocated to Augusta County to accept the pastorate there.

While in Staunton, Bittle became concerned about the lack of sturdy Lutheran education in Virginia. With the help of a college friend, Christopher Baughmann, Bittle established the Virginia Institute in Mount Tabor, VA. The (not yet a college) concentrated on the classics, math, and languages, with of course a good dose of Lutheran theology.

Bittle left Augusta County in 1845 to accept a pastorate in Maryland. The fledgling school was left in the hands of Baughmann, but he found it difficult to build a successful institution in so remote a location. Accordingly he began to the search for a new home; Salem was chosen because the thriving town had good resources and an enthusiastic Lutheran population. Under Baughmann’s adroit (and often under-appreciated) leadership, the Virginia Institute grew until it could be chartered as a full fledged college in 1853 under the name Roanoke. But only a few months later, Baughmann was called to be the principal of the Hagerstown Female Seminary, mysteriously cutting all ties to the institution he had built. Baughmann’s departure left a vacuum to fill; who better to fill it than her original founder, Dr. Bittle?

Bittle assumed the presidency of Roanoke College in June of 1853. Necessity dictated his priorities: more students and more money would have to be found if the school were to survive. Fortunately, Bittle was up to the task and found success in both areas. Little could he foresee the challenges coming in the next decade with the War Between the States. Against all odds, Bittle managed, through repeated appeals to the Confederate government, to keep his college open during the Civil War, when virtually all other colleges were forced to suspend operations. This seems even more a Herculean task considering that Bittle was born in a Union state. According to legend, he saved the school in another way: when Union raiders swept into Salem in December 1863, the campus was supposedly saved from destruction by a Union officer who remembered hearing and being touched by a Bittle sermon years before in Pennsylvania.

When the war ended (incidentally, it was Bittle who, white flag in hand, surrendered Salem to Union occupiers), Roanoke College again had numerous challenges to overcome. While some would have preferred a conservative approach of waiting for better days, Bittle went on the offensive, aggressively raising—and spending—money. He also dreamed of great things for his school. When it became known that the state was planning an agricultural and mechanical land-grant college in the area, Bittle lobbied to have his school win that honor. Instead, the state government decided to form a new college in Blacksburg. (Salemites who get occasionally exasperated with student neighbors, imagine this: Virginia Tech was almost in our backyard!)

In addition to his college duties, Bittle remained active in the church and community, at least until lingering heart problems slowed him in the mid-1870s. On September 25, 1876, Dr. Bittle stopped at the college to sit in on a Missionary Society meeting; he left briefly to settle some rowdy students and make his usual evening rounds of the campus. When he returned to the meeting, he had barely settled into his chair when his heart suddenly stopped. He died painlessly in a few moments, surrounded by his friends at the college to which he had dedicated his life. He was buried soon afterwards in the center circle of East Hill Cemetery.

The sudden passing of her founder briefly disoriented the college. Trustees offered the president to Dr. Stephen Repass, a Roanoke graduate (indeed the only member of the class of ’66) and faculty member. Repass declined, and after a brief search the position was offered to Dr. Thomas Dosh. He succeeded Bittle, but could never replace him.

Various plans for memorials were discussed, but no more suitable monument could be imagined than a library. Bittle Memorial Hall was dedicated in 1879 (it was originally planned to honor pioneer patriot Andrew Lewis, but the founder’s death changed the name). Today, the building houses the offices of the Lutheran Synod—a fitting tribute that would certainly please the good doctor.

David Bittle is not forgotten more than twelve decades later. The college’s main academic scholarship today still bears the name of Bittle, and every November members of the College Historical Society make a pilgrimage to East Hill Cemetery to lay a wreath on his grave.

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Elizabeth College Scrapbooks Record Charming Social Life of School

By Mary-Michael Wachur

Whoever said a picture is worth a thousand words quite possibly may have been looking at the scrapbooks and yearbooks of the students of Salem’s Elizabeth College. From 1912 through 1922, Elizabeth College provided a home, community, and an education to young ladies from in and around Salem to as far away as Indiana. During this time period several of the college girls preserved their fond memories in detailed handmade scrapbooks. Delicately crafted of felt, thread, and paper, these books (now preserved in the Roanoke College archives) tell a story of the women’s college not touched upon in standard histories. They, and the Elizabethan yearbook, show how the ladies of Elizabeth spent their days at the school, concentrating not on academics but on the charming social atmosphere. History books record the basic facts of Elizabeth’s short life, yet they fail to capture the true thoughts, emotions, and feelings of the girls who called the campus home for that fabled decade.

Affectionately known by its pupils as “Dear Old Betsy,” the college emphasized music, but included other liberal arts classes such as history and classical studies. Many of the girls had close relationships with their favorite teachers and referenced them warmly in their memory books. For instance Mrs. Adah D. Merkley, the schools piano instructor, was known around campus as “Aunt Ada.” The senior class of 1921 elected her as their most beloved teacher. Also, many of the girls referred to the school’s president, Reverend Paul A. Sieg, as “Pa.” Their close relationship with the staff stemmed no doubt from the small atmosphere of the college. In one book, a student is able to label every room in which she resided by examining one photograph of the college’s main building.

Additionally, several of the girls fondly recalled hikes to McAfee’s Knob with their professors, or noted their trips to 12 o’clock Knob in their scrapbooks. Indeed, places like McAfee’s Knob and Hanging Rock were popular destinations for adventuring and many of the warm spring and autumn days were spent enjoying the mountains. Photos reveal pleasant escapades along the mountain trails: girls picking flowers, wading through the creeks and streams, and adorning themselves with foliage. One striking image shows a student perched precariously over the edge of a cliff, finally having reached the top of a mountain. The students engaged in other outdoor fun on campus as well. In the winter, many could be found building snowmen and enjoying the crisp winter weather. In one amusing photo three girls can be seen huddled on the white front lawn of the campus eating a large piece of snow. Then, in the springtime, the college girls set out to pick tomatoes in the fields of the local growers. After church on Easter Sunday, girls celebrated their time off from classes by relaxing in the grass outside the main building and mingling with the boys of Roanoke College.

In fact, the students of the all-male Roanoke College played quite an important role in the social lives of Betsy’s girls. Included in one young lady’s scrapbook is a photo of a secluded wooded path with the caption “Lover’s Lane.” No doubt many Elizabeth girls strolled down that lane with the gentlemen of Roanoke College. Underneath a picture of the college library, a student quips sarcastically that the building was, “The most popular place on some Saturday nights.” A few pages later an ambiguous caption reads, “Boys late – unchaperoned from McLaughlin’s to Kelly’s.”

The interest the Roanoke boys held in the lives of the Elizabeth girls is reflected in their books of relics. Much of their scrapbooks are full of Roanoke memorabilia. Headlines from their school newspaper the Brakety-Ack, recitals of Maroon cheers, and the Roanoke sports schedules were among many of the items featured. One girl saved a delicate booklet tied with green and white ribbon. In it, she had cataloged several boys from Roanoke based on eye color – blue, brown, black, and gray. Another had a program to a Roanoke basketball team reception. Still another girl kept a newspaper article that gave an account of a YMCA social between students from the two colleges. The article noted that “progressive conversation was engaged in,” and was followed by a “picture contest” and refreshments. Afterwards, the article continued, “The happy couples then strolled back towards the ‘College on the Hill’ where, with many handshakes and good wishes, they bade their partners goodbye, each declaring the evening a very pleasant one.” Stories such as this one, saved for posterity, show us a charming picture of the private lives of the girls.

The experience of the Elizabeth College student changed from freshman to senior year. Hazing of the freshman girls by the sophomores was commonly practiced. One senior writes in her yearbook about her days as a freshman “Rat” recalling how her class was made to wear green ribbons in their hair “because we were green,” and how they were forced to parade in line in front of the Roanoke boys in their ugly ribbons. The freshman class typically was much larger than the graduating class. Many girls did not finish school in order to begin a family or to move back home. However, those who did stay through graduation retained their memories of Betsy fondly.

For roommates, Anna Marie “Sis” Cassell and Anne Virginia Fray, many of these memories often involved dressing up. In numerous pictures, celebrating holidays or putting on minor plays was done festively in costumes. To herald President’s Day for example, girls were photographed in front of an American flag, some of them dressed as male revolutionary soldiers. The costumes lent to the air of celebration and added gaiety to the day. In one picture of the girls play-acting, a student is dressed as “Everyone’s favorite gentleman, Wick.” Wick was adorned with all things male, including khaki pants, a cigarette, a fake beard and mustache, and a monocle. Apparently one of the most popular fellows at the college, there is little doubt that Wick appeared on more than one occasion.

Elizabeth College burnt down mysteriously over the Christmas vacation of 1921. Ironically, yet with a sense of loss, one student recalled the last days at the school before leaving for the holiday. In her scrapbook, she includes a small gift card on which reads: “When all are fast asleep, and having dreams galore, in your kimono slyly slip down to 2-0-4.” The card refers to a midnight oyster dinner to celebrate the holidays. Although its title, “The Last Feed at Betsy,” referred to the end of classes before Christmas, the words took on a deeper meaning after the college burnt. It truly was the last feed at Betsy. She along with other girls cataloged the gruesome photos of the hollowed out main hall as well as newspaper clippings detailing the fire.

The fire marked the end of Elizabeth College’s presence in Salem. Although the students of that year finished out their semester in the classrooms of Roanoke College, the College closed its doors for good in March 1922. However, her students’ thoughts of the college will live on. The memories of life at “Dear Old Betsy” will be forever preserved in the yearbooks, scrapbooks, and writings of its alumnae.

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Kennerly School Was An Education Option Before Public Instruction

Long before the appearance of public schools in America, families had to rely on other means of education for their children. Either children were taught at home by their parents or through their church; more than a few were left uneducated altogether. Others might be apprenticed in a trade and so receive a limited education aimed at making a living. But for a few in the upper middle class and above, there was the option of the small private school operated by a professional teacher. Here one could be instructed in the “Three R’s” as well as history, classic languages, and moral education.
Salem, as the largest town in the Roanoke Valley, boasted several such private academies in her early years. Little is known of them or their students or teachers, but a letter survives from one such academy: Augustine Kennerly’s, which was located on the southeastern corner of Main and Union Street. The letter, dated 1825 and addressed to the Dingledine and Stoutamire families who lived east of town on Mason’s Creek, solicits students to return for a new term and explains why some may not have shown much improvement:

Fellow Citizens,

The time of my servitude as Master Instructor of your children having nearly expired and being desirous of serving you again, I am once more a candidate for your patronage.

Whether I have merited the confidence heretofore reposed in me by you, I am unable to tell, but if allowed to speak of myself on the present occasion, I feel conscious of having discharged my duty with faithfulness, and with as much ability and attention as I was capable of, ever making the improvement of your children and their understanding what they have studied, my first, and greatest care.

Perhaps it may be said that some of my pupils have not improved fast enough , or, as much as others for the time; to this, I claim the privilege of replying, that the capacities of the human mind are not all alike, and with children, some are more susceptible of rapid improvement than others, not withstanding the same care and attention being paid to them.

Should I meet with your approbations for the next ensuing session, which my intended application will shortly determine, I beg leave here to assure you that no pains nor effort shall be spared in facilitating the improvement of your children; by, Gentlemen, yours with respect.

Augustine Kennerly
Salem 5 Nov. 1825

One student who likely responded to this letter was Susan Dingledine, who would later become the wife of John McCauley, and the mother of local historian William McCauley (who preserved the letter, now in the archives of the Salem Museum). Kennerly disappears from the historical record soon after this, but we know of one other of his achievements: in 1856 he published a novel entitled Heiresses of Fotheringay, set in the fabled mansion of Montgomery County, and so seems to be Salem’s earliest published author.

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Local Men Sign Pledge Reflecting Morals of Early Salem

Local historian and county clerk William McCauley was an inveterate paper saver with excellent instincts for what future generations would find of interest. Below, from the McCauley papers, is a short pledge reflecting the moralistic tone of Victorian Salem. Unfortunately, we can’t know how diligently the signatories honored their pledge.

This writing or obligation is for the mutual Protection of all of the undersigned names from the baneful effects of Spirituous liquors.

That we the undersign do mutually agree to pay the full sum of twenty five dollars apiece if either one of us drinks any spirituous liquors for the space of two years dating from the first day of January 1856 and all of the undersign that breaks this pledge shall pay unto them that are faithful to the pledge twenty five dollars to be distributed equall between all that may remain faithful but if all of the undersigned should break the pledge then each one of us bind ourselves to pay into the school fund the sum of twenty five dollars for the benefit of the poor children that go to school at the McCauley’s schoolhouse. The above is strictly to be adhered to by each of the undersigned with out it is in a case of sickness and it is the opinion of a physician that it is absolutely necessary given under our hands and seal this the first of January eighteen hundred and fifty six.

AS Dulaney
James J Houtz
Henry Anderson
Richard A Dulaney
Silas Masters
Charles H Dulaney
James Shartzer
William McCauley

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Was There Ever A Teacher Like ‘Miss Annie’?

By Sara Ahalt

The backbone of any school system is the teachers; just ask them. Certainly one of the strongest bits of backbone the Salem schools have ever known was Annie McConkey.

Known simply as "Miss Annie" by more than one generation of students and folks around town, she carved a niche for herself that was unique. Miss Annie would never go unnoticed or unappreciated. Although Miss Annie was born in Fincastle in 1887, her family moved to Salem when she was five. She attended Salem schools, graduated from Salem High School and then went on to attend Randolph-Macon Women's College.

Her first teaching assignment was at Pinedale School in Roanoke County. In the fall of 1907, she began teaching at Salem High at the Academy Street location and would stay there through all its changes of name (Salem High to Andrew Lewis) and location (Academy St. to Broad St. to College Ave.) for the next fifty years.

In 1907 Salem High had a staff of three teachers who served 65 students and, by the way, earned $60 a month. When Salem High published its first yearbook in 1910, Miss Annie's photograph revealed a tall, striking young woman described by the students as "an efficient and popular teacher." She would have needed to be efficient as her teaching load included physics, chemistry, French, Latin and algebra.

Alfreda Peel, a member of the Class of 1910, defined the faculty of Salem High as "The rock, the wave and the gull. Miss Jones (the principal) is the rock; Miss Armstrong (the other teacher), the wave i.e. always beating against the rock; Miss McConkey, the gull i.e. always agreeing with both." Miss Annie would make the transition from "gull" to "rock" in fairly rapid fashion.

Apart from her involvement in school activities, Miss Annie began to make her mark in the community, or as much of a mark as a young lady could at that time. In 1914 Governor Henry Carter Stuart appointed Miss Annie and Mrs. John Bushnell, also of Salem, as Virginia's representatives to the Canadian National Exhibition. Whatever the duties as representatives might have been, they were overshadowed by the social events the ladies enjoyed.

Later on, Miss Annie became part of a movement to preserve the headquarters of the old Roanoke Navigation Company, dating from the early 1800s. Known as "The Castle," the imposing brick building stood at the corner of Main and Union. Miss Annie and others felt it would make an excellent library or museum. Unfortunately, the preservation movement failed; the Castle was torn down, and a filling station was built on the site.

By the early 1920s school enrollment had grown to the point that Miss Annie could settle down into her real subject niche - math teacher.

Students' perceptions of a teacher can be a tricky proposition. Some students can genuinely evaluate a teacher's value to them by the end of a school year. Others need time and distance to really appreciate what a teacher has meant to them. The Class of 1910 willed Miss Annie "our love and thanks for the time and patience she has spent on us."

When the 1935 Andrew Lewis yearbook was dedicated to Miss Annie, she had students and colleagues sign her copy. There were many expressions of heartfelt appreciation as well as a few cryptic ones. Anne Taylor (Wiley) Nimmo Oakey wrote "With your help maybe all the blanks can be filled." On a more typical note, Leonard Hale, who went on to become principal of Cave Spring High School, wrote, "Here's lots of luck to one of the best teachers yet." He recalls she might have been better than he realized. When Roanoke College forced him to take trigonometry, he easily "aced" the course.

Even with the passage of 40 years or more since being in her classroom, most of Miss Annie's former students will offer one or the other of two definite statements when first asked to remember her as a teacher. "She scared me to death" and "She was a great math teacher." The two comments fall neatly along gender lines. Girls were much more intimidated by her than boys.

As they added further comments, however, all agreed that good teaching and intimidation were integral to her teaching persona, especially in the later years of her career. Betty Sherrard related that Miss Annie was the first math teacher she could truly understand. W.T. Norris recalled that Miss Annie did not put up with any foolishness and could stare down a student with ease. Tom Coffman, whose parents were teachers, did not feel intimidated by her, but he could never break her of the habit of calling him "Timmy."

A large measure of the fear factor was, of course, the stories passed down by older students. Like many of her contemporaries, Miss Annie used student memorization as a teaching strategy. The most terrifying event for a trig student was the class period when one had to write (from memory) 57 identities in twelve minutes or face failing the course. No matter what approaches to teaching she took, she held her students to her standards, and they were very high.

Miss Annie had another quality her former students agreed on; she much preferred the boys to the girls. Wilbur Mann recalled she was "partial to the boys." Betty Sherrard said she was "crazy about the boys." Warren Moorman told a story about the day he and his wife Betty were married. At their reception Miss Annie came up to the newlyweds, said, “Hi, Betty,” to the bride and then buttonholed the groom for twenty minutes before moving on.

There is a persistent story, actually promulgated by Miss Annie herself, that she coached the boys' basketball team. So far no print material has emerged to confirm that story, but speculation is that she may have done so very early in her career. In the early yearbooks from the 1910s, basketball players are pictured, but no coach is pictured or mentioned. Many of her former students do remember her enthusiasm for the football and basketball teams. Before her retirement Miss Annie's doctor barred her from attending games, much to her dismay.

Well into her career Miss Annie took on additional duties at Andrew Lewis. She became assistant principal in charge of attendance, and she became the cafeteria manager. Dennie Denison worked the candy counter under Miss Annie's direction for two years. He remembered her as one of his favorites and as an "astute" lady. The 1942 yearbook pictured her at her cafeteria post and noted that she kept people and things in order. “Outsiders," the yearbook reads, "always compliment our food." On days when spaghetti was served, Miss Annie was known to poke through the noodles to make sure no more than two meatballs had been dished up.

Peggy Hurt, Dematris Meador and Ann Thomason share the distinction of having been students of Miss Annie who became her teaching colleagues. All three had a great respect and admiration for her and felt she did not differentiate much in her treatment of students and teachers. Ann Thomason recalled Miss Annie saying, "All right, people, move along now," when traffic in the hall was too slow to suit her. The order applied to both the students and the teachers.

Miss Annie did not exist in a school-only vacuum. She was a well-known member of the community. In September 1943 a column in the Times-Register titled "Odd and Sometimes Even" called attention to "three of the best teachers in the state": Annie McConkey, Carrie M. Pedigo and John Henry Snapp.

While acknowledging Miss Annie's remarkable grasp of all levels of mathematics, her memory for names and faces, her sparkle and zest, the writer's main point was the strength of character she and the others possessed. In the turmoil of the world war, the writer took comfort in the fact that Miss Annie, Mrs. Pedigo and Mr. Snapp were still there day after day "kind and firm and tough-minded, with their eyes still on the fundamentals."

In another column dated February 29, 1953, the writer reports on a visit to Miss Annie to tap her amazing knowledge of Salem history. Responding to some questions about Langhorne Place, Miss Annie explained that Judge Keister's house was standing on the site of the Langhornes' old barn and that the Glenmary Apartments occupied what had been the Shanks' garden. After the visit the writer wished for the power to adequately describe Miss Annie to the rest of the world. The three generations of students who had known her, he wrote, needed no description. Perhaps the fact that she received mail addressed to "Miss Annie, Salem, Va." would have provided a clue to those who did not know her.

Rome Tuttle is one who knew Miss Annie completely separate from school connections. Rome grew up in and still lives in the house next door to Miss Annie's house on W. Main St. She confirmed reports that Miss Annie loved her flower garden. Jasmine and japonica provided color in late winter and early spring. Jonquils and hyacinths and other old-fashioned flowers as Miss Annie called them burst forth in later spring. But her favorites, Rome remembered, were the day lilies of high summer.

Ann Lynch also knew her apart from school. She recalled Miss Annie as very ladylike and conservative with a dry sense of humor. "She was very demanding of herself," Ann added.

When the Salem Rotary Club decided to bestow an award for "meritorious service to the community," Miss Annie was the first recipient. The award coincided with her announced retirement. In remarks at the award presentation, she said, "I'm completing 50 years of teaching and 70 years of living. I'm proud of both and have enjoyed both."

Reflecting on her long-time service, she added, "The richest compensation of my work has been the joy of watching the boys and girls I taught develop and assume their places of leadership in the community."

As it happened, Miss Annie had to put her retirement plans on hold. The next fall a math teacher became too ill to teach, and Miss Annie returned to her beloved Andrew Lewis for one last semester. Then she was free to enjoy her retirement. She died unexpectedly in 1962 at the age of 75.

Annie McConkey was memorable in a number of contexts, but her role as a teacher was foremost. She demanded the best her students had to offer, and for the most part, she got the best from them.Salem had not seen the last of William Averell. Only six months later, his men would again pass through the county, this time as part of General David Hunter's forces retreating from Lynchburg. This time, the Confederacy would get a victory in the Battle of Hanging Rock

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Academy Street School Began Salem’s Public Education History

The provisions of Virginia’s 1869 Reconstruction charter, the Underwood Constitution, required the formation of public schools throughout Virginia. Prior to this, public schools if they existed, were haphazardly managed and barely adequate. The excerpts below from Norwood C. Middleton’s Salem: A Virginia Chronicle, documents the founding and early history of Salem’s early public schools.

As rich in private schools as the town might have been, education began to take on real meaning for most boys and girls only upon establishment in 1870 of the public school system. Professor Luther Holland, who had launched the boy’s prep school as a division of Roanoke College the year before, became the first superintendent of Roanoke County schools September 22, 1870. One of his first duties was to organize boards of district school trustees, and for Salem District he recruited James Chalmers, chairman, Marshall P. Frantz, clerk, and the Rev. William L. Hatcher. Chalmers was a retired cotton broker and was to become mayor and later president of the Farmers National Bank; Frantz, a school teacher, who was to become county school superintendent; and Hatcher, a clergyman/ farmer, who was elected chairman of the county-wide school board the same year.

School buildings were a top priority for the Salem trustees, and within 13 months, two were in operation. For black children, the trustees on November 5, 1870 paid for a lot running from Union to Chapman streets and operated a school on a portion of it, at what today if the northwest corner of Chapman and School alley. For white children, the four room brick building on Academy Street was leased in 1871, from what was by then the Salem Male and Female Academy.

Classes began in the brick Academy September 30th 1872, and in the frame building on Chapman Street October 1, 1872. Textbooks had been approved and consisted of Holmes Readers and Spellers, Maury’s Geography, Davies’ Arithmetic, and Harvey’s Grammar.

A school census had enumerated 736 white and 546 black children of school age in the Salem District, but there were only 115 white pupils and 135 blacks enrolled that first year. Here is the roster of teachers and their pupil load: At “School No. 1, Brick Academy.” Teaches-Robert G. Kiser, male department, 52 enrolled, 43 average attendance; Mrs. M. Jeter, female department 37 enrolled, 30 average; Mrs. M.M. Armstrong, assistant, 26 enrolled, 20 average. At “School No. 2, Salem Colored.” Teachers- Samuel C. Windsor, principal and Walter Scott, assistant, 135 enrolled, 105 average. In the 13 schools of the Salem district, fewer than half the 1282 children of school age were enrolled and attendance was low. Many whites obviously continued studies at their private schools.

The old Academy Street building underwent remodeling in 1876, and six years later there were 281 pupils in classes under seven teachers. Crowded conditions and structural deterioration worsened the next few years, prompting the council to try to broaden the town tax base through territorial enlargement in 1886 in order to produce revenue for a new school.

Early the next year the council voted to use anticipated new revenues from the new residents for “more commodious and better suited” school buildings, only to find itself sand-bagged in May when the General Assembly, to the surprise and consternation of local officials, amended the Salem charter to keep the town line where it had been. Most members of council were furious. Shortly thereafter , two Salem school trustees, John M. Oakey and W. M. Graybill, notified council that the old Academy building had been condemned by Superintendent Holland, that there were insufficient funds to build a new one, but that the town could legally create a separate school district within its corporate limits and levy a tax for a new building.

Two days after the Town of Salem School District came into existence, the council decided to put a new building on the Academy Street lot and in July bought the property it had been leasing. The old Academy was torn down and work started on a new eight-room building in September. It was completed in February 1890.

At this “Graded School No. 1,” a graded course of study, uniform throughout the county, was instituted in 1893-4, and in 1894 two advanced grades were added, creating a three year high school at Salem. The new grades and an enrollment that had reached 422 dictated construction in 1895 of a second building to the west of the 1890 original. Its completion was celebrated at outdoor exercises featuring the raising of a 7-by-14 foot US flag, oratory and a band concert.

Salem High School graduated its first class of six seniors May 28, 1896, with diplomas going to Nina Holland, Claudine Kizer, Mildred Willson, Nellie Oakey, Hugh Carter and Marvin Altizer. A fourth high school grade was added in September 1900, in which Virgil and Cicero were added to the Latin curriculum and trigonometry to the math. Seniors undertook concentrated reviews in grammar, U.S. history and arithmetic, and additional work in English; and German was shifted from the second and third to the third and fourth years.

The Chapman Street building also felt the pressure of the increasing number of black pupils, and the Salem trustees erected a six-room frame school in 1890-1891 on a 75-by-76 foot lot on the west side of Water Street (so named for the branch that paralleled it near Main Street), now the southwest corner of South Broad at School Alley. “Graded School A,” its official name, had an enrollment of 258 in 1895, and John H. Duckwilder, a Salem native, was principal.

By 1900 there were 55 students in the high school, 610 in Graded School No. 1 for whites and 268 in Graded School A for blacks.

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Salem Schools: An Annotated History

By John Long

From her earliest days, Salem has made the education of her children a top priority. From one-room log schoolhouses with private tutors to today’s modern classroom with internet connections and satellite dishes, dozens of schools and hundreds of teachers have made this goal a reality. Below is a partial list of schools, arranged in rough chronological order, which have served the Salem community through the years, beginning with private academies and proceeding to the public schools.

PRIVATE SCHOOLS: Research into the early private schools is not always easy. The record of many schools may only be found in a single surviving mention, and since names change frequently, some mentions may be contradictory. Although this list reflects the best effort of research, many schools are surely missing. Space will not allow the inclusion of modern preschools or daycare facilities, nor of the growing number of home schools.

Kennerly School: perhaps the first school in town, Augustine Kennerly’s institution opened about 1824 at the corner of Limestone (Union) and Main.

Gardner School: Little is known of this log schoolhouse. Contemporaneous with Kennerly’s and located nearby, the instructor was a Major Gardner.

Salem (Presbyterian) Academy: Located on and giving the name to Academy Street, this church school was founded in the early 1830s along with the Salem Presbyterian congregation. The sanctuary was on the top floor, with the classrooms below. Mr. Roswell Tenney, the church’s first pastor, seems to have been the teacher during his tenure. The school, unusual for the day, appears to have been co-ed at least for a time. When the existing Presbyterian sanctuary was constructed in 1851 the school moved there, and the old building was reborn as the Salem Academy. It would continue operations as a private school under various names until the early 1870s, when the advent of free public schools made such education largely redundant. The building was then leased and later purchased to serve as the public school until the construction of the larger brick Academy Street School in 1890.

McCauley School: Soon after politician, surveyor, and farmer John McCauley moved to Salem in the 1830s, he apparently opened a school at his father-in-law’s farm, Dingledale, on the banks of Mason Creek. Alumni of this school include hotelier F. J. Chapman and McCauley’s son William, the future historian, who graduated to teach at the school and later at Roanoke College.

Jeter School: Martha Sagendorf Jeter came to Salem to teach at the Academy Street school but was dismissed because she was married—a forbidden state for a female teacher of that day. Soon afterwards she opened a school in her home about where Salem Ice Cream parlor is today. She provided an education specializing in Latin and Greek (both of which she read fluently) and preparing both sexes for entry to the finest schools in the state. A Lula Jeter also ran an 1887 school out of the Presbyterian Church.

Various other private schools: Salem seemed to be well supplied with educational opportunities. History records several other 19th century private schools, but often only in passing references or surviving mentions in newspapers. Mrs. Frederick Johnston operated a girls’ school, sometimes known as Longwood Seminary and later the Female Day and Boarding School, on Main Street above Bernard Pitzer’s store. McCauley mentions a “Village School” operating intermittently out of the old Baptist Church building in today’s East Hill Cemetery (it was also in this building that Roanoke College began her life in Salem). A Nancy Hall ran a school at the corner of Alabama and Calhoun. A Classical and English School operated by Messrs. Lacy and Anderson existed in the 1850s, while James Wilson ran another male preparatory school. A Salem Male Academy appears on Market Street by 1854, but it may have been associated with the Salem Academy mentioned above, which by then was operating as a girls’ school (perhaps the early experiment in coeducation had been abandoned?). Also on Market was a school run by Carrie Camden. Mrs. A. E. Randolph and her sister Kate Edgar oversaw a “select school for young ladies,” as did Octavia Light and Etta Craddock about the same time. Fannie Hanna taught a boarding school for boys, and Roanoke College professor Luther Holland was principal of a boy’s prep school, presumably to feed the enrollment of the college. Anna Clayton Logan and Jean Dandridge Logan ran yet another female school out of the Episcopal church building. Janette and Claudine Ferguson operated a school on High Street as late as 1905. Finally, there is evidence of a private African American school active soon after the Civil War. With such a plethora of schools, it is little wonder that in 1866 the local paper bragged “In truth, Salem can boast of as fine schools as any town its size.”

Salem Female Seminary: The Bell house on Broad Street is probably the only home still standing which served as a 19th Century private school. Mattie and Emmett Guy opened their Female Seminary in 1891, educating many prominent Salem girls and out of town boarders (including at least one from Mexico). Although the school boasted as many as 100 students at its peak, by the end of the 1890s it had closed and the Guys had left town. Like many of its peers, the Seminary no doubt fell victim to the increasing popularity of public schools. As the Salem Times-Register remarked in 1901: “A system of public schools such as we have in Salem has sounded the death knell of the once numerous private schools of the town…the public school, having proven its superiority, has survived and steadily grown, while the private schools have passed into innocuous desuetude.”

North Cross: That is not to say that private schools had disappeared forever. In 1944, Mrs. Howard Butts assembled a group of Salem parents interested in forming a private school—in part to avoid the scourge of polio then threatening public schools. Margaret Northcross was hired soon after as instructor, and she remained involved with the school until 1979. Classes, originally first grade but later K-3, were held in the basement of the Butts home until the next year, when the school purchased New Castle, the old Griffin home on Union (now Old Salem Furnishings). There they continued until the early 60s, when a merger with Roanoke’s Eaton School allowed for a move to Colonial Avenue and an expansion in classes. By 1963, the school had moved to its present location on Rt. 419 and offered an exemplary K-12 education. North Cross remains one of the best private schools in this part of the state.

Berean Christian Academy: Operating out of Berean Baptist Church (today’s Lakeside Baptist on Dalewood), this school opened in 1975 with a K-12 curriculum. Unfortunately, the church experienced financial difficulties by 1990 and was forced to suspend operations of the school.

Salem Montessori School: Valerie Vanderhooven opened this school in 1993 with 12 students in a rented space; today the school enrolls 78 students, ages six weeks to 3rd Grade, in a converted house on Roanoke Blvd. The curriculum is built around the theories of Dr. Maria Montessori that children learn best in a self-directed, spontaneous environment that embraces the whole child and encourages the natural process for acquiring knowledge.

PUBLIC SCHOOLS: This list concentrates on schools within the current city limits of Salem. Deliberately left out are schools such as Fort Lewis or the Glenvar schools, that are part of our community but in the county system. Some early public schools, usually one-room buildings that only served for a year or two, are not included.

Academy Street School: Prior to constitutional changes in 1869, local schools in Virginia were haphazardly managed. With the establishment of a true statewide school system in 1870, the age of modern public education began. For Roanoke County, public education commenced on September 9, 1870, with Luther Holland as superintendent. One of the first tasks of the new system was to locate and equip school buildings, and no surprise that the school board elected to use the existing brick Academy as Salem’s first public school. But by 1890 the need for a new structure was evident, and the first building of the Academy Street School was constructed with an impressive mansard tower high above the town. In 1895, a second building was added adjacent to the first to serve the upper grades. Academy Street School remained in operation until 1977. Today the buildings are the Academy Court apartments and are listed on the National Register of Historic Places.

Graded School A/ Roanoke County Training School: While white students studied on Academy Street, Salem’s African American students were provided much less commodious facilities in the segregated neighborhoods south of Main. Salem’s first black school was a small frame building on Chapman opened in 1872. This building, usually called School No. 2, was replaced by 1890 by a six-room frame building on Water Street (South Broad) referred to as Graded School A or simply Salem Colored. Later, the name was changed to Roanoke County Training School to reflect the somewhat condescending vocational education that was in vogue for blacks. The school remained in operation until Carver was built in 1940, and afterwards served as a canning facility for the county.

Broad Street School (Salem High): By 1911, Salem had far too many students to fit into the old Academy Street school. A new Salem High School was constructed on Broad Street for the 1912 school year. It was not long before the town had outgrown the new school as well, but it was a disastrous fire in 1931 that spurred the construction of a new school. While students finished their studies in various temporary classrooms provided by the college, churches, or the courthouse, construction of Andrew Lewis began. When it was completed, repairs on the Broad Street school turned it into an elementary school, which it remained until 1977. In 1983, the building was adapted to serve as City Hall.

Conehurst: The Conehurst school opened in 1932 as a four room primary school (proudly hailed as “fireproof”), and was expanded in 1951 and 1963. When Salem seceded from the Roanoke County system in 1983, a debate ensued over closing one elementary school, either Carver or Conehurst. Much to the chagrin of students, parents and teachers, Conehurst was marked for closing after the 1982-3 school year. Today the building is still in the service of education as the National College of Business and Technology.

Andrew Lewis: After the tragic fire of 1931 gutted Salem High’s Broad Street building, a debate began over building a new high school. A site on College Avenue was chosen and construction began after a lengthy debate on how to finance school construction in the midst of a depression. When funding could not be found for both a gym and an auditorium, the Salem public raised $22,000 to pay for the auditorium independently. Classes began in September 1933. Andrew Lewis would continue to serve as the local high school until 1977, and remains the middle school today. Only weeks ago the city began construction of a new wing to bring the school into the 21st Century.

Carver School: By the mid 1930s, the African American Training School on Water Street was obviously inadequate to meet the educational needs of a growing population. Principal T. N. Williams and Superintendent Roland E. Cook began to lobby for a new black school. After a rancorous debate over where to locate it, construction began on George Washington Carver School at Water and 4th Streets in 1939. When it opened the next year, Carver was considered one of the finest black schools in the state, with a gym, cafeteria, auditorium, library, home economics department, and industrial arts classroom. Carver served all grades of students throughout Roanoke County (and occasionally adjacent counties). With the integration of schools in the 1960s, the need for Carver as a segregated school ended. The building was converted to Salem Intermediate School in 1966; when the new Salem High was built in 1977 and Andrew Lewis became the middle school, Carver readopted its old name and became an elementary. But the storied history of the school and the close-knit community it served is recorded through the Carver Reunion Association and a History Room in the school.

West Salem: The valley’s growing population after WWII necessitated construction of new school facilities. West Salem Elementary opened on Bruffey Street in 1951 with a modern, 16 classroom floor plan.

South Salem: The original South Salem school was a turreted frame building on Mount Regis (sometimes called Development Hill School). That school was retired about 1911 and replaced by a brick structure on Central Avenue. It remained in use until a new elementary school was built, whereupon Central Avenue became a county special education center. The school was eventually razed and the Cardinal Criminal Justice Academy stands on the site now. The current South Salem Elementary on Carolyn Ave. opened in 1964 and at the time was considered one of the most innovative schools in the state. Not only was it the first air conditioned school in the county system, but the circular design was considered the cutting edge of educational architecture.

East Salem: By the early 60s, the school population had grown to such an extent that students had to attend Broad Street Elementary in shifts. To alleviate this overcrowding, East Salem opened in mid-school year, January 1962. The 25 classroom building could accommodate almost 700 pupils. Across the street, a vocational school opened the next year, soon named for superintendent Arnold R. Burton. It remains in operation, but still as part of the county system, not Salem’s.

Salem High School: While Salem declared independent city status in 1968, it would not be until 1983 that Salem would withdraw from the county system. In the meantime, the two localities operated under a cooperative school arrangement. Salem prepared for independence by building a new, state-of-the-art high school in West Salem to replace the venerable old Andrew Lewis. After a rollicking debate over whether to carry the name Andrew Lewis over to the new school, Salem High opened for the 1977-78 school year. It remains the capstone of Salem’s six school system today, a school system hailed statewide as a model for exemplary education.

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