MORE REMINISCENCES

By

Meta Schooley Laws

              One of the very interesting pages of this paper is the “Twenty Years Ago” column. One reads it always with an “I’ve wandered through the village, Tom,” feeling, often wondering whether it is really only twenty years since this event, or if it can be that many years since the other occurred.

Then, too, the column calls up a procession of well-known and much-loved figures-gone, many of them, but well worthy of remembrance-and we owe the T&T a debt of gratitude for calling one and another of these to our remembrance. Truly, “To live in hearts we leave behind is not to die.”

In a recent number of this paper, Principal McKay was mentioned, and the paragraph brought a host of recollections concerning him. He certainly was an honor to the teaching profession. He had nearly completed his 33^rd year in Port Colborne school at the time of his death. One recalls how a new-comer to the then village, had the temerity to walk into Greenwood’s butcher shop with a tale of his woe about “Mac’s” treatment of his young hopeful. “Dick” Greenwood was chairman of the school board, and promptly threatened to throw the groucher into the canal if he said anything more about the matter. He didn’t.

Or perhaps the boys who loitering over their tasks and incidentally disturbing the room, may remember being sent home to saw wood. He had ideas of his own, not so prevalent then as now, as to what constituted “education.” There was an organ in his room and music was part of the daily program. His boys learned how to conduct a meeting according to parliamentary procedure. A man who will not require to be able to say at least a few words in public at some time or other, will fill a very unimportant part in life, he used to tell the boys. So, there were occasional impromptu three-minute speeches on current topics of interest during Friday afternoon session, at which one of the pupils usually presided.

He was always ready to help the younger teachers, “Ring that bell promptly to the second,” he told one of them starting work in a rural school. “The whole section likes to keep their clock by the school bell, and they ought to be able to do so.”

A question of disciple was being discussed at one of the teachers’ conventions, and Mr. McKay was appealed to. “If that were to happen?” said he, “Why –well-it just would not happen-such things are more easily prevented than cured”-and as he walked away, one of the men, a successful teacher said: “When it comes to discipline ‘Mac can do more by raising his finger than any of the rest of us could accomplish with a shot-gun.”

Port Colborne ex-pupils all remember the effect of the gentle tap on the master’s desk.

But, how they loved him-the day he was laid away, the rain did not deter the crowds who came to pay their tribute to his memory. The front yard was crowded with pupils and friends-and the road before the house as well. The pupils sang, or tried to sing, his favorite hymn, “Lead Kindly Light,” but sometimes only a few quivering voices carried the tune. Then others, stifling their sobs, would join. No one who was present could ever forget the scene.

Years afterwards, a new-comer to the town and elected to the school board, was so impressed with the hold D.W. McKay had upon the memory of the people, suggested that the west side school be named for him, and so eighteen years after his passing, the McKay memorial school was opened with fitting ceremonies, and the McKay scholarship instituted by ex-pupils of his all over the continent. His portrait hangs in the hallway and his work goes on and we who knew him best and loved him most, hopes that he knows, some way or other, that though all these years have passed his life is still an inspiration to those who have succeeded him in what he estimated the most important work possible to man or woman-the training of the young, who will fill our places tomorrow.

The Welland Tribune and Telegraph 

1 February 1927