Former Cayce resident honors schools’ history after demolition

(Editor’s Note: the following was submitted by Jana Hansard, who grew up in the Fulton County, Cayce area community, and now lives north of Cayce, just across the Hickman County line, in light of the recent demolition of the Cayce school.)

“The Eyes of Cayce”

Today my heart was saddened while I looked upon the last moments of one of the South’s great old ladies as she cast her eyes around for one last gaze before she collapsed in a most indelicate heap beneath the merciless claws of a diesel-fed dragon.

This fine old lady has taken hundreds and hundreds of children into her arms, to protect and nourish them through their early years. Every day, she watched as school busses deposited her charges to her welcoming back doors. She was ever true to the song written about her…..

“The eyes of Cayce are upon you,

All the live-long day.

The eyes of Cayce are upon you;

You cannot get away.

She will always be so loyal,

so faithful, and so true.

The eyes of Cayce are upon you,

Until the day is through.”

She cared for my parents and my peers’ parents, seeing them out of her doors as they, and others before them, embarked upon their journey toward adulthood.

At that time she cared for the older classes, as the County High School.

I saw pictures of my parents and most of the parents of my peers, hanging on her library walls.
The Adams and their vast extended family, Atwills, Browns, Curlins, Cardwells, Jones, Mosses, Kennedys, Lusks, Myatts, Lilikers, Owens, Hills, Stallins, McClanahans, Tuckers, and so many more families were there.

She loved her children and everyone was represented. She even had her eyes upon my two nephews for a time.

By the time I came along, she was overseeing the primary grades.

I remember with fondness spending eight good years within the walls that this dear old lady made home, a sanctuary to all of us, quite literally. I remember gathering in the girls’ locker room, huddling with my friends as we sat there during air raid drills. We didn’t ever have an actual air raid, but I do sadly remember November 22, 1963, when we learned that President John F. Kennedy had been assassinated. That was a long afternoon. The eyes of Cayce must have shed some tears along with her charges.

I don’t recall any tornado warnings back then, but if there were, we would have been found sheltering within those safe walls.

Second grade was the largest room with the tiniest teacher, Miss Christine Jones.

She engaged us in the production of Plaster of Paris statues in the shapes of birds.

Some were red robins while others took the shape of Blue Jays or Mocking Birds. We painted these In the appropriate colors, guided by Miss Christine. A classmate who I spoke with recently told me that she found some of her statues among her late mother’s memorabilia. I am sure there were other ventures in that art form but I don’t remember what they were.

I do recall lunchtime, walking with my classmates in a generally single line to reach the lunchroom, where we gathered around the fountain to wash our hands before passing through the line to pick up lunch trays filled with various items.

Most liked were usually Friday’s servings of hamburgers and French fries, followed with no-bake chocolate oatmeal cookies, and either white or chocolate milk. Sometimes, there was even pizza of a sort.

After leaving lunch, there was recess.

The fastest way out of the building was to go up on “the boys’ side”, which led you past Mr. Clark’s boiler room.

Whether he lived there or not, I don’t think we ever really knew, but he always had the doors open every morning, performed janitorial duties during the day, closed the doors in the afternoon, and managed to keep the heaters going for the classrooms during the winter months.

Recess was always outside during good weather. How the teachers kept up with all of us I don’t know. The eyes of Cayce were upon us, I guess.

Kids were all over the place, but mostly I remember the shade of a huge old oak tree on the hillside out back. The roots of that massive old tree made pretty good places to sit in the cool shade on those warmer days of late Spring.

Even the Monkey Bars and swings were protected by the long branches that reached out to offer shelter from the sun’s rays. Sadly, the eyes of Cayce must have seen this old friend uprooted as together they faced one last storm that left destruction in its path.

There was the foundation of an older building there, too. My father told me that was where the Industrial Arts building had stood when he was in the care of the Old Lady. He had built a couple of pieces of furniture. To this day, I still have the first thing he built—-a three-legged milk stool.

He also remembered that there was a stables at one point where the teachers stalled their horses during the school day, but all traces of that building were gone before I ever walked upon the grounds and cars replaced horses and buggies.

Mrs. Letha Mae Luten had the most unusual vehicle I had ever seen when I was young, a Lincoln Continental. The back doors opened backward and sometimes were referred to as “suicide doors”. The back window even rolled down!

I wonder what the eyes of Cayce thought about that peculiar vehicle.

When recess was over we knew, because some lucky child got to ring the bell whose rope was pulled from inside Mrs. Letha Mae’s Sixth Grade classroom window.

One of the nicest memories I have was when Mr. Harold McClellan (father of Shirley McClellan Sharp) would sometimes appear on an afternoon with treats for all of my classmates. There was always at least one selection of fruit, along with other goodies that he bought at one of the local country stores. We all looked forward to his visits.

We also looked forward to being treated to a trip to the “Film Room” down in the basement. We watched a lot of Disney movies Iike Old Yeller, Savage Sam, and Pollyanna. Other films were of a more serious, educational nature. One such film was about snakes. I have a terrible dislike for snakes, bordering on a phobia actually. One scene in this film was of a man walking through a swampy area and getting bitten by a Copperhead or Water Moccasin. I remember when that snake suddenly sprang at him; I screamed like a girl!!!

Mrs. Easley, sitting beside me, thought that was funny and she had a good laugh.

Occasionally, we got to take a walk across the green expanse of lawn, down to the corner where there was a monument honoring Cayce Jones, the famous railroad engineer.

From there we would cross the road and go over to a little cafe that stood beside the Texaco gas station. Inside the cafe, we filled the booths and were treated to ice cream cones.

My father played basketball under the watchful eyes of Cayce. I remember him often telling us how other teams used to love to play tournaments at Cayce because that highly-polished floor was always in superlative condition. (As a side note, just this week I was in a restaurant and there was a group of older gentlemen enjoying a meal at a nearby table. I couldn’t help but hear one say to the others that there would be no more basketball games at Cayce. Then, each began reminiscing about playing ball there.)

Even during my time within those walls, one had better not step onto that floor with “street shoes”!

Well, there was one exception……Graduation! I guess the adults figured that, by the time you got to that point, you should know how to conduct yourself in a manner that would not “scuff” the floor. The eyes of Cayce must have watched with approval as her children walked upon those floors one last time before moving on.

Cayce had her baseball diamond, too. It was down the hill and towards the farthest point from the school. There were a few younger trees growing in a winding line over there. I will never forget the sight of seeing Danny Owens and Jim Moss being chased by a couple of Blue-jays who thought the boys were out to get the nest they had built in one of those trees. Those boys found a higher speed in their legs that day! I suspect the eyes of Cayce saw it too, and they must have held a glint as she giggled along with me.

I remember when integration came to Cayce. I don’t recall that there were any problems.

We were just country kids with no cares, except to make good grades and have some fun every day.

Color or sexual orientation weren’t even in the picture.

I deeply admired my Seventh Grade teacher, Ms. Betty Davis, who later married a Mr. Easley. She loved teaching. We knew she meant business, but she also knew how to have a good time in class.

I also remember a certain teacher who did love his onions. I mean, he really, really loved his onions. His class did not like them so much.

One Spring day, some of us hatched a plan while sitting on the terraced front lawn and noticing so many wild onions growing. We put our plan into action. Everybody chipped in a little money and one of us was designated to purchase the largest bottle of mouthwash our funds could buy.
The next day, after lunch recess and before he came into the room, the bottle was placed on the teacher’s desk along with a bunch of freshly picked wild onions. We thought it was a great joke; he did not! At all!! I think he came close to putting the whole class in detention. I guess the eyes of Cayce were upon us that day and quietly she laughed along with us.

My love of reading was encouraged by the amount of books in the Library which was under the care of Ms. Sue Shuff.
I wonder how many books the eyes of Cayce saw come through her doors and read by the students.

This love was even furthered with the arrival of the Bookmobile every month. I have always loved the smell of old books. The Bookmobile had its own odor and, to this day, when I have the pleasure of entering an old Bookmobile, my mind is taken back to the days at Cayce.

Music also had a place at Cayce. Behind the stage were at least two small rooms where we could learn to play various instruments, particularly piano. For six of my eight years, I took lessons from Mrs. Annabelle Newton. There was another piano teacher, but I don’t recall her name. We did have a small school band.

But, as time marches on, progress has a way of looking at things and making changes. And so the eyes of Cayce one day looked on sadly as the last of her children walked down the back steps and onto the waiting yellow busses for a final journey. Her eyes must have misted over as she contemplated no more laughing, eager voices of youth to be heard within her walls again.

Now and again, someone would hold some sort of social function within those walls, but it was never the same. A few of her older alumni would pass through her doors from time to time for a reunion meal. At one time, she even hosted a few jamborees.

But, December 10, 2021, saw the last gallant effort she had with Nature.

And Nature was NOT a good, old southern lady that night. She came as an F-4 category tornado, with no mercy for the populace of Cayce, Kentucky.

Nature left in her wake a town full of desolation. People lost homes, businesses were destroyed, and Cayce School was stripped down to basically a skeleton.

Hers weren’t the only eyes who streamed unbidden tears that night and the following days.

Those of us who live around Cayce and passed through her weekly are still stunned at the sight of what was once our “stomping ground”.

No one could save her. Her injuries were far too vast. Once allowed, sightseers came through and gasped at the devastation here, but they have no real idea of the toll taken on the children who had the eyes of Cayce upon them all of those years ago.

Our hearts are forever saddened by the loss of our Old Lady whose eyes were upon us, who was so loyal, so faithful, and so true.