52 It Happened in Iona

were nervous but bit their lip bravely, while some few responded rather hysterically to the whole scene. The public health nurse, for many years Mona Wilson, sometimes accompanied Keeping and on other occasions she came alone. She would give us a pep talk on health habits, especially on care of our teeth with posters to boot. Those who came to administer the “patch test” in search of tuberculosis gave us a scare, but by far the most visible of all visitors to the school was the mobile TB unit which arrived on the scene in the mid 40s It was interesting, though a bit fearful, to enter the van in turn and put one’s chin against the ledge for the chest X-ray. The technician’s final instruction was always: “Take a deep breath, hold it, that’s all”.

Extra curricular activities at the school were few. School closing in June was a non event except in the hearts of the pupils panting for their longed-for freedom. Now and then there was a Christmas concert at night which gave the old school such a different appearance. There would be a small stage and care- fully planned program, including those dreadful recitations. Sometimes these rare events were moved to the hall. The only outside event I remember was selling Christmas seals, a task assigned to the older students. By today’s standards it was a low-profile task, but for us it had many useful lessons. It taught us in a small way about handling other people’s money and gave us a slight sense of competition as we tried to sell our quota. It got us knocking on our neighbors’ doors, quietly stating our mission and always thanking the people for their business! It was a means of entering many of the community homes that otherwise might never have happened. In a special way the raising of money through Christmas seals for the fight against tuberculosis, so much feared at the time, impressed upon us youngsters two of life’s stern realities, serious illness and death.

The school was a mile from our home and for at least half the year we came home at noon. For the rest of the time we stayed in school for the one-hour break as did many others. Lunches were plain but hearty and we sometimes exchanged cookies and the like with other pupils. Rarely were we driven to school except for sharp days in winter. Our journey each day was studded with interesting sights along the way. First we had a well-beaten path across to Joe Farrell’s house, often pausing under the mighty poplars there. On then past his ancient barn and out onto the road at “Joe’s Corner”, across the railroad tracks and past Fodhla station, often encountering the train there. Then on past the hall and Father McCarthy’s house and