"Haass School, Southwest of Castroville," photographer, date unknown. Larger.
The one-room schoolhouse built by pioneers is an American icon—but set aside the image, and what do you get?
In 1852, five year old Isaac Mylar accompanied his family to California, eventually settling in San Juan Bautista. There the young pioneer found the local school a bit rough, but nothing like its Castroville rival, where "boys were hellions."
At one period in Castroville's history the school trustees engaged a teacher from Monterey. . . . Tom Clay said that he would teach the school and in due time it was announced that the school would reopen with a new teacher. The boys prepared to give this new teacher a taste of wild life and intended to hold a jamboree when he was compelled to make his exit from the scene of his labors.
On the morning that the school opened all the pupils attended—boys and girls. The boys were of mature size, many of them could be called young men they were such strapping, muscular young fellows. Tom Clay rang the bell, the pupils trooped in and took their places. Clay proceeded to his desk and after making the pupils recite the Lord's prayer told them to sit down. Then, reaching back to his hip pocket, he pulled out a six-shooter which he regarded fondly and, laying it on the edge of his desk, remarked; "I want all you pupils, especially you young bucks, to understand right now, that I am going to run this school and teach you something. You will do as I say or there is going to be trouble."
History relates that there was no further trouble in that school.
Isaac Mylar's reminiscences of growing up in San Juan Bautista were published by the Evening Pajaronian in 1929.
San Juan Bells
From Early Days at the Mission San Juan Bautista, 1929. Read Online
"A photograph of Mission San Juan Bautista taken between 1880 and 1910. The steeple (far right), constructed after the mission was secularized, was subsequently destroyed in a fire." Larger.
In its early days, Mission San Juan Bautista was more than simply a place of worship—its silvery-toned bells dictated the activities of the day and provided rhythm to daily life.
As a boy, Isaac Mylar moved with his family to California in 1852 and spent most of his life in the mission town of San Juan Bautista. He reminisced when he was 80 years old about the influence of the mission on his daily life.
The Angelus bells rang out, sending their silvery tones over the peaceful valley each morning, noon and evening, and I remember we would set our watches by the mission bells. . . . When we came to San Juan the mission boasted of three bells attached to a long beam which was supported about ten feet from the ground by two immense posts, sunk in the ground, and these bells were located about thirty feet from the front of the church door. The stroke was made by a piece of rawhide being attached to each clapper (or bell tongue). They were a fine set of bells; at times, according to the temperature, silvery and then apparently golden in tone. They could be heard from six to seven miles—yes, even over to the sheep ranch owned by Mr. Hollister, now the site of the flourishing county seat of San Benito county. Ah! many a time those silvery-sounding bells, which linger yet in memory's recollection, warned me to hurry home for meals.
below to hear radio segment.
