The Historic Sacramento One-Room Schoolhouse by Denise M. Colby

 

The one-room schoolhouse in Sacramento, California is a wonderful museum that sheds light on how schoolrooms operated in the 1800s.

At one time, fourth grade classes could sit in a reenactment. I was fortunate to attend it twice with m first two son's field trip. One was inside the actual schoolhouse, another was underneath the city (I wrote about how Sacramento built on top of itself in last months post).

In both instances, they had all the kids sit through a lesson as it would’ve been taught in the 1860s. Boys on one side, girls sat on the other. If you answered a question, a student must stand. Reciting was a main part of the lesson. There was even a dunce cap in the corner.

 

My son's class sitting in the one-room schoolhouse

 

In these two photos the teacher is showing the boys how to stand and bow appropriately

 

It really was an immersive experience.

And is quite a special memory. My writing journey began here, on that first field trip. Even though I had visited multiple times, this visit to Old Town Sacramento and the one-room schoolhouse birthed an idea. But it wasn’t until the second trip with my second son, did I actually act on it.

What would it be like to be a teacher during that era? How did she keep order? Implement the discipline?

 

 What a schoolteacher would've worn during this time.

The setup on our visit included tables with era related things to purchase. One sheet highlighted all the rules a teacher must follow including how to cut the pencil tips. Other instructions included:

 

These rules were posted on the wall inside the schoolhouse

Another parchment listed out how many lashings a student would receive for any of the following infractions. When you read this list, you realize that many of these rules wouldn’t fly today.

 

The schoolroom is a permanent fixture in Old Town Sacramento. Recently I learned that they have not been doing the reenactment classes since COVID. That’s a shame, as I believe the hands on experience gives students an example of how different people lived over a century ago. 

At least they can still visit the classroom and learn about it from the docents who still work it. 

 

 

Best-laid Plans Series

Three young women. One new beginning. A journey of faith, friendship, and unexpected love. It’s 1869 and three young women travel to Sacramento, California, ready to begin new lives as teachers in the rural one-room schoolhouses of the West. But the plans they carefully laid soon give way to something far greater. As God gently redirects their paths, each woman discovers lessons in friendship, faith, and trust—and encounters the most surprising gift of all: love. (No Plan at all is a prequel story with side characters.)

 

Denise M. Colby writes historical romance sweetened with faith, hope, and love. She finds history fascinating and contemplates often how it was to live in the 1800's. Her debut novel, When Plans Go Awry, is a 2025 Carol Award finalist. Sign up for her newsletter at

www.denisemcolby.com or follow Denise on Facebook, Instagram, Bookbub, Pinterest, or GoodReads.

 

WOOPS! The Forgotten Female Force of World War II

“Now come the WOOPS.”

That is how the Associated Press introduced the newest opportunity for women to serve the country in May 1943.

WOOPS (Women Officers of Public Safety) are not as well known as the WACs (Women’s Army Corps) and WAVES (the Naval Women’s Reserve), perhaps because they were far fewer in number.

Unlike WACS and WAVES, the WOOPS carried
 guns when on duty. This photo of firing range
practice was published in the May 31, 1943
Austin, Texas, Statesman.

These women served during World War II to replace or supplement men serving in the military. Unlike the others, however, WOOPS carried guns.

WOOPS was created by the Tennessee Valley Authority (TVA) to supplement the male Public Safety Service (PSS) protecting dams and power facilities from espionage and sabotage.

TVA was formed in 1933 to control flooding, provide navigation, and generate power in the Tennessee Valley region of the southeast. By the time the United States entered World War II, TVA was providing power to industries vital to the war effort, including production of aluminum and the top-secret Oak Ridge laboratory, which produced uranium for the Manhattan Project.

So TVA facilities, including dams under construction as well as the Muscle Shoals Reservation where explosive materials were produced for munitions, were considered possible targets by enemies.

When the federal government created TVA, they authorized the agency to designate law enforcement officers to assist in carrying out its mission. The PSS initially assisted with police, fire, and emergency services. The force grew to 250 officers by January 1941. But when the U.S. entered the war, the need for increased security of TVA facilities became evident. In 1942, German operatives were apprehended on Long Island, N.Y.; among their targets were American aluminum factories.

PSS employment reached its peak of about 900 in July 1942. However, Public the men most qualified to serve as security guards were also the ones most likely to enlist in the military services.

TVA officials found that when a PSS officer joined the war effort, he would be replaced by another man, who would also enlist after a few months.

The training period was shortened from six months to six weeks, and the officers were sworn in as Civilian Auxiliary to the Military Police, a status that remained until 1945. In addition to fire and sabotage prevention, the officers assisted TVA Personnel with fingerprinting prospective employees to secure the workforce.

To counter the shrinkage of the force, TVA established the Women Officers of Public Safety, shortened to WOOPS in line with WAVES and WACS. Initially, about 70 women applied, and 22 were accepted and trained in the first class, along with 63 men.

The first class of WOOPS at the gun range

The women, mostly single, included former stenographers, clerks, teachers, and nurses. A few were wives of PSS officers who left to join the military. Most had never fired a gun before joining the corps.

They received training intensive combat training in judo and riflery, as well as instruction in firefighting and guard dog handling. Classroom work included lectures on arrests, searches and seizures, basic state and federal laws, and the TVA badge, pass and identification system.

This photo in the Knoxville News-Sentinel
was apparently taken before the WOOPS
 received their official uniforms.

The women’s olive-green uniforms consisted of skirt, blouse, “Sam Browne” belt, and overseas-type cap. (The Sam Browne belt is a leather belt with a supporting strap over the right shoulder and a flap-holster on the hip.) They carried a .38 caliber pistol when on duty.

According to societal norms at the time, women were not suited for this type of potentially dangerous duty, and they were given the nickname of “pistol-packin’ mamas.”

But the women’s effectiveness was recognized when, at war’s end, there had been no reports of sabotage at any TVA facility. In 1944, a little over a year after the program began, the corps received the Army-Navy E for Excellence Award.

After the war, as soldiers returned home, so did the women of WOOPS. But over time, TVA again began hiring women for their security force, and today women are part of the TVA Police & Emergency Management, designated in 1994 as a federal law enforcement agency.

Sources:

Drumright, William Wade, "A River for War, a Watershed to Change: The Tennessee Valley Authority During World War II. " PhD diss., University of Tennessee, 2005.

Home-Front Defenders

World War II | Tennessee Encyclopedia

Powering World War II

TVA History: The 1940s

Multi-award-winning author Marie Wells Coutu finds beauty in surprising places, like undiscovered treasures, old houses, and gnarly trees. All three books in her Mended Vessels series, contemporary stories based on the lives of biblical women, have won awards in multiple contests. She is currently working on historical romances set in her native western Kentucky in the 1930s and ‘40s. An unpublished novel, Shifting Currents, placed second in the inspirational category of the nationally recognized Maggie Awards. Learn more at www.MarieWellsCoutu.com.

In the misty Scottish Highlands, Kenna MacLaren defies English law by playing bagpipes to keep alive the music and memories. When she finds a duke’s nephew wounded, she faces an impossible choice. Helping him could cost her everything, but abandoning him goes against her faith. As English soldiers hunt for rebels, Kenna must decide if she can trust this man with her family's safety--and her heart. Get your free copy of this new novelette, The Piper's Secret, here, when you sign up for Marie’s newsletter, or you can buy it on Kindle.

18th Century Live Theater

By Kathy Kovach

As one who enjoys live performances, from my dabbling in the acting world to watching my son perform in high school, college, and community theaters, I find the evolution of performance art fascinating.

Joey Kovach (on left) as King Oberon in Midsummer Night’s Dream, Okaloosa-Walton Community College, Valparaiso, FL, 1998

From the Greek and Roman influences, to the Renaissance, and on into the 1700s, live theater boomed in Europe during the 18th century. Only two theaters had been licensed in England during the reign of Charles II, but by the end of the 18th century, seven more had been added. Two were extended to accommodate three thousand people. The First Industrial Revolution contributed heavily to this growth as the population moved from the country into the growing urban areas, taking advantage of the manufacturing boom. As a result, they sought out cultural entertainment.

Enter the different styles of performance art.

The Misanthrope, a comedy in five acts by Moliere

The grandiose spectacle of Baroque Theater used special effects via elaborate stage machinery. The sets were intricate and ornate, the plots multi-layered and complex, with an overabundance of emotional intensity and dramatic tension. The monarch and aristocrats powered the Baroque engine, fueling it with their wealth to produce artistic and technical wonders reflective of the Age of Enlightenment.

You know what they say: If it ain’t Baroque, don’t fix it.

Teatro Palladiano, a neoclassical theatre in Vicenza

However, some did feel the need to fix it, and as the grandness of the theater wore out its welcome, a new movement, Neoclassicism, emerged. Going back to basics, it recalled, once again, the Greek and Roman models. Simple performances, scaled down designs, and a call back to reason and morality became the focus.

Melodrama took the simplicity of the Neoclassic drama and added intense emotion and exaggerated reactions. Music played a huge part in raising the heart rate of theater goers. Melodrama became the prototype for Hollywood movies in the infancy of film. The trope of the damsel in distress comes to mind, calling out for her hero while the dastardly villain ties her to the railroad tracks. Such intensity! But it worked. So much so, that from the early 1900s to today, nearly 500 films can be categorized with the Melodramatic style.

The Payne Brothers – Harry as Clown and Fred as Harlequin, c. 1875

One avantgarde form was Pantomime. Hugely popular from the mid-1600s into the 1800s. Large gestures, physical comedy, and often elaborate costumes and makeup delighted audiences. Characterized by two figures, Clown and Harlequin, the Payne Brothers (Harry and Frederick, sons of classic Pantomime artist William Payne) popularized the act. The mime of today has brought this unique form of entertainment into contemporary times.

The Beggar’s Opera, Painting based on scene 11, act 3 by William Hogarth, c. 1728, Librettist John Gay, Wikipedia

With the rise of the middle class, Ballad Opera became popular. It incorporated well-known songs with spoken dialogue. A precursor to musical comedy, this was a farce of the traditional Italian operas and incorporated humor and satire, making it more relatable than the pretentious form of opera.

The style of the building itself saw changes that lasted for the next few centuries and are still the standard.

The Orchestra Pit on the floor

Live theater went from roving bands of actors, performing under the trees or in the town square, to large buildings with solid roofs. The stage itself was once close enough to the audience for interaction. However, when the orchestra began taking over a large percentage of the stage, sometimes with fifty musicians crowding the actors, it was moved to the front onto the floor, separating the audience from the stage. The main floor is still called the Orchestra Level. This worked fine for sophisticated audiences, but too often, a rowdy crowd would pelt the musicians with rotten fruit if they heard a sour note.

The Orchestra Pit under the stage

Still, it wouldn’t be until a century later that Richard Wagner came up with an innovative design to not only protect the musicians but hide them. Lowering the floor just in front of the stage and utilizing the space underneath, this was called, appropriately, the Orchestra Pit.

Note the five candelabras lighting the stage

Lighting changed as the auditoriums grew larger. At the beginning of the 18th century, the seating area was as bright as the stage, lit with candelabra rings. When the audience moved farther from their focal point, it became increasingly hard to see the performance. Thus, the house was darkened, and five rings of candelabras lit the actors.

Lighting the footlights

Footlights with tin reflectors, an invention of the previous century, were originally lit by candles and later with kerosene and oil. In the Haymarket Theatre in London, colored glass was raised and lowered to enhance effects on stage. As one would imagine, theaters were prone to burning down.

As live theater developed in Western civilization, it was inevitable that it would cross the pond and end up in America. However, Puritan settlers prohibited its development until the early 18th century. Surprisingly, Williamsburg, Virginia was the first to introduce this form of entertainment in 1716. Charleston, South Carolina adopted it in 1730, when several English actors began performing in various venues. By the mid-1730s, New York caught the vision and opened several theaters. New England legislatures attempted to prohibit live performances on moral grounds. One touring company, however, broke through with its presentation of Shakespeare’s Othello, arguing it to be a “moral dialogue in five acts”.

The Hallam Company, organized by actor-manager William Hallam and led by his brother Lewis Hallam, arrived by boat at Yorktown, Virginia June 2, 1752. When they moved to New York, they changed the name to The American Company (1758-1785), and later to The Old American Company (1785-1805).

If it weren’t for the ancient peoples, the driven creatives, and the royal lovers of live theater, I’d never have been able to enjoy seeing my son in the dozens of performances in which he’s participated over the years. He now teaches Theater Education at City College in New York as an Adjunct Professor.

Joey Kovach as Bottom in Midsummer Night’s Dream, Choctawhatchee High School 1997.

I’m a proud mom! 😊

Titanic: Legacy of Betrayal

A TIME-SLIP NOVEL

A secret. A key. Much was buried on the Titanic, but now it's time for resurrection.

Follow two intertwining stories a century apart. 1912 - Matriarch Olive Stanford protects a secret after boarding the Titanic that must go to her grave. 2012 - Portland real estate agent Ember Keaton-Jones receives the key that will unlock the mystery of her past... and her distrusting heart.

To buy: Amazon

Kathleen E. Kovach is a Christian romance author published traditionally through Barbour Publishing, Inc. as well as indie. Kathleen and her husband, Jim, raised two sons while living the nomadic lifestyle for over twenty years in the Air Force. Now planted in northeast Colorado, she's a grandmother and a great-grandmother—though much too young for either. Kathleen has been a longstanding member of American Christian Fiction Writers. An award-winning author, she presents spiritual truths with a giggle, proving herself as one of God's peculiar people.

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The Humble Gristmill

by Denise Farnsworth

It could be argued that the gristmill provided life to a community of the 1700s and 1800s, grinding corn or wheat into meal to make bread, porridge, grits, and feed for livestock. Not only that, it served as a gathering place for neighbors to catch up on gossip, for families to picnic, and for baptisms to occur in the mill pond. And yet, we rarely find it as a central location for historical fiction novels. That plus my experience working as a docent at Freeman’s Mill in Gwinnett County, Georgia, inspired me to make the heroine of my recent novel a miller’s daughter, then a miller in her own right.

Let me take you on a virtual tour of how Freeman’s Mill on the Alcovy River—constructed shortly after the Civil War by brothers John Griffin and Levi Loveless—operated.

***

Freeman's Mill

A dam stores the water at the highest point above the mill. When the miller arrives, he turns the wheel on the millstone platform inside the mill to open the sliding sluice gate in the dam to channel water through the millrace to the wheel. The mill is in operation.

When a farmer approaches the ledger desk, the miller weighs his corn and keeps a portion for payment (often a tenth), which he places in the toll box. A peg panel on the side of the receiving hopper is used to tally the totals. The remaining corn is run through a sheller to separate the kernels from the cob, then sifted over to the receiving hopper with screens of various sizes to clean the kernels. Next, the miller lifts a lever on the side of the hopper to open and close the chute and drops the kernels to the basement. A grain elevator carries them up to the attic. Then they drop to the second floor through a gravity chute and are cleaned again as they pass a grain blower. The kernels land on the grinding surface of the millstone where the furrows crush them into cornmeal.

Using a wheel, the miller can raise or lower the stones. The base or bedstone is stationary. The top runner stone does the grinding. The stones should never contact each other. The smaller the space between the millstones, the finer the meal. The meal is dropped off the edge of the stones into the receiving bin. 

***

Inside & outside Hagood Mill, SC

A mill might operate six days a week during harvest season (June to October). The miller re-sharpened the stones at least once a year. The runner stone was removed using a millstone crane with bails attached to the end to lift it from the casing. Once the stone was safely laid down, the dresser would use the bush hammers and picks to redress the stones. The bush hammers removed the high points, then the picks chipped a pattern to create grooves called furrows and lands. The furrows allowed air to pass through and let out heat and ground material. The picks needed constant sharpening, and the miller would go through a bunch of them to dress a pair of millstones. A millstone dresser required a good blacksmith to re-temper his picks.

Book Two of The Twenty-Niners of the Georgia Gold Rush, The Maiden and the Mountie, is now available. A marriage of necessity. A secret buried deep. In Georgia’s gold country, love may be the most dangerous treasure of all. https://www.amazon.com/Maiden-Mountie-Twenty-Niners-Georgia-Gold-ebook/dp/B0FNYFLLJ3/

Denise Farnsworth, formerly Denise Weimer, writes historical and contemporary romance mostly set in Georgia and also serves as a freelance editor and the Acquisitions & Editorial Liaison for Wild Heart Books. A wife and mother, she always pauses for coffee, chocolate, and old houses.

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How Many Patents Does It Take to Sew a Dress?

By Suzanne Norquist

I often think of a sewing machine as a single, compact unit, but a multitude of discrete parts fill its insides, each requiring a unique design and its own patent. So, what happens when different inventors own patents to various parts of the same machine? 

In the case of sewing machines in the mid-1800s, this led to bickering, patent infringement, and lawsuits between would-be manufacturers. Finally, the inventors came together to create the first-ever patent pool in US history, known as the Sewing Machine Trust. Over time, other industries involving complex technologies (like airplanes) followed this example. Then, of course, the government stepped in with antitrust laws to prevent monopolies. (But that’s another story.)

Nine patents were included in the Sewing Machine Trust, and inventors received royalties on every machine sold. Anyone could purchase a license and set their own price for the finished product. 

From the mid-1700s, various inventors tried to build a machine to mimic the motions of hand sewing. However, no one successfully mechanized a single needle with a hole at the back end like seamstresses used.

In 1834, Walter Hunt, a mechanic from New York City, designed a crude machine that used two threads with an interlocking stitch. The curved upper needle had an eye in the point. A shuttle pulled a second thread through the other side. Without an automatic feed and presser foot, the process was clunky. He sold a few machines but didn’t obtain a patent.

Building on this early design, Elias Howe patented the first working sewing machine in 1846. He included the presser foot and feed. When he failed to raise funding in America, he went to England and sold some machines. Three years later, when he returned to the United States, he found others, including Isaac Singer, building his machine without permission. And, thus, the patent wars began. 

Meanwhile, other inventors made improvements to the machines that would be included in the patent pool. Most of them built upon existing mechanisms.

In 1856, the Sewing Machine Trust was formed. It charged licensing fees and divided the proceeds among the inventors. Howe received a larger portion, since legal action had proved that his earlier patent was valid.

With a level playing field, sewing machine companies focused on marketing. Initially, twenty-four manufacturers jumped on the opportunity. By 1877, when the original patent expired, only two of the companies remained.

Isaac Singer, the name synonymous with sewing machines, thrived in this environment. This bully, cheat, and womanizer (who fathered at least 24 children) knew how to market the machines. He had tinkered in mechanics and failed as an actor, but he teamed up with men who could improve the product and create unique markets.

Singer’s company was purchased by his partner, Edward Clark, in the 1860s. It developed machines for home use and marketed directly to women. Installment plans made them affordable. As part of this effort, they created beautiful cabinets that women would want in their homes. The company also used mass production and interchangeable parts, lowering costs. By 1900, the Singer Company boasted 80% of all sales.

So, how many patents does it take to sew a dress? In 1856, it took nine. 

Not only did the Sewing Machine Trust change how clothes were made, but it also transformed how businesses managed patents for complex machines, ushering in the technological age.

*** 

Love In Bloom 4-in-one collection

“A Song for Rose” by Suzanne Norquist

Can a disillusioned tenor convince an aspiring soprano that there is more to music than fame?

“Holly & Ivy” by Mary Davis

At Christmastime, a young woman accompanies her impetuous younger sister on her trip across the country to be a mail-order bride and loses her heart to a gallant stranger.

“Periwinkle in the Park” by Kathleen E. Kovach

A female hiking guide, who is helping to commission a national park, runs into conflict with a mountain man determined to keep the government off his land.

“A Beauty in a Tansy”

Two adjacent store owners are drawn to each other, but their older relatives provide obstacles to their ever becoming close.

Republished from Bouquet of Brides

Buy links: https://books2read.com/u/bOOx8K

https://www.amazon.com/Love-Bloom-Mary-Davis/dp/B0FPLFYCXR/

Suzanne Norquist is the author of two novellas. Everything fascinates her. She has worked as a chemist, professor, financial analyst, and even earned a doctorate in economics. Research feeds her curiosity, and she shares the adventure with her readers. She lives in New Mexico with her mining engineer husband and has two grown children. When not writing, she explores the mountains, hikes, and attends kickboxing class.

Storm Warnings and Sailor Signs: Maritime Superstitions of the Eastern Shore

      _By Tiffany Amber Stockton

Before the Coast Guard, and before life insurance, there was the Church.

Folklore and Belief Mixed Together

If you grow up around open water, you learn early that it has a personality. It doesn’t answer to schedules, and it certainly doesn’t care about your plans. Long before weather radar and storm tracking maps, the watermen who worked around Chincoteague Island and the broader Eastern Shore of Virginia relied on something far less scientific. They lived their lives by observation, experience, and a collection of sailor signs passed down through generations.

Some of those signs were practical. Others bordered on superstition. Most were a little of both.

One of the most repeated bits of coastal wisdom is an old rhyme. You've probably heard it. “Red sky at night, sailor’s delight. Red sky in morning, sailor take warning.” That wasn’t folklore pulled from thin air. It reflected real weather patterns moving west to east. But to watermen heading out before sunrise, it was enough of a warning for them to decide whether to stay tied to the dock or head out to sea.

Superstitions and Stories

Then there were the taboos.

• Whistling on a boat was said to “whistle up the wind.”
• Renaming a vessel without ceremony invited disaster.
• Women on a boat brought bad luck.
• Bananas aboard ship were considered bad luck (they got them at the docks).
• Certain days were thought unlucky for setting out.

And these beliefs didn't just exist on tall ships or in far-off oceans. They lived right along the Virginia coast. The waters off Assateague and Chincoteague were notorious for shoals and sudden storms. Before the Coast Guard established modern rescue systems, a mistake or misreading of the sky could mean a wreck.

There are dozens upon dozens of documented shipwrecks dotting the history of this region. Newspaper reports from the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries frequently described vessels "driven aground during nor’easters," their crews rescued by local surfmen or sometimes lost entirely. The U.S. Life-Saving Service, which later became part of the Coast Guard, maintained stations along Assateague precisely because the waters were so treacherous.

When people aren't certain about survival, they look for patterns. For some semblance of control.

The Source of Their Strength

At the same time, Eastern Shore communities were deeply rooted in church life. Psalm 107 is a powerful song of thanksgiving celebrating God’s enduring mercy and deliverance. Verses 23-30 address "those who go down to the sea in ships…” This passage was often read in maritime congregations. Bells tolled after wrecks. Prayer meetings gathered when storms threatened. Faith and folklore existed side by side as equal attempts to make sense of the unknown.

I remember childhood visits to the island and the stories spun in Pop-Pop’s barbershop. He had a way of blending fact and imagination so seamlessly that my brother and I never questioned which was which. In those tales, storms always rolled in dramatically. There was definitely a fanciful aspect to his storytelling. The sea always tested us. And somehow, through grit and cleverness, the hero (almost always Pop-Pop himself) brought us home.

But despite hearing stories, I could tell there was an element of truth underneath all the embellishment. Coastal life has always required respect for the forces bigger than life itself. Whether a man crossed himself before casting off lines or quietly studied the sky for signs of change, he understood that once the dock disappeared behind him, certainty did too.

Generational Traditions

Superstitions may sound quaint when you hear them now. They might even seem humorous. But in them, you learn something important about the people who held them. They were observant. Cautious. Aware that they couldn't afford to make mistakes, that their lives depended on them being alert at all times.

Today, modern forecasts tell us what satellites see hundreds of miles away. Boats are equipped with GPS and radios that early watermen couldn’t have even imagined. And yet, if you spend enough time around working docks, you’re bound to still hear some of those old sayings repeated.

Tradition carries weight. The sea hasn’t changed its temperament. It still demands humility. Maybe that’s why those sailor signs endure. They're reminders passed from one generation to the next to pay attention, respect the water, and never assume you’re in charge.