It was quite a procession up that same (currently) Hawthorne Avenue on April 10, 1952. The high school's band followed Superintendent J. E. Huneycutt, Principal Bessie Terry, and longtime former superintendent Lorenzo James ("L.J.") Bell in a vehicle driven by school janitor Donnie Watkins. Watkins would tend to the new facility's physical needs until well into the 1960s.
The real stars of that day, however, were the students — 675 strong — marching from old Rockingham Graded School, through downtown, to Steele, then Ann streets, before turning onto Hawthorne for the procession's final leg.
Third grader Donnie Bailey marched that April day, and joined an early group on the school's upper traffic island this past Aug. 15, awaiting the 10 a.m. opening for a final two-hour tour of the 74-year old facility.
"We turned left (from Ann Street) and marched in," Bailey said, also noting that Hawthorne's section that intersects Love Lane was not yet completed. At 83, the 1961 Rockingham High graduate had lived to witness the life of L.J. Bell Elementary School come full circle.
Joining our early group on Saturday was a wistful Bobbi Sue Ormsby, a former Bell principal, and currently a member of Richmond County's Board of Education. While many seemed to share the thoughtful, reflective mood — tinged with a bit of sadness — the morning provided many opportunities for the several hundred visitors to share happy recollections, reunions, and cross-generational reflections.
I could still find the playground site where first-grade boys played marbles. (Don't play "keepsies" with Gene Davis Jr. He's especially talented at the game and will clean you out!) Mrs. Ellwanger, the cafeteria manager, sold ice cream to us for six cents. As a second grader, I was aghast when Nutty Buddies and similar treats skyrocketed to a dime.
The breezeway at Bell's east end invoked my initial day of first grade when Benja Burr and I slipped away for an end-of-day stroll while the teacher was out of the room. I'll never forget the sight of that expansive playground as we emerged from the breezeway on a bright mid-afternoon. I'll never forget Miss Fanny Dabbs's blazing eyes upon our return!
A common observation this day was, "Look, here's my old old fourth-grade classroom!" For those of us with lots of gray on the dome, it was more common to hear, "Oh, here's my old fifth-grade classroom, or, um, maybe it was the next one."
1954's Hurricane Hazel caused great devastation along the Carolinas' coast, and its strong winds experienced locally were enough to prompt Phyllis Davis to accurately recall her classroom.
Eddie Richardson, a U.S. Navy vet, recalled his mid-1960s days at Bell along with 82nd Airborne vet Billy Smith. Both of them graduated in Richmond Senior's class of 1976, which will soon observe its 50th anniversary.
A fellow member of their class, Graham Jenkins, was on hand to reminisce along with older brother Joe Jenkins, a Greensboro resident and a 1950s/’60s era Bell alum. Joe recalled J.C. Mulkey as principal of the school.
Randy Dycus recalled his time at Bell in the 1975 era. His mom had attended there a couple of decades earlier.
Music teacher Genevra Beaver Kelly, appearing younger than her 95-plus years, was among the senior former faculty members present for the "old home week" event. At L. J. Bell's official dedication on April 12, 1953 — a year after the 1952 march — Genevra Beaver and Superintendent J. E. Huneycutt co-produced a pageant production in which students portrayed the history of Rockingham's schools in 10 acts.
That 1953 dedication featured 14 of the 17 still-living school board members (of 44) who had served since 1901. Building architect Walter Toy presented the school's key to board chairman Isaac London. Retiring principal Bessie Terry was recognized for her 30 years service in that position. Also noted was Maude Moore, still active after beginning her teaching career at Rockingham Graded School in 1902.
Designed by architects Walter Toy and Porter Graves of Charlotte, L.J. Bell Elementary School was erected on 12 acres by Barger Construction Company of Mooresville. Ground was broken for the 50,000 square-foot project on Jan. 31, 1951. Cost of construction was $475,000, which was covered by a $1.75 million county bond issue in 1949.
Among former faculty joining Genevra Kelly this, past Saturday was Ann Brooks, a fourth-grade teacher during the 1960s, who made the trek from Raleigh along with her son, Todd, daughter Celeste, and other family.
Charles Harrill, a decade-long principal, was fondly remembered. Ann Brooks had previously reflected upon her time at Bell with Harrill. While he could be as "a steel fist inside a velvet glove" when it came to discipline, Brooks loved teaching for him, describing him as "very fair" in his relationships with faculty and students.
L.J. Bell seemed to hit its stride in those early years, as more seasoned students recall. Bell was among the earliest elementary schools to earn accreditation from the Southern Association of Colleges and Schools, winning those spurs in 1967. Its popular Halloween carnivals are still legendary, along with themed dress-up days that bolstered history lessons. Realistic toy pistols strapped to boys' hips in a photo on Bell's front steps for one 1966 dress-up day — a personal favorite — made the learning experience fun; albeit, strictly verboten in 2026.
Some with sharper memories may recall a spring early '60s evening when Bell's auditorium hosted renowned musician David Rubinoff performing with his Stradivarius violin.
The ghost of longtime Bell supervisor/librarian Nena DeBerry surely hovered in and around the library near the building's front entrance. The library was named in her honor decades ago. Along with many, Hayley Mills and Todd Brooks recalled checking out books from Miss DeBerry's library in the late 1960s. Todd even worked there as a second grader before his family moved to Columbia, South Carolina, the next year. "It was fun to use that rubber stamp," he noted.
Gene McLaurin recalled the veteran educator's attention to individual students. Once, as a young pupil, after he had checked out a book earlier in the day, DeBerry approached him to retrieve the book. "I know it's too difficult for you right now."
No one who knows the former mayor, state senator, and successful businessman believes that now, but the lady was well-versed in her profession. A perusal of her 1937 master's degree thesis at UNC-Chapel Hill reveals a 90-page treatise on the science of teaching reading that seems ahead of its time. She had begun her career in education before 1910, and only retired at age 84. Bell was, indeed, lucky to have her.
Trading notes between those of different generations added flavor to the reunion. Nov. 22, 1963, and Sept. 11, 2001, punctuated American history in profound and resonating ways. Those were also school days at L.J. Bell Elementary School, and students would form those indelible first impressions within its environs.
When I offered to show Charlie Melvin where I first learned of JFK's assassination, the post-2000 alum agreed, if he could show me where he learned of the 9/11 terrorist attacks in New York.
Charlie's memories of that day remain clear, and flowed once more as we stood in Mrs. Walker's former classroom. He recalled following the events on the room's TV, along with classmates. Adding to the drama was the general knowledge that their teacher's assistant, Mrs. Lockhart, had a son who was living and working in Manhattan at the time.
The value of this day's opportunity to soak in Bell's spaces was proven again as Charlie described his third-grade classroom as, perhaps, his favorite in the building with its proximity at the end of the hallway, and its second-story view of the playground. I could recall friends who enjoyed good memories of their own, in this very room, under Ann Brooks' leadership.
Physical surroundings help define our memories, as Charlie Melvin recalls a world of relative peace and stability when he entered his classroom on a sunny September morning, only to become more fraught and precarious before he would leave.
My experience was similar on an early Friday afternoon in November 1963. The U.S. presidency had changed hands before we could return to our classroom following playground recess. The steady intercom voice of Charles Harrill provided at least a measure of reassurance.
Tragedy would visit much closer one day in the mid-1960s. On Oct. 7, 1964, fourth grader Patsy Roberts complained of feeling sick after playing dodge ball on Bell's playground. After she collapsed, nurse Dorothy Allen attempted life-saving measures, but Patsy succumbed to a heart ailment that, reportedly, was previously not known. She was survived by her parents and five siblings.
Within six months the building is scheduled to be demolished, and the majority of this day's visitors are sure to feel more than a bit sentimental when these grounds are as bare as on a 1951 day when this patch of earth awaited its foundation.
The lessons imparted, the friendships formed, and the smiles coaxed in these spaces, however, will not disappear under a wrecking ball. They are locked inside too many minds and hearts. The spirits of them will linger here even as the new Bell arises, and the next generations form their own memories.
Award-winning columnist Douglas Smith lives and writes in Rockingham.
NOTE: This column has been updated to correct a name. 8:36 p.m. 8-17-26.
