The decision to enroll at Cherry Lawn for my four years of high school was one of the most important decisions I ever made -- and I made it for the wrong reasons. I close it over the Putney School in Vermont, and the George School in Pennsylvania, not because of its educational excellence and its outstanding faculty and student body -- but because I could get a scholarship and ride horseback, which I couldn't at the others! Horses were my passion. What did I know at fourteen?

I and my classmates were at Cherry Lawn from 1942-1946. Pearl Harbor had brought us into World War II, and before we graduated we would see peace with both Germany and Japan, and we would grieve the death of Franklin Roosevelt. Though to some extent, our Cherry Lawn life insulated us from world events, in a very significant way -- each of us was partially formed by the external environment during the time we were there. The presence of faculty and students who were recent refugees from Europe, deepened our sensitivities and enriched our young lives. And our classmates had brothers already in the war, and Cherry Lawn graduates while we were there, would enter it.

So, what was Cherry Lawn like at that time?

• It was a boarding school "in the country" from first grade through high school. I couldn't imagine such small children away from home. But Cherry Lawn was a community that enfolded all who were in it.

• We explained that its educational philosophy was post -- progressive, which somehow meant we had learned from the earlier mistakes of John Dewey.

• Our classes were held out of doors, or in gradations of cover, depending on the weather. So, we learned to concentrate and tried not to be distracted by the more interesting discussion next to us. I will never forget having a portion of The Call of the Wild read out loud to us as the snow fell all around.

• Our teachers and house-parents were our mentors and our friends. Our learning was formal and informal, and of course it went on for twenty four hours each day.

• It as an environment that encouraged initiative and creativity. Several of us, after we had been singing together as we washed and dried dishes, approached the singing teacher about forming a singing group. And so we began to sing madrigals in earnest, and were known as The Dishwashing Pan Handlers.

• It was a place that taught respect for differences and diversity, where those who had problems found acceptance, and where those who thought they didn't have problems, were touched deeply enough to find that they did.

• Dr. Staël, with regal bearing and Swedish Von Holstein heritage, taught us to love history, and behind her back, we giggled for the earrings didn't match. Because she expected it, she made us stand tall and reach for the best.

• Dr. Boris was "philosopher in residence" who, through Sunday night assemblies, introduced me to classical music, which has ever since been part of the glue of my life. He challenged our assumptions about what we thought we knew or believed, such as "what if there has been a noise all our lives, and suddenly it stopped..." And he described his flight to San Francisco, state by state with such excitement and enthusiasm, that serving as an interpreter for those who signed the United Nations Charter, almost seemed secondary. It was Dr. Boris, who articulated his vision of the education he gave leadership to at Cherry Lawn, in his book, The Ideal School, which he wrote in 1937.

• We danced after supper and before study hall, in the Round Room at Manor House, to Benny Goodman and Glenn Miller.

• We played field hockey, basketball, did English country dancing on the lawn under the Copper Beeches, we skated on the pond in winter, and some of us rode horseback! The boys on the basketball team took ballet, so they could stretch and reach higher to make baskets.

• We put on plays -- Richard the III was the highlight, and we performed it in New York at the Dalton School. We did musicals, Rosamunde, especially remembered, and each year, we put on a Christmas pageant. No one thought it strange that Dale Danenberg was Mary and Tony Salisbury was Joseph, for after all, Mary and Joseph were Jewish and in those days it was a seasonal dramatic event more than a relgious celebration. And no one seemed to question it.

• We learned self governance and responsibility for others, modeling after our United States form of government. There were "secretaries" of everything; labor, the Stein House... and we learned parliamentary procedure. We learned to deal with conflict through discussion, understanding, compromise, and respect for each other. Maybe it's not so surprising that I became a Quaker.

• We headed for home every eight weeks, for four days, most of us to New York City, with an assignment which would expand our cultural, historical -- you name it -- awareness. I remember -- best, competing to see who had located the most statues in the City. I don't remember who won, because I remember Cherry Lawn as less about competing and more about cooperating and pitching in to help each other.

• Cherry Lawn was where I had my first crushes and fell in love; where I experienced loneliness, and loss and pain. Especially it was a place for testing values and for developing those which would stay with me for the rest of my life.

Kiki Heitkamp Eglinton, CLS'46