Brevard Street

REMEMBERING BREVARD STREET

By Carroll S. Klingelhofer III ’61

I write as a member of Boys’ Latin’s class of 1961, the first class to graduate from the Lake Avenue incarnation of our dear School. Boys’ Latin moved from Brevard Street, deeper in the city, to Lake Avenue in the fall of 1960. As a frequent visitor to the School, I have a real sense that today’s students are, indeed, very proud to be Lakers and regard their school and the “Boys’ Latin experience” more deeply and more warmly than other Baltimore area students feel about their institutions. That is gratifying.

Many Lake Avenue graduates are only vaguely aware, if at all, of the Brevard Street history. The school was located there from 1898 to June of 1960. I was most fortunate to be a student for 6 years, grades 7 - 12, or, in Brevard Street terminology, Forms 1 - 6. I spent most enjoyable and rewarding years at Brevard Street beginning in 1955 and, as mentioned, am privileged to be in the 1st graduating class from Lake Avenue.

A special camaraderie and bond exists among the approximately 75 Brevard Street Alumni, flavored by warm memories and common experiences at a truly unique and special institution. After much thought, I have subjectively concluded that “unique” and “special” are, in fact, the most apt descriptive adjectives.

The contrast between the School’s current day physical plant, with its state-of-the-art classrooms, much greenery, magnificent athletic facilities and leafy location and Brevard Street is stark. A dated main building, an equally dated tiny gym with swimming pool which doubled as an athletic dressing area, no greenery and a blacktop, fenced-in playground, all in an urban setting. Astute Brevard Streeters, because of their English training under William Morris, may have observed that the preceding was not a complete sentence. A cardinal sin if such had been included in a composition submitted to Mr. Morris. Perhaps meriting a broken pencil or thrown eraser, not to mention a seriously low grade.

I entered Boys’ Latin as a 7th grader in September, 1955. If my parents had not had the foresight to enroll me there, I would have gone to Towson Junior High School. That experience would have included no athletics, girls, and yellow school buses. At Brevard Street, there were, of course, no girls nor yellow buses, but, in the 7th grade and thereafter, I played organized athletics against other schools with uniforms and the travel adventures of “away” games. Not to mention small classes (there were 15 students in mine) and a demanding academic regimen, but not overly so.

Within the student body, there was both a socio-economic spread, and a geographic one. Students came by car, bus, train, and on foot. They came from Aberdeen, Catonsville, Edmondson Village, South Baltimore, Relay, Roland Park, Bolton hill, East Baltimore, Lutherville, Kingsville, Severna Park, Timonium, Ellicott City, Cockeysville, and Howard County. That’s quite a variety for a school with only 200 or so students, grades 1 - 12. I hailed from Lutherville and for my first three years rode the Parkton Local train of the Pennsylvania Railroad to what is still Penn Station on Charles Street. The current light rail which goes out to Hunt Valley utilizes the same right of way.

The entire upper school met in study hall twice daily for opening and closing exercises, each of which lasted 5 - 10 minutes. These were “chaired” by Headmaster Hahn, and, day in day out, year in year out, provided a glue which held us together through common experience. The sessions were generally upbeat and frequently included a good laugh. For example, Donn “Tiger “Layne did not have a desk, but stood at the back of the room for each gathering. A very well-liked young man, he received, on at least a weekly basis, a rousing chant from the entire upper school of “Layne, Layne, Layne, Layne” and on and on. The chant was highly spirited, just plain fun, and concluded with Don visably turning beet red. Individually, and collectively, the student body was alert for the slightest excuse to launch into a “Layne” chant.

A truly special aspect of the study hall, and one which contributed greatly to camaraderie and school spirit, was the fact that the seating was random. A freshman might have a sophomore in front of him, an 8th grader behind him, and a junior to his left. This random pattern produced wonderful results. Each student became friendly and on a first-name basis with those who sat in close proximity, and, indeed, with all in the upper school. And when an underclassman attended a varsity sporting event, the junior or senior star performing on the field or court was likely a genuine friend, not some distant personality separated by several years of age and, perhaps, as many as five class years. Contrast this with what pertained in other schools where the lower, middle and upper classes were separated, and in different buildings and locations.

offered – 6-man football (a fun and interesting game which merits its own article), basketball, and lacrosse. Official competition was available for all upper school classes. There were 7th and 8th grade teams, freshmen (mainly for lacrosse), Jr. Varsity, and Varsity. Keep in mind that we were small in numbers. Accordingly, if you were a sophomore and played lacrosse, you were on the varsity.

“Unique” applies here in abundance. Consider all of what follows. Football and lacrosse, practices and games, were played at Mt. Washington on the Mt. Washington Club’s Lacrosse fields, eight or so miles from the School. But how did students get there? Each day, at 2:20, in football and lacrosse seasons, a motor coach bus would appear in front of the school. It ferried all teams out to Mt. Washington.

For football and lacrosse. After practice, students somehow managed to get home to Howard County or Severna Park or Lutherville or Bolton Hill or Edmondson Village.

Basketball circumstances were interesting. Players dressed and showered in the tiny old gym and walked or ran to practice which was conducted several blocks away in the Richmond Market Armory. Games were played at the nearby Fifth Regiment Armory, in one corner of its cavernous, dark and drafty interior.

Each year, the Shrine Circus with elephants and other animals occupied the Armory for a week or so in the winter. Suffice it to say that the basketball court was usually a bit sticky in the aftermath of the circus.

In 1958 - 1960, my sophomore and junior years, the Jones Falls Expressway was constructed over and through the Mt. Washington field, which was subsequently moved a bit to the east where it still exists. During those two years, football and lacrosse were practiced and games played at Druid Hill Park.

A priceless anecdote involving the short bus trip to Druid Hill Park. In 1960, The Madison was a popular novelty song known to all students and easily hummed. On one trip from Brevard Street to the Park, the bus driver asked coach O’Connor what route he should take. The reply was “Go up Madison Street”. That was enough to prompt one of our students, Paul Manger, to shout out “It’s Madison Time, hit it”. The bus erupted in raucous laughter and humming of the tune. Okey shook his head in feigned disgust. All Lakers engaged in athletics should contrast Brevard Street’s versions with their markedly different experiences at Lake Avenue.

Many teachers come to mind, from Tillie Woodward, who taught mechanical drawing and also taught at Lake Avenue, the claustrophobic Mrs. Smith, who taught physics and chemistry and presided over interesting chemistry experiments which were occasionally and intentionally fouled up to create smoke and strange odors, Mason LeBrun, who brandished a cut-off lacrosse stick handle. Mr. King, who taught Latin and Ancient History with the same precision with which he re-folded and re-used his daily lunch bag, and several others, including Mrs. Regan and Miss Jenkins in the lower school. But, of course, special attention must be reserved for William Morris, Claxton J. (Okey) O’Connor and our Headmaster, Frederick Hahn. Each wonderfully unique and special in his own way. Mr. Hahn was with the School from 1919 to 1960, Mr. Morris from 1924 to 1960, and Mr. O’Connor from the early thirties to 1960. They were distinct personalities and, in varying degrees, universally respected and appreciated. All are fondly remembered.

Many Brevard Street alumni consider Mr. Morris the best, or one of the best, teachers they ever experienced. Patrician looking with neatly combed white hair and a well-trimmed mustache, he taught English to all upper school classes. One learned grammar, punctuation, diagraming sentences and how to compose a theme. Each student was required to compose a “paragraph” on a weeknight, and, further, was required to turn in a “serious” composition every Monday morning. Getting that written over the weekend could be a nuisance, but it was a task shared by all upper schoolers. I rode the Parkton local train to school from Lutherville for several years. On Mondays, businessmen passengers, noticing my Boys’ Latin book bag, though total strangers to me, would often ask “Have you completed your theme for Bill Morris?”

He graded each composition in the student’s presence on Monday. If you arrived at school early, the Monday ritual was to line up at his desk so he could grade your effort before school. Compositions not graded then were tended to during your English class that day. Adding to the unique Brevard Street experience was the fact that 1st formers through 6th formers stood in line together before school each Monday morning. As mentioned previously, a serious sin was to offer a collection of words as a complete sentence when, in fact, it was not. I must observe that I have so sinned several times throughout this essay.

Too many interesting anecdotes regarding Okey exist for recounting here. A member of the Lacrosse Hall of Fame, he was the study hall monitor, taught 8th grade math, and was the varsity coach of all three (the only three) sports - football, basketball, and lacrosse.

Mr. Hahn was well-liked, respected and taught German. He wore half-lens glasses which he would remove and put back on regularly as he gesticulated.

A wonderful sense of camaraderie permeated our day-to-day experiences at the School. One felt part of something special beyond simply being a 7th grader or a freshman. There was an unspoken but clearly felt unity.

Most justifiably our beloved School emphasizes pride and tradition. I hope I have given insight into the foundation for that. And I am indeed fortunate and proud to be in that small group of alumni whose members are both Lakers and Latinists.