is my classroom, and it will be run the way I want it to be and no,” she forcefully repeated, “no child is going to be an exception. If she doesn’t begin using her right hand, I will fail her first grade.” George, realizing he was wasting time talking to Miss Bootson, boldly promised her that every day Addie came home from school with a swollen and blistered hand, he would personally come to school the following morning and subject her to the same punishment.
“You wouldn’t dare,” she said half smiling, then, in anger, continued, “no one, including you, will dictate my behavior or how I run this school.”
“I don’t care how you run your school. I do care about the welfare of my child, and I promise you, I repeat, I promise you, the same punishment you do to Addie for using her left hand.” It was then that Miss Bootson grudgingly relented.
The rest of the school term went without further conflict. In fact, Addie, listening to the subjects Miss Bootson taught to the other grades, did so well. Ms. Bootson was tempted to put her in second grade. Since much of the current year was over, she decided against the idea because the next year she would be starting in third grade.
When the next term began, Addie was far advanced of her classmates. Miss Bootson explained the situation to her parents, and all agreed to let her move into third. It was a good move. Addie did very well and was fully prepared for the fourth grade when the school year was over. The next term she finished fourth grade.
Florence’s health was failing, and for the next two years, Addie stayed at home helping her mother care for her little sister. Amy was in school, and George, now nine, did most of the chores around the place when his school day was over. His father continued cutting lumber. Little Gertrude was bright and bubbly, terms used by Addie for many years describing her younger sibling. In time, her mother’s health improved. Addie, wanting more education, said to her one day, “Mother, I want to return to school this fall. Now that all of us will be in school during the day, you should be all right. I’ll be home in the afternoon to do anything needing done and fix supper for everyone so you won’t have to.”
“If that’s what you want, go ahead,” Florence replied. That fall, Addie was again in Miss Bootson’s classroom entering the fifth grade. Four years later Addie finished eighth grade, and her formal education came to an end. In order to continue her education, she would need to travel several miles. This would require the purchase of her own horse and buggy and some method of boarding the horse during her classes, an additional expense, and not a realistic option. Besides, her father said, “You’re a bright girl. You don’t need any more schooling.”
“Very well,” said Addie, “I saw a sign today saying there is a job at the courthouse. It doesn’t say what job is available, so tomorrow morning I’m going there and get that job.”
“How do you know if you qualify for any job at the courthouse?” George asked.
“I don’t know. You said I’m a bright girl. I’m going to find out if you’re right.”
Chapter 5
First Job
“What can I do for you, young lady?” Mrs. Deacon, the courthouse receptionist, asked as Addie approached her desk.
“I saw the sign for a job and am here to apply for it,” was her reply.
“I’ll have to check to see what job you are talking about. I’ll be a few minutes. Please have a seat over by the window,” she said pointing to the four chairs against the wall.
Presently she returned saying as she approached Addie. “Judge Simpson of the town court needs a recording secretary to make transcripts of the proceedings. How much schooling do you have?”
“I finished the eighth grade,” was her reply.
“What is your name, and how old are you?”
“Addie May Jones, and I’ll be eighteen in two weeks,” she answered.
“Well, you look older than that,” Mrs. Deacon said as she turned back toward the courtroom. “Let me ask the judge if he has a few minutes to see you.” It was true. Addie looked older and was rather plain compared to her sisters, and in this instance, it was to her benefit. In a moment, Mrs. Deacon appeared at the door and motioned for Addie to follow her.
“Judge, this is Addie May Jones. Addie, this is Judge Simpson.”
“Hello and good morning,” he said offering his right hand while at the same time displaying a broad smile.” Mrs. Deacon says you are looking for the job of recording secretary. Do you have any secretarial experience?”
“No, sir,” Addie answered.
“And how much schooling have you had?” the judge asked.
“Eight grades.”
“I don’t know. This is a very demanding job, and I need someone who can write down every word spoken in my courtroom and who says it. This becomes the official record. There cannot be any mistakes.” Addie quickly realized her education wasn’t enough for his requirements but nevertheless spoke boldly.
“I am very good at dictation. We did mock trials in the classroom. My job was to write it all down. Ask Miss Bootson, I made no mistakes.”
“I know her well. In fact we have a meeting this afternoon regarding next school year. Meanwhile, I have just one case on today’s docket that begins in about an hour. Would you like to give it a try?”
“Yes, sir, I would, and thank you.”
“Then follow me,” he said as he turned toward the courtroom. “Come sit here at this table and write down everything you hear and who said it. There is paper and pencils in the drawer.” The case was a simple assault and lasted about fifteen minutes. Dutifully Addie recorded every word.
When the proceeding was over, Addie handed her transcript to the bailiff, then returned to Mrs. Deacon’s desk. “Thank you,” she said.
“Did you hand the transcript to the bailiff?” Mrs. Deacon asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” Addie replied.
“Let me speak to Judge Simpson before you leave,” she said disappearing through the doorway. It was several minutes before she returned. “Judge Simpson says your work is very good, but for him to hire you, you have to be at least eighteen to work in the Town Courthouse. When is your birthday?”
“In two weeks,” Addie answered.
“I’ll tell that to the judge. Come back here tomorrow morning before court opens, say about 9 a.m. This will give the judge and other court officials plenty of time to carefully look over today’s proceedings and discuss your situation. Perhaps we can work out something if everyone agrees. No one else has applied for this job. I believe you have a good chance of getting it.”
Addie was bubbling with excitement as she came into the kitchen where her mother was making bread. “Mom! I think I have a job at the courthouse as a recording secretary for Judge Simpson.”
“Really?” said Florence, “I thought you had to be eighteen to work there.”
“Yes, that’s the rule, but Judge Simpson asked
