 in Francisco, one of the more densely populated cities of the United States. People have gathered here for reasons of commerce, shipping, industry, and some just for the sheer pleasure of living in this picturesque city, which rises sharply out of the Pacific Ocean. Across the continent on another ocean is another city, New York. This city is the financial center of the country. Here, people participate in the industrial and artistic endeavors of a metropolis. Bounded on all sides by water, Manhattan has built itself high into the sky. Many people live in large cities, but lots of people live in smaller cities, too, like Tampa, Florida. Like most countries, however, the United States is made up mostly of small towns. For reasons best known to themselves, people choose their town. Many times, it's a man's job that decides where he and his family will live. Many times, a person simply stays in the town where he was born. Each small town, like each city, has its own reason for being. Some of the towns are industrial, others agricultural. In the state of Alabama across the Coosa River, where the Appalachian foothills end, is the town of Wheatumka. This was a town built to serve the needs of agricultural people, and that's still its main purpose. Wheatumka is the county seat of Elmore County, but it serves three bordering counties as well. Farmers from the surrounding communities can pretty well buy what they need here and sell what they have for the market. It's a good town for Saturday nights, too. Being the county seat, they have a fine courthouse, nice new post office, too. The communities that use Wheatumka as a trading center, a widespread. Several miles west of Wheatumka is the community of Hopeville. It's a scattered community, no post office, no telephone exchange. The people are farmers. They live a long way apart. They don't have any industries or stores all gathered in a place that you could call a town. This is the way Hopeville looks at a busy time of day. It's a busy time of day. All right, the men are out working in their fields, and the women are busy in their homes. The cotton gin down the road runs full time during the harvest season. You'd think Hopeville was pretty big to see the damn private industry built here in their community, but this is a dam that serves the whole of Elmore County, bringing to the people an expensive electrical power. Yes, the people in the community of Hopeville live a long way apart. Sometimes it's a mile or more between houses, but their neighbor's just the same. Like other farmers elsewhere, they benefited in the shift of the relation of farm prices to commodity prices. But that was just one of the things that helped Hopeville prosper. A community usually has a focal point. In this community, it happens to be the Hopeville School. To understand a community at all, you have to get at its focal point. So in this case, by examining its school, you'll come to know Hopeville itself. These children are practicing for the big day, homecoming. Homecoming arrives. The people of the entire community are guests of the school. Today, the primary grades take over the program. Everyone is having a good time getting something that the community needs besides. For these people that participated in a vote, an unusual vote for here, their votes cost money. The vote selected the junior homecoming queen. The money will be used for the school dental clinic. And the afternoon is the big footwork. This is one game that Hopeville has to win. Then at the big dance in the evening, the senior homecoming queen is crowned. Her votes help to pay for the homecoming expenses. Always behind a community are its leaders. In Hopeville, there are men like B.E. Myrick. He's chairman of the district trustees. And there's A.W. Curlie. There are lots of Curlies in Hopeville. This one is a district trustee, Clyde Brown. Supervisor of community services as well as being a district trustee. A good carpenter too. It takes a lot of planning and a lot of work to start a community and to keep it going. Here's the principal of the high school, James Critsburg. He actually started to become principal of this high school when he was all about 10 years old. This is James Critsburg, 10 years of age. Young, Jim Critsburg. Jim was born and brought up about 20 miles from Hopeville. He was growing up at a time when the South was in dire straits agriculture. It seems you could put in seed by the bushel and still have only a few stalks come up to the sunlight. Even what you got wasn't any good. By unwise and wasteful methods, land that was rich and plentiful was now scarce and impoverished. The problem, ignorance. Ignorance of the land itself. Ignorance that was shared everywhere. The land would be all right at first. Then it would wear out as the farmers put it. And you had to move on to another farm, another days of planting and hoping. A man couldn't live very fine that way. It didn't seem to matter how hard you worked. You never got any kind of crop anyway. There were no mechanical tools to make a man's work easier. They couldn't afford to buy them. A man just had to figure that it was going to be the same way next year and the years right on after that. But maybe when you hated it the most was when you'd see your son doing the same thing as you. Just no change at all. It would be better maybe to drive your son off the farm, get him off some place where he could make a living. No, it wasn't that a man was lazy. He worked all right. It was just that he got nothing for his work. The very young felt this hopelessness too. A car from another state. Well, now that was something. Michigan. That car is from way off in Michigan. Do you think we'll ever go there? You couldn't blame them for the way they felt. It wasn't just the natural excitement of children about something far off. They felt a need to get away. Nothing was so important that you wouldn't stop long enough to see a car go by. No, sir. Where do you suppose those people are going? And what on earth are they doing way down here? Suppose they're just going through. Just going through. Of course, the speed, the length, and power of a train were always exciting. But there was a deeper and more poignant meaning. This train was evidence that other states, other places existed. Just think of all the places you could go to on a train. You could go where there weren't any mules. Where there wasn't any cotton. You could go where you'd never have to work as hard as dad. There were such places. That's what the train meant to these children and escape to some kind of wonderland. To distant places, to adventure, to romance. This was a means of getting away from the poverty of their land and their lives. But to Jim Critsburg in a neighboring county, the train had another meaning. Sure, he was excited by the power, the speed, and the length of it. But his reaction was different. This train was a product of man's planning and intelligence. Evidence of man's infinite capacity for solving his problems, if only he would face them. Certainly a train carries things to strange and different places, but a train that goes away from you comes to you first. If a train was a means of escape, it was equally a sign of hope. His disturbance came not so much from the fact that there was a problem, but from the attitude of his elders towards that problem. There they go again, talking about dust. Sun, mules, poor crops, times are tough, hardly worth working. Why doesn't anybody ever say, what can we do about it? The land did good things for some people, lots of people. The soil that produces this beauty must be good, he figures. It has to be. Jim likes this country, the way it looks, the way the dirt feels between his toes, the way it smells. Of course, the land is good. Things do grow without any help. He could remember his grandfather saying how rich the land used to be. There's water, sun, and besides, this is home. There must be an answer. There has to be. If nobody else finds it, it's his job to try. Of course, events sometimes keep you from doing what you planned, just when you plan to do them. This happened to Jim with the First World War. Then there are other things that catch up with you and make you happy, like a marriage. Jim Critsburg held to his purpose to work with the rural people of Alabama. Upon leaving the army, he came to teach in the city of Montgomery, capital of Alabama, in order to keep looking for his rural school. Although he didn't know it, about 25 miles away, a community was looking for him. Holtville was stirring. Their school had burned down. They wanted a new school. Ordinarily, the county would have built such a school, but this was a new age. Now there were automobiles and buses. We, Tumka, the county seat, thought it would be better to add a wing to their school and bring the Holtville children in by bus. It was a nice school, but the people of Holtville wanted their own school. Somehow, the people in the Tumka were different. They lived in different kinds of houses. They worked in offices, had different kinds of businesses. The Holtville children were just plain farm folks. So the people of Holtville talked among themselves. They planned various fundraising functions. Finally, after many months of working and planning, they raised $6,000 hard dollars from their small earnings, dollars which said, we want our own school. They got it. While the school was being built, they held classes in the church and began looking around for, yes, a new principal. They found him, James Critsburg. Jim Critsburg felt an inner excitement as he approached Holtville. This was the school he'd always looked for. The first stop was at AC Allen's store. AC was president of the County Board of Education. This is AC's son, with a normal interest in events of the day. And this was an event. Jim was happy to have an opportunity to introduce his family, his wife and the twins. Mr. Allen tried to make them feel at home. Young Jimmy Allen spied two friends. And the twins spied him too. They were going to like Jimmy. They were going to like Holtville. This was a friendly place. That fall, the new school opened. The Board of Trustees came for opening day. Although they had their school and their principal and classes were functioning, much of the important work was taking place off the school grounds. J.R. Formby was brought in as vocational agricultural teacher. At the same time that Jim Critsburg was obtained as principal. Mr. Formby salary was paid partly by the federal government and partly by the state. Formby, like Critsburg, was born only 20 miles away. He too knew the land and the people. Both he and Mr. Critsburg knew that there was little sense in teaching the children new methods. Unless these new methods could be used on their parents' farms. Part of Formby's school duties was to work out ways and means of teaching the older generation at the same time he was teaching the younger. The condition of the soil told him how difficult the job would be. Formby would spend some part of every day visiting the farmers in their homes, making himself known. He would wind up his visits for the suggestion that he was thinking of holding some night meetings at the school. At which they could discuss some of the soil and crop problems. He was careful not to call the meeting a class. That would be a touchy subject. Older people don't like to think they have to go back to school. Visits were endless, distances great, encouragement little. There was always one more farm to visit before a day was done. But day after day, mile after mile, farm after farm, Formby kept at it. At last he felt the time had come to call the first meeting. The farmers had been pleasant enough, but would they come? They came. A small group, but it was a beginning. They listened. But did they hear or care? From their unresponsive faces, Formby couldn't tell. As one man put it when the meeting was over, while he'd ward out three farms while Mr. Formby was learning. This wasn't it. Talk alone wouldn't do it. These men would have to be shown. He would keep up the classes, but he would also grow something, show them what he was talking about. On a piece of land owned by the school, Formby planted a patch of cotton. Sunday mornings, farmers would come to look over the field he was working. A farmer may not pay much heed to talk. He hears a lot of talk, but he knows a good crop when he sees it. And this was a good crop, better than theirs. All four of these men admitted it was better than theirs. Maybe this man, Formby, did know something. On this same day, Formby came to the field. He was looking for something too. The farmers hadn't said anything about his crops at the meetings, but they were beginning to ask questions. He was wondering why they changed their attitude. He found his answer. Now he could put the two generations together. By the project method, a project on his father's farm, Mr. Formby could teach a student new methods and know that the father would watch with interest. A project worked like this. Take Johnny Nixon's case. Mr. Formby came over to explain it all to Mr. Nixon. In order to complete his course in farming, Johnny would have to have a three-year project. And for that project, Johnny needs land. The school will furnish seeds and information. Johnny will do the work. But the boy needs land and fertilizer. Johnny will do all the work himself. But the fertilizer had to be furnished in the kind and the amount specified by the school. Mr. Nixon decided to let Johnny have a piece of land for his project. It would be good for the boy at school. And besides, it might be good to see one of these projects worked out on his own land. That's what he thought to himself. This way he could get all the details. Mr. Nixon watched Johnny throughout three years of cotton raising. At the end of the third year, he stood for the third time to examine the staple and the bloom of the best cotton that had ever been grown on Nixon land. And it was Johnny's cotton. An odd-looking school building, isn't it? It should be. It houses a few surprising educational projects. A young farmer today has to know his car and machine tools, as well as his grandfather knew his horses and mules, a full-fledged machine shop. This shop serves the community from the making of cotter pins to the rebuilding of hydroelectric equipment. Under the guidance of one master toolsmith, the students perform most of the work and receive full scholastic credit. If you lived in Holtville and needed some work done on your car, you'd undoubtedly send it to the school repair shop. As with the machine shop, here the students work under an instructor, learning how to take care of the engines and the bodies of all kinds of cars. Some of these students do become professional auto mechanics. But the purpose of the course is to see to it that the young farmer is able to keep his automobile in useful condition. One of the earliest of the school community projects was butchering and the proper storage of meat in a deep freeze locker. Originally, Mr. Formby taught the boys to butcher. Now, one of Mr. Formby's pupils has become the teacher and the manager of the deep freeze plan. So important to the diet of the community is this butchering, that students in the butchering group are excused from other classes when necessary. Whenever a farmer has any stock to be butchered, he may call the school. The students studying butchering do the rest. After the meat has been properly cooled in the refrigeration room, the boys are taught how to butcher it. As with the other projects, the education of the student is geared to a service to the community. The community service isn't on a charity basis. A proper fee is charged. And the school derives revenue to carry on its operations. The school has played an important part in the increasing use of farm machinery throughout the county. At a time when most individual farms couldn't afford machines, the school acquired two tractors and trained the students to use them. Today, Mr. Formby's classes quickly become expert at contour ploughing. Under Mr. Formby's direction, the students survey the field, stake out the contour lines, and trace the furrows so as to retain the greatest amount of rainfall with the least gloss of top soil. Being born on the farm doesn't mean you have to be a farmer. These students, for example, decided they'd like to run a printing press. The school ferried out some old printing machines. The machine shop put them in shape. And now a printing press is in operation. They print a local paper. They do church programs, business cards, entertainment programs, and odd jobs desired by the community. The fees for these services will pay for the equipment and increase the operating funds for the school. A goodly proportion of the boys who have passed through this operation have gone on to jobs and printing establishments in Montgomery and other cities. The boys doing editorial work here are learning to express themselves in clear English. And are given full academic credit in English for the time spent in shop. What we eat has much to do with what we are. These girls are learning the preparation of simple foods. What constitutes a balanced diet and how to plan and budget the costs of a proper diet for a family. The teacher, Mrs. Holt, recognized at once the all-too-limited diet customary in the community. Through the years, her influence has shown itself in many ways. She maps out the school diet in the cafeteria. Here, every school day, children learn to like new foods, new tastes. Little by little, they ask for these dishes at home. Little by little, mother finds out about them and serves them. The older girls set home projects for themselves. This young lady discovered her family didn't like carrots. She had experimented with various ways of serving carrots in order to find one which would be palatable to her family. Tonight, she has shredded raw carrots into a molded lime salad. Tonight, it's project achieved. If a girl becomes handy with a needle and sewing machine and learns how to use a basic pattern, she can do much to satisfy her own desire for nice clothes without being unfair to the family budget. Frequently, a girl will set for herself a home project to make an article of clothing for another member of the family. Out of this particular project comes a new relationship between mother and daughter. Mother now knows how much her daughter cares, how she looks. The school has learned what a help the county board of education can be. The board of trustees and Mr. Critsburg come to Wheat Thumpker regularly to discuss school problems with the county superintendent and members of the county board of education. The board, too, has learned to respect the Holtville requests, because Holtville is always ready to do its share to keep expenses at a minimum. Today, the school would like some paint to freshen up the agriculture building. The county supplies the paint. The school supplies the painters. The students, under the direction of a teacher, run their own store, handle the money, and check the daily orders. There is space also for a variety of games and recreation. The campus has two good tennis courts and a regulation football field. In recent years, the school has extended its health activities. One end of the science building houses a dental clinic. By contributing a portion of his salary, the school receives monthly visits from the county dentist. Good teeth are a primary factor in good health. First graders get a thorough examination. For the earlier you start, good care of the teeth, the less trouble develops later. In the last four years, the community has reduced the number of cavities found in the teeth of first graders by more than half. Now, now, fella, it's not that bad. At the beginning of the school year, a physical examination is given each pupil, and the results entered in the child's permanent health record. What goes on here at Holtville has become of increasing interest to other schools in the state and even beyond the state. Each week brings a group of visiting teachers or educators who review the activities of a school day and then meet with the faculty for questions and discussions. Over in Montgomery, the state board of education has a very deep interest in the happenings at Holtville. It was the foresight of the state board coupled with a group of educators known as the Southern Association, which made the Holtville at the day possible. This group was the Committee on Courses of Study, meeting today with Dr. Meadows, state superintendent. The state board cut the Holtville school free from normal requirements. The Southern Association helped devise and evaluate new teaching techniques. As chairman of the subcommittee on Courses of Study for Rural Schools, Mr. Kritzberg has received much help and stimulation from his fellow members. And in turn, he is given richly from the experiences at Holtville. The invaluable working relationships of people like these is living proof that public officials can be public servants. Montgomery offers advantages in indirect ways, too. As the state capital, it is the seat of government in the center of political activity. With a population of approximately 100,000, it's a sizable city. Its shops, its varied industries, its railroad yards, its bus terminals, its newspapers hold much of interest for an inquiring mind. The encouragement given students at Holtville to look sharply at the actual pattern of life into which they soon must fit sends many a girl or boy to this nearby city. This bright Saturday morning, young Joe is coming in on a special mission. His mother and aunt drop him off at the office of the Montgomery Advertiser. No one has made any arrangements for Joe. This visit is part of his current project at the school. And the responsibility for its completion is his alone. He finds his way to an editor's office, walks in, and without any preamble comes to the point. I'd like to find out how you're on a newspaper, he says. The editor is taken aback at the size of his inquisitor and the seriousness of his intent. After all, it's Saturday and he has some work to catch up on. Suppose you come back some other day, Sonny. But I got to know, says Joe, something in the boy's manner intrigues the editor. Come around here. Why have you got to know? Because, Joe says, I go to a school where we have projects. My project is to find out how you're on a newspaper. I got to tell him on Monday, so I got to know today. The kid was perky. He answered right back. Besides, he's in the spot. Well, come on, Sonny. Let's get started. They go first to the city room. The assignments are made here by the city editor and written by reporters. Then the stories are edited and sent down the chute to the composing room. Down here, the story is set into type. Joe begins to feel at home now. He meets the managing editor. The type setter takes time to show him how the machine works. Next, a visit to the press room, where the foreman gives Joe a clear explanation of how a paper is printed. Upstairs again, the editor surprises Joe. How about writing a couple of articles for us? The editor didn't know that in six months' time, Joe would be a regular correspondent with pay. Always the school's objective is the fullest development of the individual. At Holtville, during the senior year, each senior is required to present a written report to the assembled faculty. This report expresses from the student's viewpoint what the years at Holtville have meant. It is a critical analysis of these years and speaks of the teachers and the experiences which, to the pupil, seemed helpful, and also of the classes and experiences which, to the pupil, seemed less than satisfactory. In return, the various faculty members speak with equal frankness about those qualities and habits in the student, which, in their opinion, must be altered or improved if the student is to achieve the goals which he has set for himself. The significant fact about these interchanges of thoughts and feelings lies not in whether the pupil or the faculty member is right or wrong, but simply in the fact that these interchanges happen. In the building which houses the deep freeze locker is a canning plant. If the boys, by butchering, could increase the meat diet, the girls decided they could help by keeping vegetables and fruits on the table by starting a canning plant. Whenever a group of students comes up seriously with a project, the school considers itself obligated to help them get the project underway. By asking questions, the school found that the state had a canning plant which wasn't in use. They obtained the plant on loan from the state, and now in the harvest season, students, families, and friends keep the plant running at capacity. Doing things in a group somehow takes the tedium out of work, and the modern equipment at the plant makes the process much faster and much simpler than canning at home. When the cans are ready, the food is taken home. Throughout the nine months of the year when school is in session, meat is taken home regularly from the deep freeze lockers by the students. Any farm able to raise its own beef or pork may store it in the school freezer. Mother then gives her order to one of the children who picks the meat up just before going home. With classes out and school over for the day, the buses take the children and the meat back home. Tramping down the lanes and through the fields, Mr. Kritzberg reviews the conferences, discussions, meetings, and experiences. Sharply and critically, he asks himself, what are we driving at? Increase each student's ability to earn his living well. Teach him to use what he has to the best advantage. Improve his critical judgment so he may know what he needs next most. Learn the value of health to accomplishments and pleasures. Recognize his responsibility towards the family welfare. Realize that helping a neighbor solve his problem or overcome a difficulty is the deepest kind of self-interest. These are the goals of a practical education at Holtville. Almost any evening in a corner store, there's talk about crops, the weather, politics. Of course, there's always the telephone to interrupt when the talk gets good. What? Fire? At the Holtville School? The fire was in the building which contained the deep freeze locker and the canning plan. There isn't much chance of putting out a fire with water in a rural community. There isn't that kind of pressure in the water pipes. You save what you can, watch it burn, and keep it from spreading. There's no insurance, not a penny of insurance. Don't ask why it's one of those things that happened. They knew school insurance was needed, but there were problems concerning the type of insurance which could be made available. The answer wasn't quick enough, that's all. Four important community services, the deep freeze locker, the canning plant, the printing press, and the hatchery. Four important teaching tools, now ashes and charred brick. How raised the money to get these services started again? Should they call the community together, explain the urgency? Mr. Kritzberg thought no. The people that had these things had used them fully. How long would it take the people to miss them and want them back? The people should answer this question, not the school. During the months that followed, not much was said about restoring the lost services, but life went on as it usually does. The school is also the recreational center for the community. Here in the gymnasium, once every week, whether school keeps or not, the men and women gather for some plain and fancy bowling. There's only one alley and that one homemade, but the heat's on when the pinball starts to roll. Because of the lone alley, the players have a long wait between turns. Some play cards, others talk, and some watch and talk. People don't come here to watch other people play. They come to play, too. You don't have to be much of a bowler. The mere fact that you want to join in makes you welcome on one of the two teams. Farm life isn't so lonely if you can get together once in a while in the evenings and have a little fun. Here comes a load of oats ready for the thresher. The threshing machine was bought several years ago by the school. Matter of fact, it was the first machine the school bought as a community service to enable farmers to grow oats as a rotating crop. With the thresher available, more and more farmers have been growing oats. Recently, a young man bought the thresher from the school. He continues to operate it as his own business and turns the income into improvements on his own farm. When the community expresses a need, the school undertakes to meet it. When the project develops to the point where it can support itself, anyone who wants to may buy the equipment from the school and carry on the service as his private venture. This is the school woodworking shop. Originally, it was built and operated by the school for the people in the community to earn cash. Cash to enable them to buy the goods and machines necessary to the improvement of their homes or farms. Now, the school rents the plant to an individual who runs it as a personal enterprise. Drawing good paychecks every week are some 45 members of the community. New deep freeze plant. The people did miss it. They had to have it back. This deep freeze alone is as large as the whole building that burned. With two or three experts to help and guide, the students built this plant themselves. Locker space is plentiful. Habit is a strong force. The people became used to eating meat regularly. Now it's a necessity. More and more farmers are raising their own beef and pork. On any Saturday afternoon, you'll find the deep freeze a busy place. Today, the school has its own fire wagon. Throughout the community, tractors and farm machinery are becoming common. This farmer went to the machine shop and made himself a home-grown fertilized spreader and cedar. A farmer can't afford not to have a machine these days. This farmer had the machine shop built him an eccentric. Now he shakes the pecan from his trees with his tractor. There's a lot of building going on in Hopeville. The old folks are sprucing up. More and more of the younger people are staying in the community. Even some of those who went away to college are coming back and settling down. Here are the people who carry a share of responsibility for Hopeville. They have organized and formed a business group which meets every month. Openly, they discuss the community's needs and problems. They face reality. Reality both is to problem and as to solution. They agree to agree on a plan of action. They take action. If the action proves a mistake, they try again. Many more projects have failed than have succeeded. But they keep on trying until the problem is solved. All of this has taken years. Years of getting to know each other. Years of finding out how to work together. Years in which they have developed mutual trust and confidence. They know the only people who can solve their problems are they themselves. Solved them by their own intelligence and by their own work. By coming up with their own solutions, Hopeville has received the aid of state and federal agencies. But only to the extent that such aid is available to any community. They face the future with confidence. For they have learned that a man and his neighbor are strong. And that a man and all his neighbors are stronger still. Mr. Kritzberg stands on the same hill where he stood as a boy. He likes this land, the way it smells, the sun, the brooks, the trees. And he likes the people. The people who have shared within the experiences discovering that man has an infinite capacity for solving his own problems. This is Home.