The Oakdale Express
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Winter 2008
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As I was putting this edition of The Oakdale Express together, I kept running into a brick wall
as I tried to develop articles. My last obstacle was to come up with something to end the
newsletter to try to tie it all together. So, here it goes...
I never knew Oakdale in the days of steam engines, except for the occasional one that passed
through town on a special excursion of some type. However, I do feel linked to that time in
Oakdale's history. My dad was born in Oakdale in 1936, so his youthful days of running
around town coincided with Southern Railway's transition from steam engines to diesel
engines. Growing up, Dad told us story after story about Oakdale and the steam engines. I
used to imagine what it would have been like when steam engines traveled through town every
few minutes.
The only reminder of those days of steam engines and all that smoke is "the bell." I have to
admit that I have rung the bell more than once. As I was growing up in Oakdale, my Girl Scout
troop met at the Oakdale City Hall - the old city hall where the bell hung on the wall. We could
not resist ringing the bell every once in a while. Dad had told us the story behind the bell, and
being drawn to the town's history at a young age, I always thought that bell was really special.
Now the bell rests in the "new" city hall, and unless someone is specifically looking for it, it
could easily be overlooked. While putting the article together about the bell, someone asked
me if it was still around. Hopefully, as people see the article, they will make it a point to stop by
city hall and see the bell for themselves. On most days, the city hall is open.
As I have stated before, my dad worked for the railroad for more than 34 years with almost all
those years being spent in the Oakdale and Harriman area. When he was first transferred to
Oakdale, one of his mentors on the job just happened to have also been his Boy Scout leader.
The man was Lonnie Hoskins. Mr. Hoskins had a tremendous impact on my dad - both as an
adolescent and an adult, and through the years, Mr. Hoskins' family also had an impact on me.
His wife, Joanne, was my 2nd and 3rd grade reading teacher and was also my Sunday School
teacher. She was such a sweet lady and an excellent teacher. Their son Sam was my 4th
grade math teacher and was the Assistant Principal/Title 1 teacher during my senior year.
This past November, Sam passed away after battling oral cancer for four and half years. He
was one of those people that you can never forget.
My favorite memory of Sam has to be the night of my high school graduation - May 16, 1980.
The ceremony took place in the school gym where a small stage had been set up. The stage
was about 6 inches or so off the ground. About a third of the way into the commencement
exercises, a series of events took place that changed the course of our graduation that night.
As the valedictorian was giving his speech, he feinted right in the middle of his delivery.
Gasps went up from the graduates, the parents, the family members, and everyone else. He
was carried out of the gym by his parents and the people sitting on stage. Within a few
minutes everyone had returned to the gym and the ceremony continued. Sam was to speak
next as he introduced the guest speaker who just happened to be his brother, Dr. William
Hoskins. Instead of saying he wanted to introduce his brother, Sam misspoke and said he
wanted to recommend his brother. This brought a hushed laughter from the crowd. Dr.
Hoskins approached the speaker's podium, and Sam returned to his chair on the stage. That
was when things really started to happen.
When the valedictorian feinted, chairs had been pushed back so people could attend to him.
As Sam sat down in his chair, he had no idea that the back legs were barely clinging to the
stage. As soon as he made contact with the chair, a huge roar arose from the stage area.
The lattice divider wall used as a backdrop for the stage had hit the floor with a resounding
splat. As I looked to see what had happened, all I could see of Sam were his legs kicking up
and down as his chair fell backwards off the stage. Another gasp from the crowd could be
heard, then the roar of laughter. Of course, Sam wasn't hurt - except for his pride.
Another memory I have of Sam also occurred during my senior year. As yearbook editor, I had
control of the keys to the darkroom as well as the hall pass, which I carried with me at all times.
Sam had a problem with my "permanent" hall pass and told me that if he ever caught me in the
hall without a pass, then he would give me detention every day for the rest of the school year.
In mid-February, I was in English IV class when the school secretary buzzed the room to tell my
teacher and yearbook advisor (Vera Scarbrough) that the yearbook company was on the
phone and needed to speak to her. She told me to come with her, and I did - leaving my purse
and my hall pass behind. After Vera talked a few minutes, she handed the phone to me so I
could help resolve the problem, and she returned to the classroom. When I hung up the phone
and started to leave, there Sam stood at the office door, just waiting for me step into the
hallway. I turned to the secretary and asked if she would write me a pass to get back to class.
She wrote something on a slip of paper, folded it, and handed it to me. As I left the office, I
kept my head down, hoping Sam would not say anything - wrong!
I had no more than put one foot into the hallway when I heard, "Young lady, may I see your hall
pass." I handed Sam the note, hoping the secretary's hand-written pass would keep me out of
detention. When Sam read the note, he burst out laughing and told me to get back to class.
He handed the note back to me, and I scurried down the hall, thankful I could keep my record of
no detentions in tack. I just had to read the note to see what made Sam laugh so hard. The
note said, "Sam, leave this child alone." I have no doubt, however, Sam would have kept his
word and put me in detention for the rest of the school year had I not had the note.
Through the years, I accumulated many more memories of Sam as we worked in youth league
baseball and football, as we became colleagues, and as he and I began our battles with
cancer around the same time. I was very saddened by his passing and still find it hard not to
see him in the halls of Oakdale School.
Although the younger students at Oakdale School will never know him, each time they enter the
Sam Hoskins Elementary Gym, they will always be reminded that there was a special teacher
and principal who loved Oakdale School very much.
Sam had a tremendous impact on Oakdale students for almost three decades. I can only
hope that I was half the educator that he was. So Sam...thanks for the memories!
Regina Headden
Oakdale High School Class of 1980
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