James Hull, former Overton student

I attended Anthony Overton Elementary for only half of a year. The year was 1962. Our teacher was a gentleman named Mr. Davis, he was replaced by another teacher whose name I do not remember.

As with everyone who remembers vividly where they are on certain dates, I will never forget coming into our classroom - which was on the northeast corner of the second floor - on November 22, 1962, and listening to the public address system as a radio broadcast of the events of the assassination of President John F. Kennedy unfolded. When the announcer said that the president was dead, it was the most shocking, sickening, devastating feeling I have ever felt, to this day.

Today, I am a writer, journalist, poet and playwright, and I believe I owe every bit of it to the brief three months I spent at Anthony Overton. In the summer of 1962, my mother decided that she and I would leave my hometown of West Point, Mississippi, and she would make a better life for us in Chicago. Things did not go well, and we eventually ended up living with friends at 111 E. 49th St., an apartment building on the southwest corner of 49th and Indiana. My mother enrolled me in Anthony Overton, which. at that time was billed as the most progressive, cutting-edge elementary school in Chicago. Rather than the customary bricks and mortar, Overton was made of steel and glass. The walls were glass, allowing the sun and light to pour in. The colors of the outside world were vivid and bright. The surroundings were so stimulating to me, that I cannot explain. The thing that I remember most was the music, which was constantly played over the PA system. To this very day, I can remember sitting and listening to the soundtracks of "Oklahoma"' "Guys and Dolls", "South Pacific" "West Side Story", "Porgy and Bess" and other Broadway musicals. It was stimulating and intellectually resourceful. As I said, I believe it is this brief exposure to the innovative and progressive offerings of Anthony Overton Elementary School that is the genesis of my spiritual, creative and intellectual growth, and which led me to become an award-winning journalist, writer, poet and playwright.

Now, here is the kicker: All of these memories come bubbling forth even though I only spent about 90 days in rhe school, and have never been back to Anthony Overton or 49th and Indiana, since December of 1962. Since walking out of that school for the last time. I have never laid eyes on it again, nor have I ever been back to the neighborhood.

Just a few weeks after the Kennedy assassination, my mother decided to move us back to Mississippi, mainly because she was afraid that the inner-city surrounding of harshness, starkness and crime would have an adverse affect on my growth and development. I believe she is right. I had rapidly become predisposed to bringing home comic books, which I couldn't explain how I obtained ( I "lifted" them from a nearby L-train newsstand), and I had started talking back, something not tolerated in the South.

So, we moved back to Mississippi, and I cried every mile of the highway back down South. I hated - hated- leaving Anthony Overton School. I don't know who will read this, or if it will even be read. But I can honestly say that if there is such a thing as a life-changing, or life-defining, or life-developing experience, mine is Anthony Overton Elementary School.

God Bless,

Rev. James L. Hull

Tupelo, Mississippi