“What I remember about Mrs. Shuey was her wall. In the 5th and 6th grade, we had the same teacher, Mr. Florance, who I really liked, and a Mrs. Morton, who I thought was the ‘Wicked Witch of the East.’ Anyway, when we were deemed to have been bad and sent to the office, you had to sit on the wall (Shuey’s Wall) during recess and lunch. If you were evil, you could be sitting there for a week…somebody, not me.”
– Ronald Bone Sr. (1953-57)
Mrs. Shuey had a spot saved on the wall outside her office for me in the afternoon. I was always in a fight and I don’t know why; I didn’t look for trouble and I stayed to myself, but it just seemed like when some kid was having a bad day, they would look me up. I would make their day a lot worse. I grew up getting kicked by horses, ha, ha! Anyway, Mrs. Shuey actually took me to lunch one day at a little burger stand on Mission Drive and San Gabriel Blvd., next to the carwash and convinced me to just walk away from them. I think it worked, not sure! Yeah, she caught me riding my bike from the lot to the street…there used to be a male teacher there who taught 6th grade. He grabbed me from behind, he never tried that one again, it got ugly, that’s when Mrs. Shuey took me to lunch and gave me the talk. My first job out of high school was cleaning swimming pools. I was 19 and the company sent me up to the Glendora area to start. I was cleaning the first pool and out walked Mrs. Shuey, saying ‘well, it if isn’t little Michael Brady!’ For a moment, I thought I was back in school, ha, ha!”
– Mike Brady
“I was a parent, not a student I felt she watched over her school like a mother hen. If I went to her with problem, she would listen carefully and a time or two, I offered suggestions that she actually thought good and used my idea.”
– Shirley Anne Wigglesworth
“Mrs. Shuey was my sister’s kindergarten teacher at Savannah School in 1940.”
– Don Bathrick
“I have a story about Mrs. Shuey, when I was in the 4th grade, we had a teacher who, when she got angry, would pull our hair, throw books at us, and jerk us out of our seats and make us stand in the corner. Mrs. Shuey personally came and walked her out of our classroom, was gone for a little bit, and when she came back, she taught the class for the rest of the day. We never saw that teacher again. Whatever you thought about Mrs. Shuey when she came into the room, you knew she was in charge.”
– Kenny Wilson
“I attended Wells Grammar School when it first opened. I was in the third grade and Mrs. Shuey was the principal. I thought it was a good school. I remember we each had a little strip to grow a small garden (5 by 8 feet). I, being a car guy even at that age, liked Mrs. Shuey’s blue 1953 DeSoto and Mr. Steven’s black and white Cadillac.”
– Jack Leigh
“I loved Mrs. Shuey. She always told me how beautiful my hair was most days of each school week, but I was indeed cautious to eat and not play at lunch time, as I had see the ‘shakings’ that Mrs. Shuey gave to those who played at the lunch table instead of eating.”
– Debbie Wilson
“I just remember Mrs. Shuey as truly being a ‘lady’ – she was always dressed to the hilt and I remember her high heel shoes looking like they were too big or her feet! She was wonderful and I know my mother who worked there loved her to death! I remember all of the great teachers we had…Mrs. George, Mrs. Prince, Mrs. Rushmore. They were the generation of great educators and you sure didn’t mess around in their classes.”
– Cathy Kato Macri (1965-66)
“I remember her as a bit stooped over, wore sensible shoes, had a professional demeanor, and was lenient to kids like me who are always getting in trouble. She was fair. Especially when I got in trouble with Mrs. Murley I wound up ‘in the principals’ office but got off easier than I thought I would. I think I just had a bad mouth (lousy inheritance from my father), and it grated on Mrs. Murley, but I would be cooled off by the time I got to Mrs. Shuey’s office. Then she would be kind to me and send me back to class after a mild warning. Once time, however, my father made a memorable appearance at the school after Mrs. Murley grabbed my sweater and twisted me around and I went home crying to him. He came back to school in a rage and Mrs. Shuey ended up calling the police (odd, because my dad was a cop!) I don’t know how it ended; I tend to block those things out. I just remember seeing Mrs. Shuey trying to defuse the situation and remaining calm.”
– Suzanne Helms (1964-65)
“At Wells School (before it was renamed Shuey School, of course) there was a line demarcating the playground with the younger kids playing on one side while the older kids played on the other. Being the youngest of three kids and growing up on Willard Street, where there were a lot of sports always taking place, I usually played with the older kids during recess. One of the substitute field monitors noticed that I was out of place and stopped our baseball game. She told me that I needed to join the younger kids on the other side of the line. At that point the other kids came to my defense and protested, point out that I always played with them. The monitor lady wouldn’t give in and grabbed my arm and drug me off the field. That should have been the end of the story but I made matters much worse by pulling away from her and adding, ‘Take your hands off me, you ‘bit**!’ I don’t recall when I learned that word but I knew it made the woman mad. Boy, did it! She picked me up and took me to the principal’s office, Mrs. Shuey.
The monitor explained what had happened and Mrs. Shuey asked me if what she said was true. I confirmed her story but I explained that I always played on that side of the line. Mrs. Shuey ignored my plea and asked again if I used the ‘B’ word. I confirmed that I did. She then asked me if I knew what it meant and I responded that I didn’t exactly know. All through the questioning there stood a wooden paddle at the end of her desk. At that moment, Mrs. Shuey left me alone in here room. I sat there staring at her paddle. After a few moments she returned and said the price I had to pay for cursing was ten swats with her wooden paddle. I remember her saying, ‘If you put your hands to cover up, I will not count that one.
I took all ten swats and never called a teacher a curse word the rest of my school days!
I never said a word to anyone after leaving Mrs. Shuey’s office that day. I didn’t tell my siblings, any of my friends, no one. It wasn’t until I was in high school that my mother brought up my paddling from Mrs. Shuey. I was shocked. How did she know? It turned out that when Mrs. Shuey left her office that eventful day, she had called my mother asking for permission to paddle me. My mother gladly gave her permission for me to be paddled. Boy, I thought nobody knew! During my high school years, I went back to visit Wells School during the May Day Festival and saw Mrs. Shuey off in the distance. As I approached her, she said, ‘I know you, you are one of the Jacobsen boys!” We had a laugh together about my paddling…. She was a great lady! One of the best in my book!”
– Gary Jacobsen (1956-58)
“Most of the boys in my class feared Mrs. Shuey and the reason was because we were always messing around! I thought it strange that of all the kids in school, Mrs. Shuey would know MY name! She seemed to know every kid’s name.”
“I remember two incidents involving my bicycle. The rule was, you had to walk your bike from the bike lot to the street. One day, I thought no one was looking, so I rode my bike from the lot to the street, and then down to the wash area at Wells St./Delta. Then Mrs. Shuey rolls up in her car, and yelled at me: ‘Henry! I saw you riding your bike from the lot to the street! Just for that, you will keep your bike home for a week and you can walk to school!” Boy, was I mad!”
“Then just before school let out, I was riding my bike from Stone’s Liquor to my house on San Gabriel Blvd. There was no sidewalk. A San Gabriel Police Dept. motorcycle cop was parked on the curb and I biked right past him. He yelled at me to come over. And he traumatized me by issuing me a ticket for riding on the sidewalk! He asked me where I went to school and he said he was going over to talk to my principal.”
“The next day, I went to see Mrs. Shuey, and I was afraid she was going to give me additional punishment. Instead, she told me that the cop had no business giving me a ticket! She sided with me! Then my entire attitude about her changed 180 degrees!”
– Henry Sakaida (1964-65)
“My name is Richard W. Huddleston and I attended Wells’ elementary school from 1954-1960. The school was only one year old. At that time the school ran from 1st to 6th, Kindergarten was added a few years later. The play ground was divided in half. 1st, 2nd, and 3rd grades had the eastern half of the play ground and the field while the 4th, 5th, and 6th grades had possession of the western half of the playground and the field.”
“Mrs. George was my first grade teacher, Mrs. Corn my second and Mrs. Roosevelt my third grade teacher. For the life of me I can’t remember my 4th grade teacher’s name. For 5th grade I had Mrs. Whittier and my favorite, Mr. Florence for 6th grade.”
“I first met Mrs. Shuey in the fall of 1954 and would come to see her many times over the next 6 years. I was always the one who got caught talking in class or laughing or failing to turn in my homework and as a result was always the one who was sent to the office.”
“My mother and Mrs. Shuey were close friends which made my office visits all the more uncomfortable. Mrs. Shuey was a small moderately thin woman with an eagle-like stare from coal dark eyes that softened when she smiled. She was always sharply dressed in a business dress suit, usually of dark blue with a frilled snow-white blouse. She moved in quick rapid steps in her black high-heeled shoes. When she was outside she usually wore dark sunglasses that flared up into pointed outside corners. She had dark frizzy hair that was brushed up and back somewhat like in the film “The Bride of Frankenstein” but not so extreme. Gray was already streaking her hair. If I had to guess I would put her height at about five-feet one inch tall. She had narrow shoulders. She was a stern, serious woman. I rarely saw her out of her office. However, she always attended our school ceremonies like our ‘Halloween parade’ and our ‘May Day celebrations’ with the May pole. She was always professional and although she was stern she was always fair. Often I had to sit in the hard wood straight back chair in the corner of her small office for talking in class or some other such offense and I would watch her work. She was focused on her work and never looked up. With a fountain pen in her right hand she would make extensive notes and sign a pile of paperwork. She worked in complete silence. The only sound was the rapid fire of the manual typewriter coming from the front office. After a while Mrs. Shuey would put down her pen and turn her eagle stare directly at me and proceeded to give me a short but stern lecture. She never raised her voice but I got the message. Then I was permitted to return to class. If you got into trouble during lunch time or recess you had to sit on “The Wall” a bench-like area that surrounded the flag pole in front of school.”
“Mrs. Shuey was all business. She took her job of running the new school seriously.”
“I visited the school in the mid 1960’s and ran into Mrs. Shuey in the hall. A rare smile grew across her small face as she recognized me. She said, ‘Why Richard it is nice to see you outside my office.’”
“The last time I saw Mrs. Shuey was at the schools renaming ceremony. I lived on Earle (and still do) just 5 houses up from the school so I walked down for the ceremony which took place in the parking lot in front of the school near the flag pole and “The Wall” where I had spent so much time. Mrs. Shuey finished her short speech expressing a sincere desire. In a strong serious voice she said, “It is my sincere hope that hereafter the school will forever be called the Emma W. Shuey School and not just Shuey school. Her words have always stuck in my mind. Now Mrs. Shuey is gone as are most who heard her speech and the school is just called “Shuey School”, but to me it will always be The Emma W. Shuey School in regards to her wishes and out of respect for that stern, little woman with whom I shared an office on so many occasions.”
– Richard W. Huddleston (1954-60)
“After teaching in several different schools, I became aware of how different the atmospheres of the various schools could be. As I gained more experience and observed more, I wondered what caused the big differences I observed. Some schools ran like well oiled machinery. Some schools never seemed to get everyone in their classrooms on time. Some students moved quietly; others seemed to need to run and yell. The more I observed and pondered these differences I began to see a correlation between the personality of the principal and the harmony felt on the school campus. Faculties, too, seemed to be influenced by the demeanor of the principal.”
“It was when I moved to Wells School in Rosemead, CA, that I had stumbled into a situation where this fact was made crystal clear to me. Our principal was Emma Shuey. She was a small woman, aged between forty and fifty, soft spoken, and more often out of her office than in it. She tried to be visible when children were changing classes or going to the playground for recess. She would find reasons to talk children and before long could call every child by name. She created a friendly atmosphere. She treated her teachers the same way and established a comfortable, warm, and easy relationship with her faculty.”
“One day Mrs. Shuey stopped by my room. “Jean” she said, “I have a favor to ask of you. I’ve discovered you have a gift for writing poetic notes. I’ve been asked to present a gift at a luncheon to honor a woman who has contributed so much to our organization. If I give you all the facts, will you write something about her that I can read as I present the gift?”
“I was aghast, but before I could respond, she continued, “I know how much you dislike making out the monthly attendance reports. If you will do this for me, I’ll complete your monthly attendance reports for the rest of the school year.”
“It was true. I did hate doing those attendance reports. It was also true that I had written little rhymes to read in presentations, but I was not sure I would be able to satisfy a third party. “I’ll try,” I agreed, “on these conditions. I’ll write a rough draft, then we’ll refine it together. If it works, it works. If it doesn’t, no deal and no hard feelings!”
“Mrs. Shuey agreed. By working together on refining my rough draft, she was able to add touches which made it sound more like her. At the end of the project I had made a friend for life. Mrs. Shuey was no longer just “my principal”, but a close friend. I had also been relieved of a job I hated—completing my monthly attendance report for the district!”
– Mrs. Jean (Murley) Frazier, 5th grade teacher (1962-66)
“At recess my kick ball rolled towards Lucia. Instead of returning it to me, she kicked it away. I pushed her and made her retrieve my ball. The next day after school, I walked my bike across Wells Street to Earle Ave. Lucia’s high school aged brother grabbed my bike and her junior high aged sister pushed me unto the grass. She held me down as Lucia hit me in the forehead with her lunch pail. It only took one whack to give me super powers to escape her clutches and run down Wells Street with Lucia in pursuit. Shortly after we ran through a flower bed, the homeowner grasped both of us by the forearm and escorted us to Mrs. Shuey’s office.”
“Lucia told Mrs. Shuey I had attacked her. Then Mrs. Shuey had Lucia step out of the her office. I told Mrs. Shuey the truth and she believed me. I confided in her I was afraid that I was going to get ambushed so Mrs. Shuey walked with me across Wells Street to Earle Ave where my bike was. It had two flat tires so I had to walk it down Earle Street. Mrs. Shuey stood on the corner. I would travel past three houses then turn my head to make sure Mrs. Shuey was still there. Each time I looked back, Mrs. Shuey would wave to me. Her waves gave me reassurance and courage. I remember Mrs. Shuey as a caring person who watched over me on a day when I was frightened ten year old.”
– Helen Edwards (1965-66)