At 50 -year reunion, a special gratitude




THEN: Principal Constance Breazeale

Conniston’s ex-principal Constance Morse will be an honored guest.
By JANIS FONTAINE Palm Beach Post Staf Writer

Mrs. Breazeale, we would like to thank you
For all the wondeiful things you do,
The way you make Conniston the best,
Keep our school spirit over the rest.
Always running here and there,
Sweet to us tho we get in your hair.
Always a friend to one and all
Always a moral if we stumble or fall
We hail you and we'll never forget
That you are the finest principal yet.
- From the Conniston Junior High School newspaper, 50 years ago

(Continued)

Who would believe it? Those junior high school kids really didn't
forget their principal.
This Saturday night, Conniston Junior High's Class of 1953 will make
Constance Windham Breazeale Morse an honored guest at their 50-year reunion.
It's odd enough for junior ­high kids to have a reunion at all.
It's even more momentous when the woman who steered them so memorably
through puberty and paddling - oh, yes, Mrs. Breazeale could wield
a mean paddle - shares the special night.
Now 90, Morse (she re­married after her first hus­band died) keenly
remembers what it was like to be the first female principal of a
second­ary school in Palm Beach County. She became principal of
Conniston Junior High in 1945 and retired in 1971.
"I always had some brains, and 1 was going to do some­thing with them," she says.
When a parent would come in for a confer­ence, Morse would be sure to have some­thing
good to say about the student, even if it was only, "He has the most beautiful brown
eyes," or, "She has such a pretty smile." Morse al­ways saw herself as a partner to
parents, teaching alongside them.
“We learned, worked and played together, not for self but for all, a scene in the
play of life with many encores," she once wrote. "I had so many feelings for so
many of the children. I wanted to instill in them to look to the future, ‘Plan,
think, do!' "Morse was more than a cheerleader, she was an exam­ple. She grew up
in West Palm Beach, went to Palm Beach High School, and when she left for college,
she said, "I had little money, practically no

(Cont:)THE PALM BEACH POST .FRIDAY, MAY 30, 2003
'We were such a proud school’ MORSE from lE

clothing, but a pretty good disposition and a good mind. And I had a determi­nation
to become someone. I was not going to play second fiddle all my life!"
In 1936, Mrs. Morse, then Miss Windham, graduated from Florida State College for
Women in Tallahassee with a teaching degree. She taught home economics for a year
in Calhoun Coun­ty in Florida's Panhandle and then taught for several years in
Boynton Beach and Delray Beach. In 1942, she came to Conniston as its home econom­ics
teacher.Three years later, Morse became principal of Conniston, making her the only
female secondary school principal in the county. "We'd go to a meeting, me in the car
with a bunch of men, and they would tell an off-color joke and they would say, 'This
joke is for AI,' (my husband)." She never let it bother her.
When Morse arrived, Conniston had fewer than 300 students and only 11 faculty
members. When she retired in 1971, the school had more than 1,300 students and 61
faculty members. As the school grew, Morse oversaw the construction of the cafeteria,
the li­brary, the band room, the industrial arts area, the field house, the science
lab and the addition of dozens of class­rooms.
Despite its growth, the school never lost its small-school appeal. And during those
years, the name Constance Mor­se became synonymous with The Spirit of Conniston.
"We were such a proud school," she said. She spent three years developing detailed
educational specifications for the school. She wanted to help her teachers give
students "the tools to turn gray matter into a thinking brain."
Teaching, Morse said, doesn't stop with the student. In fact, she says, you never
know how far your lessons reach. , "We had a dance, and we never per­mitted anyone to
leave on their own. We waited for parents to arrive to pick up their children. One
little girl from Loxahatchee was left. We waited but no one came."
At the time, gas was strictly ra­tioned, but despite that, Morse decided that she
would drive the little girl home. They found the father sitting on the porch, drunk.
A few days later, the father came to school to offer his apolo­gies. He carried a
can with a couple of gallons of gas. "He said, 'You taught me a lesson. My little
girl is more impor­tant than a drink of whiskey.'" Morse saw him again two years
later."He told me he hadn't had a drink since."
In those days, they used to paddle kids, but only as a last resort, Morse said. She
recalls a time when six young men were acting up in music class: "I took them all out
of class, and I told them to empty their pockets, then bend over and put their hands
on the floor. I know they thought I was going to whip them (which I didn't want to do).
"Well, I looked over to see these six rear-ends sticking up in the air, and I started
to laugh. Then the smallest boy looked at me laughing, and he started laughing.
Pretty soon, we were all laughing. I think they realized that they had done something
wrong and were grateful their rear ends weren't burn­ing! They never acted up again."
One of her most vivid memories oc­curred when her first husband died. "Mr. Mizelle
(of Mizelle-Faville-Zern Funeral Home) loved football. He would come over and watch
practice ev­ery day with his big black dog. He nev­er missed a game.
"When my husband died, Mr. Mi­zelle said he wanted to drive the hearse. The boys were
all out on the field. When Mr. Mizelle drove by, all the boys stopped and lined up
along the fence to pay their respects. When I saw all those boys, I was overwhelmed."
The respect they showed, she said, was something she always tried to teach
by example: Even in her grief, her heart filled with pride for her stu­dents.
Those students felt such a tight bond - most of them went on to gradu­ate from Palm
Beach High School­ that more than 100 are expected to re­unite this weekend.
They invited Morse and several of their favorite teachers to come as their guests:
civics teacher Bob D'Angio, sci­ence teacher Joe Ceravolo and shop teacher Hugh
Tyndall said they would be there. Algebra teacher Cliff Ripley might show up.
Their ninth-grade En­glish teacher, Margaret Doty Robson, not only promised to be
there but found some of their missing classmates.
"I've started my diet," Robson wrote a few months ago, "and made a hair ap­pointment."
Morse, too, is excited about seeing her old students.
In 1971, as she prepared for her re­tirement, Morse wrote of the school: 'This is not
and never will be a bare room. It will always be rich and full be­cause a part of me
will always remain with the memories of those with whom I met."
Her lessons remain with them, too - and her discipline.
"Everyone's looking forward to see­ing her again," said reunion organizer and
Conniston Class of '53 grad Chuck Otterson, "and I told my classmate Bud­dy Blount
an appropriate gift for her would be a paddle, since she had used one on both of us
so many times ­back in the days before all the experts decided a whack on the backside
would hurt our self-esteem. "Let me tell you, when Connie Brea­zeale swung that paddle,
it wasn't our self-esteem that got hurt."

_ janis_fontaine@pbpostcom


A Now picture of Mrs. Breazeale




Ed Note: This article was taken from the Friday, May 30, 2003 edition of the Palm
Beach Post. The above article was written by Janis Fontaine. The posting operation
forced some reformatting but the text and graphics are faithfully reproduced.


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