MOUNT VERNON — Ulysses Lybarger thought better of his career path after he got back his results from the 1890 teachers test administered by the Knox County examiners. We previously took a look at the 1913 test, and it was a real piece of work.
It is probably safe to assume that the 1890 test was also a beast.
Make no mistake, Lybarger passed the test. It wasn’t exactly with flying colors, but he did pass, receiving an official certificate signed by the president of the examiners, Lewis D.
Bonebrake (has there ever been a better name for a harsh test examiner?) and his assistant, S. B. Houck.
Bonebrake’s secretary, C. H. Durkin, signed as witness on the certificate, dated Jan. 11, 1890.
The certificate reads: “The undersigned School Examiners of Knox County, O., hereby Certify, That Mr. U. S. Lybarger having given satisfactory evidence of good moral character, was examined by them in the following branches and that he is qualified to teach the same within said county for the term of one year from the date of this Certificate.”
It’s terrifying to think teachers apparently had to retake this test regularly!
Lybarger’s scores were solid, though not outstanding:
Orthography – 76
Reading – 75
Writing – 73
Geography – 80
Arithmetic – 80
Grammar – 76
U. S. History – 78
Theory and Practice – 70
Phys. & Narcotics – 88
Orthography is handwriting, where he received a mediocre score. He did worse on reading and writing, slightly better in geography and math, about the same on grammar and history.
It’s interesting to note that world history was not even a required course. “Theory and Practice” is not described, but I would assume that refers to classroom practices and techniques.
“Phys. & Narcotics” is written in, and I wish there was more information about this category.
One would expect “Phys.” to be short for “physical education,” but it isn’t clear what “Narcotics” is about, unless drugs were more of an issue in the old days that the impression we usually get.
That’s very possible, as this was around the time that morphine was outlawed as an over-the-counter drug because of the number of addicts nationwide.
It shows that even more than a century ago, we had opiate addiction issues. Conversely, perhaps it was a test for the administering of medicine by teachers, such as aspirin.
At any rate, Lybarger’s result were not spectacular, except for the high 88 he received on that last category.
It is unknown if he actually used the certificate to teach for a while, as the 1890 U. S. Census was later lost in a catastrophic fire in Washington, D.C.
Later records show, however, that Lybarger went on to work in other fields, so if he did actually teach, it wasn’t for long. It is also perfectly possible that he decided on a new career path as soon as he received his certificate.
The certificate only gives Lybarger’s initials and last name, but it wasn’t hard to figure out what “U. S.” stood for.
In the immediate aftermath of the Civil War, General Ulysses S. Grant was a national hero, and there was a slew of parents, especially veterans, who named sons after Grant, sometimes giving a different name for the middle initial.
That was the case here. Lybarger was actually named after two generals as Ulysses Sheridan Grant. But the Grant naming trend died off abruptly in the mid 1870s, when it became evident what a poor job Grant did as president, allowing corruption to run amuck through his administration.
But for that window from 1865 to 1875, the name was common, and the initials of “U. S.” became a common feature in documents.
Ulysses Lybarger was the son of George and Sarah Lybarger, who lived near Jelloway, in Brown Township in October of 1869.
Thus, he was just 20 years old when he took the teaching exam. After that didn’t go well, he tried something else: banking. Alas, this proved to go even worse.
Lybarger moved to Gambier, boarding at the Kenyon Military Academy, and working as cashier at the Gambier Savings Bank.
One of his bosses, Harry Hills, had a bit of an issue with overdrawing his personal account at the bank, which Lybarger helped him hide. That, unfortunately, ballooned to over $20,000 in missing money.
That’s almost $750,000 in today’s money. An investor, George W. Porterfield, helped reorganize the bank, but lost most of his investment paying off the debt. In the process, the bank collapsed, Porterfield died from stress, and Hills, Lybarger, and another bank officer, Claude Wyant, were indicted on numerous charges in 1911.
Hills and Lybarger were arrested.
Lybarger pled not guilty, but was convicted by a Knox County jury in July of 1912. He was lucky, in that he was not sentenced to any jail time. Instead, he was fined $1,000, plus court costs of $168.58. In today’s money, that’s a total of over $36,000, so it was a hefty fine.
Slowly Lybarger rebuilt his life and reputation, opening a chick hatchery in Gambier that was known as the Nabob Hatchery Company. In time it became a successful operation, and Lybarger was able to put his checkered past behind him.
In 1929, the Akron Beacon Journal did an overview of his company: “[Y]ou will know that you are in the presence of big business, for Mr. Lybarger radiates the atmosphere of a man who is successful in his business.”
The previous year, his company had shipped over 2 million chicks of 40 different varieties to 10,000 customers all over the United States. His business even weathered the setbacks of the Great Depression, and was still running when Lybarger passed away in 1945.
After some troubled detours, it looks like Lybarger finally found his path in life, and it went
through a chicken coop, not a classroom, nor a bank lobby.