The Montrose School is a surprise. It sits on a plot of land that faces Clark Street and backs onto Meeker. It has a generous front yard; the building’s front door is far enough from the sidewalk that a casual walker can easily miss the school until reaching the property. The small parking lot is to the side of the building, just beyond a narrow driveway surrounded by grass and a small garden. The school, completed in 1924, the same year as Jefferson and the First Street School (which became the Board of Education), has further surprises to offer.

Maplewood resident Steve Weintraub is fascinated by James Betelle, the architect of Montrose, as well as Clinton, Columbia, First Street, Jefferson, Maplewood Middle School, Marshall, South Mountain and Tuscan, all completed in the 1920s. Weintraub, a graduate of district schools, describes Montrose’s style: “With its flat roof, crenellations and imposing pseudo-tower entrance, it really screams ‘Collegiate' to me. You can see quite clearly the similarities to Columbia High School, which was in the early design stages when Montrose was completed.” In a blog and several articles dedicated to the architect, Weintraub uses the term “Collegiate Gothic” as the most precise term for Betelle’s work.

The school’s entrance is off-center, which is unusual in our district. It also draws attention to the front door, which is far more than a passage between outside and in; it's worth a long second look. An arch above the double door is decorated in an alternating pattern of flowers. The words “Montrose School” appear in stylized lettering and framed by the same flowers. Intriguingly, the letters are flanked by two plaster busts; one appears to be Columbus and the other is a mystery. The front and sides of the school are decorated with a motif of open books that runs just below the crenellations. The back of the school, where an asphalt playground is surrounded by grass, is functional and without such decoration.

Montrose School was built to serve the growing population of young families who moved to South Orange in the 1920s. While the school is now used for a small number of high school students enrolled in CHS's alternative program, it retains the hallmarks of an elementary school. There is a small baseball diamond, basketball hoops, and heavy-duty climbing bars at the side of the building. Inside the school, a room once dedicated to kindergarten has a fireplace, cloakroom and a bathroom.
During its long tenure as a district elementary school, Montrose served the West Montrose neighborhood. Longtime neighbors recall that the front entrance was reserved for sixth graders, the most senior students of the school.

Weintraub notes that the building boom slowed in the Depression, and James Betelle and his successful architecture firm sank into obscurity. He left behind many local testaments to his talent, including the Montrose School, rich in detail and design.

Generations of students have left something behind at Montrose, as well. An elderly neighbor walked me around the building sharing memories of her sons’ years there.  The Montrose school yard boasts what I consider to be the most beautiful birch tree in town. It’s also a fine tree for climbing, according to my neighbor, who indicated a branch far from the ground. There, she recalled, pointing at a scratch I could barely see, were her sons’ initials, carved into the tree one day at recess, another surprise of the Montrose School.