Christian school closes after 40 years

DALTON GARDENS — Dan DuPey’s office was barren.

All that remained, after 20 years of leading Coeur d’Alene Christian School, was his desk with a monitor, keyboard and phone, a few boxes filled with papers and folders, a plastic bucket of pens, and some rolled-up banners.

It was unnaturally quiet.

As DuPey talked, his voice echoed off the walls and disappeared out the door into the long, empty hallway.

“It’s kind of eerie,” he said. “You don’t think about it, how it affects you emotionally.”

The 40-year-old school did not open this year and is closed for good due to declining enrollment for several reasons, a primary one being COVID-19 and parents electing to keep their children home.

DuPey, while disappointed, understands the uncertainty and desire to protect sons and daughters. Still, he’ll miss this private Christian school that has operated in the lower level of Dalton Gardens Church of Christ and touched thousands of lives.

“I think, ‘Wow, this is really happening.’ I would say it hasn’t really hit me 100 percent yet,” DuPey said. “The key is to stay busy doing other things.”

DuPey plans to work with businesses to enhance their online presence.

But first, he’s wrapping things up at CCS. That same day, a teacher stops and steps inside the doorway, surprised to see DuPey still working.

“If I had known I would have brought a pecan pie for you,” she said, smiling.

DuPey nods.

"Oh yeah, that's right," he said, clearly happy.

"I haven't forgotten," she said.

CCS started in 1980 when Dalton Gardens Church of Christ members were “dissatisfied with the teaching techniques and large class sizes" for their kids.

When it opened, Mike Swaim was the school president and his wife Shari, the secretary.

Teachers came from far and near, including Harding University, the University of New Mexico, and the University of Idaho.

The school offered “a quality academic program in a spiritual setting." It included art, music, creative writing, chapel activities and sports.

Days started with praise songs.

Patriotism, morality and respect were part of the program.

"The kids grow up with that foundation,” DuPey said.

Over the years, students held fundraisers for nonprofits, visited nursing homes, sang Christmas carols, donated to food banks, raked leaves for seniors and picked up litter.

“The love of God flowed from the CCS staff and students as they performed in an array of activities in the community as well as on stage,” a press release said.

DuPey and his wife Teri, longtime educators, arrived two decades ago. He was the administrator who also taught, and she was a teacher.

CCS was more than a school, Dan DuPey said.

It has been a "real encouraging institution for parents. It’s actually turned into a counseling session at times with parents having difficulties where they can utilize teachers for their individual counseling as well as someone who can help raise children."

The K-8 school rose in enrollment over the years to a high of about 110 before coming back down to about 50. It had a staff of nearly 10.

“We had to do some heavy fundraising to meet payroll the way it was,” DuPey said.

With the threat of COVID-19 not going away and enrollment numbers forecast to fall again this year, it was decided to close the school.

But DuPey and the board, which included Mike Swaim up to the final day, made its mark.

"A seed was planted in all the students over the many years at CCS. A seed of respect, compassion for others. A seed of loving God," the release said. "This seed of knowledge expanded to their parents, their grandparents and friends."

DuPey said he will miss morning greetings from students, especially the younger ones.

“They’re always full of smiles, so if you come in and are kind of down, that can lift you up to start your day,” he said.

But even without an office, classrooms, teachers or students, CCS will remain with DuPey.

One incident stands out.

He recalled a student who got into trouble and was sent to the principal's office about 10 years ago.

His assignment, using a brush, was to scrub black marks off a floor.

As he went about it, he sang. Not in a quiet, small voice, but in a loud, booming one.

“Nobody has ever done that in detention,” DuPey said, laughing.

He said he will always remember that joyful boy scrubbing and singing with such delight.

“That’s kind of a thesis of the school — it is a joyful place to be," DuPey said. "Even if you get in trouble, it’s still a joyous place.”