School days

Around here school starts in the next day or so for primary and secondary students. For the first time since its 1919 construction, the place where I attended elementary school, which at one time held K-12 classes, will not be opening its doors this fall or ever again for that matter.

Due to dwindling enrollment and the presence of a septic system rather than sewer service, the school district decided it was for the best economically to close the building and move the students to another school. Going by the newspaper articles and online comments appended to them, this has not been a popular choice with those who live where I grew up. Actually, it's kind of painful to read what they are saying.

The school is likely to auctioned off and torn down. The district offered it to the village for $1, but the proposal was rejected. Rightly so, I'm guessing. The cost of maintaining the property, even unused, probably made taking ownership an unwise move.

Although I no longer live there, haven't set foot inside that school since who knows when, and accept that the closure is probably a wise fiscal choice for the district, part of me is sad that its history has come to an end. To have a significant place in my life story shuttered makes me feel older than I am.

I can still see the inside of the school in my mind's eye and feel like I know it well. The ground floor, which was slightly recessed below the ground, housed both sixth grade classes and kindergarten. The gymnasium, kitchen facilities, library, and (I think) the only restrooms were there as well. I remember the cozy little coat room, a small white wooden space with a bright incandescent bulb, for the kindergarteners.

The next floor up had both first grade classrooms straddling the principal's office, two second grade classes, a third grade classroom, and the teacher's lounge. Was there only a single third grade class? I can't recall where it would have been in the building, but it must have been on the upper floor. (I'm really confused because I can't even think of the other third grade teacher's name, assuming there was one.) The second floor also had the pencil machine. I always loved putting in a coin and getting a pencil displaying an NFL team's name and colors.

The top floor had both fourth and fifth grade classes. The auditorium was also on the top floor, although it was above the gymnasium and required going up a few steps to get to it. That's where we had music class and school assemblies. It was the place for the talent show and school-wide events, such as showing animated films, projected on film, before going into breaks. The hard wooden chairs in the auditorium were never comfortable, but I have fond remembrances of that space.

I don't know that the memories I have of my time as a student there are all that specific. It's more of a vibe, one that's been surprisingly easy to tune into as I've been writing this entry. TB tests in the teacher's lounge, learning to play the recorder in music class on the auditorium stage, class lists posted on the sixth grade classroom's window that announced your teacher and classmates for the year... Beyond the facts and figures I learned in the building, those little flashes are things I am strangely fond of remembering.

I hate to see part of the village's history (and mine) disappear with the inevitable demolition of the building. My dad went there, and his parents may have too. (I really need to check on that.) The truth is, though, that even if not a brick remains, it's a place that can be as vivid to me as when I first entered the school.