Institutional demise
Today I’ve depended on an impromptu news service to keep up on important happenings. My sister. At the closing ceremonies for my old high school. I couldn’t be there, so I did the next best thing. Lots of fun, and some familiar faces (based on the posted pictures). The amazing secretary from the front office that knew everybody (not bad, in a school of better than twelve hundred evolving faces), was on hand. Ninety-five (her age, not her exam mark on facial recognition skills). Take that, those that want to identify the great masses of the world!
The interior of the school has changed, and the music room has moved. Not that it matters, since I don’t have to return to class, and the building will be gone before the next snows, but it was news to me. The greenhouse in the center courtyard is gone. The desks are still the same: that, by itself, is a nod to the company that made them (and is now out of business). I’ve been gifted a Latin book, although I have no idea if it is one that I actually used. Big school and all that.
I’m running out of schools that I once attended. Grade One school: gone. Grade Two-Four school: gone. Grade Five-Seven school: gone. Grade Eight school: demolished and rebuilt. And now the Grade Nine-Thirteen school is months away from the end. They won’t be recalling my learning (me neither, some days). Thankfully the university stands firm, and I can go on campus and look around (proudly). This was once mine!
