Death of an Old Friend
Posted: Tuesday, August 19, 2008
by Sandra E. Graham
My Books and Articles
I walked down the grass-filled cracked and broken sidewalk and looked sadly at the two remaining buildings, dilapidated and rotting away at the foundations. The year was 1987 and I had not walked this sidewalk for twenty-two years. Was I insane for feeling this deep sentiment and such a depth of sadness that I was feeling at that moment? I had left in 1965 and this was my first visit back to see an old friend that had sustained me for over eleven years; was always there for me; stood by me in good times and bad. A dear friend that taught me all I knew, listened to my complaints, allowed me to cry when I needed to cry. A friend that shared my happiness when I scored extra high on a test and my frustration when I just could not get the gist of some particularly hard problem. A friend that, I'm sure, felt my loneliness at being a ‘not-one-of-the-in-crowd'.
Even the once flourishing trees that had filled the yards were now only straggly bushes, rotted and dying. For twenty-two years I had lived and laughed, played and danced without so much as a single thought until this day that I had an old friend who was dying…..my school. I walked up the steps to the large wood-frame building and looked down at the broken padlock on the large double doors-my gymnasium. Inside it seemed so much smaller than I remembered. The ghosts of children playing basketball bounded down the court, dribbling the ball and shouting, "I'm open! Throw it to me!" Hands and arms that were all but invisible waving to each other, as I watched, misty eyed, in memories of years gone by. There was the post where I had nearly broken a finger when I ran into the wall chasing an out-of-bounds ball.
I had started first grade in this school and had graduated high school here in 1965. I'm not sure when the school was first opened; I remember rows of pictures framing graduating classes from as far back as 1932. Being a small country school-one of many-there had been no kindergarten or the pre-school that is so popular with the larger schools in this day and age.
In 1967 some governmental organization deemed it necessary to close all the smaller country schools; to cut back on the number of teachers needed to cover so many separate classrooms; to cut down on the number of buses needed to transport students around the tiny towns and consolidate to open newer, more modern, and larger educational facilities.
And so it was that my dear friend and mentor, Egypt Public School, closed its doors for the last time with the final graduating class of 1967. An era had died and who was there to attend the funeral. Not I. I had gone the way of probably everyone else in the name of progress-lock the doors and forget it ever existed. It along with many other small town schools consolidated and became the infamous West Side School of Jonesboro, Arkansas. Would history have changed if the small schools had stayed open; where the teacher/student ratio meant more guidance for each individual student and less fend-for-yourself tactics? Hindsight is twenty-twenty they say. In some cases that may be true, but who's to say that keeping our smaller schools open at greater expense may have saved the lives of several innocent students and teachers-food for thought or speculation only. We will never know.
In 1987 I took pictures and said my good-byes to what was left of my old alma mater.
Today I look at them with fond memories and no longer feel as sad when I think about the good times and good years I spent in those hallways so many years ago, but I will always think of it as a friend-a very old and helpful friend that helped me to become the person that I am. Many of us-while we're young and struggling for independence-don't realize just how much of an impact our schools and teachers will have on our lives. But once our futures are with us and not so much ahead of us, we take more time to think about where the credit lies. Education will always be your friend-even when you forget.
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Sandra E. Graham, author, AMOS JAKEY and NICOLINA published by American Book Publishing. I also write book reviews for Book Pleasures. Visit my website for more info: http://www.sandragraham-articles-books.comhttp://www.SearchWarp.com/Register.asp
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Top-level comments on this article: (10 total)You have a wonderul gift of making memories come alive. When I transported myself back home, where I grew up, I was supprised to see much gone. In eeffect a part of me. Yes, and it speaks very strongly that we are but passing through. What we have, own , knew all gone when we go. Passed on, torn down and what remains starts the cycle again. Nice job as usual.Thanks, Robert, for reading and commenting. It is always interesting and sometimes sad to go back to our beginnings when we have been away for many years. We have pictures in our head, but it's always nice to have pictures we can share with family and friends.Sandra
Hi Sandra,Another wonderful article. I imagined which is all I can do what it would be like. Unfortunately my childhood memories are limited and we did much traveling that my friends from school are lost. I do have memories of friends today from my adult life and I am fortunate. I have lost two, but the memories are alive when I look at pictures and remember the blessings they were.I left my hometown in 1965 and didn't return until (to live) until 1988. I came back to see my family on holidays and vacations, but I didn't get to see many friends as they had all moved on, too. The year before I moved back, I took my daughter by my old school and we took pictures. I could remember my school days as though they had only been yesterday. It was a nice trip down memory lane.Sandra
No matter what forms our memories, they are a part of us and some things and people are so hard to leave behind--friends, teachers, family, pets; yes and even schools. Things change and we move on, grow old and all we have left are our memories.Nice article. I could almost see and feel the place.Thanks for reading and commenting on my article. I try hard to put feelings into my writing---I want everyone to see and feel what I see and feel (or at least what is in my head and heart.).Thanks for the nice comments.Sandra
I love a genuine story, and it seems that you put your soul into it and that is all that matters in a nice story. keep it up.Thank you for reading and the nice comments, Michael. I always try to put my true feelings into my writing. I think that is what makes good reading--writing that shows an author's true feelings. You don't necessarily have to be a 'great' writer to put passion in your words.Thanks, again.Sandra
My memories of my old school are quite similar to yours, Sandra. I went back a few times just to visit, but it was always different. I missed all my friends, but the school had, as you said, moved on in the name of progress.Great article. I enjoyed it a lot.Thanks for reading and commenting, David. Glad you enjoyed the article.Sandra
Hi Sandra! I'm glad I happened upon this lovely piece. I remember taking my mom to her old neighborhood in Brooklyn a few years before she died and everything was different; graffitti everywhere and her home was torn down - big boom boxes on the once famous Kings Highway, etc., ... she cried but held onto her lovely memories. Thank you for sharing your heart; you have the gift of transporting your reader into your world!Thanks, Judy. Glad you enjoyed the article. Visiting my old school certainly brought back old memories for me and I was glad my daughter got to see what was left of it before they tore it completely down.Have a wonderful Labor Day week-end.Sandra
Hi Sandra! Once again, a very good article...True expression...I loved the animated picture you posted at the buttom.Keep it up...God Bless you...Thank you, Candles, for reading and commenting. Glad you enjoyed the article. I thought the picture of an old school house would add a nice touch.Thanks again.Sandra
Dear Sandra,Today you are getting to know who I am and where I been.I was there when you reminished about your past days a long time ago, and I can relate to it vividly. Your past and my past, - we are nearly walking the same path.A very nice artickle, and I enjoyed being part of it.And you, Sandra, know exactly what I mean.Your friend,Mr. EakaOlofAnd I appreciate your reading and commenting on my article. Isn't it wonderful that people so far apart can share memories of pasts gone by. I have German ancestors (hopefully the good ones), Australian, Irish, and Cheyenne and Chowtaw Indian--but I feel lucky to have such a varied group of nationalities from which to be decended.Thanks again and may your trips end well, Mr. E.Sandra
Hi Sandra, this is a very sweet and sentimental story. I don't have fond memories of my schools. I suppose its difficult to keep track after 15 of them. What blessing to be able to grow up in the same community all your childhood and high school years. It's hard to imagine, but I can see how it would make strong bonds. You are a gifted story teller! Love you bunches,TeresaThank you for reading and commenting, Teresa. I make our memories, some good, some bad--the bad, most of us try to forget. Hopefully there are more good than bad. I think mine were mostly good.Thanks for your kind comments.Sandra
Hi Sandra,Reading your article reminded me of my elementary school, which is no longer standing. It brought back fond memories of times gone by, never to be recaptured in the physical sense. I can just close my eyes and I'm back there again. Thanks for jarring my memory in a postive way.Thanks for reading and commenting. I'm so glad you enjoyed the article.Sandra
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