A quick drive-by of my elementary school jogged a few memories of the years I spent there. The hill of paved black-top was gone but I could still see my friends and I running down that hill as fast as we could- trying our best to step on the fallen leaves that were blowing around. The windows of my first grade classroom window were adorned with new art work, but I could still see what the rows of desks in my class looked like back in 1968. No one was playing on the open blacktop, but I could still see myself standing in line waiting for my turn to jump into a twirling rope- nervous that I might not time it all correctly. The old incinerator was gone, but I could see the spot where 4th grade me would sit and talk to my friends as we watched the boys play dodgeball.
Anybody else who drove by St. Joseph Elementary today would have seen a pretty empty school yard. Not me though. The school yard I saw was filled with memories.
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