Took a trip up north this week and happened to drive by the grammar school me, my brother, sister, niece and nephew attended K-5th grade. My mom worked there as a kindergarten aide too.

It recently closed for a year or two and is now re-opening as a school for  children with disabilities. The doors were open so I popped in.

It looked a little worse for wear but you can’t beat the view from the playground.

Some of these photos look like they would be more at home at architecture of doom.

The interior had changed not at all since I went to school there over 30 years ago. Same textured walls, built in cabinets, blue classroom doors, same green linoleum.

I loved going to school here. The kids that went there all lived in the neighborhood. Our parents knew each other. We played at the same park every summer. The teachers were some of the best I’ve had. They would read novels to us while we made drawings, something I now do for a living.

¬†Standing on the playground, it was totally silent except for a tether ball chain pinging against it’s pole, like something from a strange and beautiful dream.