The end of an era is here.

The Archdiocese today announced this. My grade school is being shut down. Closed. Caput. That's it.

It's interesting, really, the feeling I have. Obviously, unlike many folks out there, I have a tightly knit group of friends from the neighborhood that all went to that school together. That was our bond--even though we grew up in the neighborhood together, we may never have met or been friends for it. But because we were at that school every day together, played basketball on the basketball team together, amongst other things, we became bound together. It sounds like a cheesy "Stand By Me" rip-off, except that the principles never grow apart, but really, it is that way with us. We've stayed together (although we've become detached from the school more or less, which makes this a bit easier, in a way...a bit).

It's amazing the kind of feelings/memories this brings up...I can't say that it's out and out sadness...it's a strange kind of sadness that is hard to describe. I guess it's the old, "it's not as good as it used to be anyway" type of sadness...the kind of nostalgic sadness, where I know that the place of many a childhood memory will be turned into a public school or something else or whatever. It just won't have the same meaning for me, I guess, even if the building remains.

I'm sure that there will be a big "sendoff" party, or one big final "alumni" event of some sort. That'll be nice, if folks can do it up just right.

I could rail on the way the neighborhood changed, and how those who came into the neighborhood didn't have the same kind of "respect" for the church/school as those who founded it years ago. I could lament the fact that, once, decades ago, it was necessary for the Catholic Church to have three schools/parishes with a square mile radius, but alas, it's now down to one. I could rail on the fact that ideals and overall comfort and nicety of the neighborhood has changed, having driven out Jewel-Osco and several other "institutions" of stability and achievement. I could rail on the new inhabitants of the neighborhood and their "temporary" attitudes about living there, which causes the instability of those "institutions." But, I won't. Besides, if you read Kim's blog, you'll see there's enough idiots in this world resisting neighborhood change. But that's a topic for another day.

This is not a time to lament what has become of my neighborhood. This is not a time to blame anyone in particular. This is a time to think of the great times I had. Back when *I* was one of the smartest kids in the class and I had a world of opportunity in front of me and the support to chase after it. Back when swear words were new and cool b/c it was so terrible to say them. Back when I got into school later because I patrolled the parking lot and raised the flag and got out early because I had to take the flag down and often was trusted to clean chalkboard erasers outside on Fridays. Back when this person liked this person and this one liked this one and it was embarrassing to everyone involved. Back when the Olympic torch passed by the school and we went outside to watch. Back in the day of, gasp!, school uniforms! Back when the Archdiocese hot lunches were some of the best food I got. Back when I got to drink chocolate milk for lunch, and it was a treat b/c I rarely got it at home. Back when home was a four-block walk. Back when the neighborhood revolved around the church and school, and everyone knew you because your parents/cousins/other family went there and/or lived right there.

And those only scratch the surface of memories from the school I spent eight years at. Even without the closing of the school, I suppose I often miss it.

Back in the day.

An era has come to a close. I just hope my children can enjoy something as good.