History Lesson of the Heart

I'm very nostalgic at times.

My older two kids go to a homeschool "learning group" (or co-op of families/teachers that offers a school-like atmosphere and supplemental classwork) over in the Elverson area, right "down" the road from my alma mater Twin Valley High School. (If you've ever seen TVHS, then you know everything is down from it since it sits high on a hilltop.)

Anyways...

I was passing the school on my way to the store a few weeks ago and remembering parts of it based on what I could see from the road.

On the corner of the building, I saw the white blocks that enclosed the staircase up to the second floor where my 12th-grade civics teacher Mr. Arnold looked me in the eye and asked me how I "liked cicadas." (The 17-year locusts had hatched.) I've never been sure why...

And the two windows down from the stairs were part of the classroom I sat in with Mr. Lawton, learning history in 11th grade and hearing stories of his times as a pilot in World War II.

The next three windows (I think) were a part of my 10th-grade English classroom. Mrs. Witmer used that classroom.

A few windows down and I remembered my 11th-grade chemistry class with Mr. Mountz, where I struggled all year to get passing grades yet got one of the only two "As" in our class on the final exam.

And further down from that room were my biology and earth science classrooms. The biology room was where I was sitting when the Challenger Shuttle blew up in 1986. I remember it like it was yesterday. The entire school was watching the shuttle launch that morning. When it blew up, the building was so silent you could have heard the cliched "pin" drop.

Why do I remember such things from well over 20 years ago? (I know. I know. I've aged myself now.)

Because life has a way of handing you special moments that piggyback on other memories.

Last time we passed the school, my daughter began asking me about it. It was fun to tell her all about the classes I had and share a few pieces of my "history" with her. I think she felt a little like she was there. I know it made her know me better.

Makes me wonder what parts of her "history" she'll share with her kids someday.

Afterall, she's kind of nostalgic...like me.