This Used to be My Playground

On our way to South Park City the other day we passed the middle school and high school that I attended. Both have changed dramatically in the *ahem* few years since I was a student. I pointed them out to Nicco, thinking it might be an interesting fun fact for him to see where his mama went to school.

Just for kicks, we decided to take him to my old elementary school too. It has a playground, after all.

Deer Creek Elementary School, Home of the Eagles

This sign on the wall wasn't there when I was a kid. Apparently, it was an eagle scout project for one of the local boys.

We drove up to the playground and I showed Nicco where I played. We had this blacktop where we roller skated, jumped rope, played 4-square, and hid and climbed on, in, and around giant tractor tires.

We also had these metal climbing structures, the only equipment left from my school days. We swung on the monkey bars and did baby-drops (who ever came up with that name? Nicco's gym teacher calls them cherry drops.) from the high bars. The old swing set and the two old slides are gone.

I was trying to talk Nicco into hanging upside down like we did to do a baby drop, but he was chicken.

There used to be a row of about a dozen big boulders that we would hop along from one to another. It's funny, I know many modern schools have removed swings and monkey bars from their playgrounds in the name of safety. I mentioned to Patrice once that our schoolyard would never pass a safety inspection by the nanny-staters who take away all fun things to prevent us from harming ourselves. (I was a little surprised to see the old monkey bars still on this playground, but then again, these are mountain kids. They're tougher than city kids.)

This is the soccer field. Yes. Soccer. Field.

In the years between my elementary school days and now they have graded and raised the ground and added fun (and relatively safe) equipment for the youngsters to climb upon. This sign is on one of the play areas:

When I came home from my first day at DCE, I told my mom that there was a gnome at our school. She wondered what the heck I saw that made me think such a thing, but then she saw Tom Hoganson and understood.

Tom is a slightly hunched, slightly disheveled, wrinkly and warty and greasy and dandruffy guy who to elementary kids probably always looked old. Tom is also a man who lives on a higher plane. He loves people. He is among the most sincerely kind and true people that live on this planet. He attended meets and games and events of all 3 schools in our district and he wrote articles in the local paper about the kids in the schools and their particular achievements. He could probably name all the kids in all the schools at any given time.

Once the school district was making cuts and Tom was going to lose his job. The community rose up and defended him. It's possible that torches and pitchforks were involved. He kept his job.

My mom and dad ran into him one day, probably at a high school football game, and he still remembered me and my sisters and asked about us. And it was likely not small talk. Knowing Tom, he was probably genuinely interested in our lives.

Here I am pointing out what used to be and where I used to go.

 Here's my boy playing on the new monkey bars.

 And flying on the new swings.

 And climbing on the new tunnel.

And taking a picture with his grandma.

My dad and I told stories from the days of yore.
It was a fun and slightly disturbing walk down memory lane.
Ghosts of childhood on that playground.