Bespoke

school

  • My Old School

    I remember walking the halls of my old grade school in my early twenties when I was busily fulfilling the truth of George Bernard Shaw’s old saw, “Youth is wasted on the young.” The halls had mysteriously shrunk but the… Continue reading

    My Old School

  • Limestone School part 6 walking home

    As John Welch’s arm exploded through the safety glass just above the brass push bar he realized the race had been won and the battle lost. Our third and fourth grade classes routinely made the sixty yard sprint across the… Continue reading

  • Limestone School part 4 sliding candy and crooked forks

    Brach’s hard candy slid across the gleaming tile floors of the main hall at Limestone school like tiny hockey pucks propelled by the hand of Rusty the janitor who kept the cinnamon, butterscotch and peppermint treats in a coffee can… Continue reading

  • Limestone School part 2 paying attention to things we love

    My 4th grade teacher, Mrs. Karbosky, brought a new element of deportment into my informal midwestern upbringing, an air of dignified carriage replete with reading glasses strung around the neck with a silver chain and an erect and sometimes stiff… Continue reading