Ouch, the closing of Coolidge hurts. They had the coolest kindergarten room with an indoor slide, a 19th centuryish coat room and a class bathroom with a huge boy rabbit on the boy's door and a huge girl rabbit on the girl's door.
I loved going into the long, high ceiling hallways for tornado drills, sitting with my head bent between my legs — like that was going to make a difference.
The playground ended at the outside gym wall where we could pelt each other, firing-squad style, with snowballs. The lunch ladies were brutal.
In second grade we made a school wide time capsule and buried it under the front pine tree. I remember that I couldn't find anything to rhyme with the common pronunciation of my last name so my teacher had me write a poem using the less common pronunciation. For years later I wondered if future dignitaries would dig up my poem and wonder why one second grader was too lame to rhyme words with their own name.
The fifth grade teacher, Mr. Jorgenson, had a paddle named "The Brown Bomber" hanging from the front of his desk. It was rumored that Mr. Zellers, the principal, regularly paddled kids. The famous apex of his punishments being for the two students who broke into the school on the weekend, covered the gym floor with ketchup and mustard packets and rode the phys ed roller boards all over them. None of us had gym for two days during the clean up.
Gone now will be:
- the first grade room were Yvonne ate chalk and
paste and kicked the principal
- the doorless bathrooms where adventurous
second graders threw wet toilet paper wads to
stick on the ceiling
- the row of lockers where I was forced to share a
shelf with my sworn enemy, a Miami
Dolphin-loving, snot-bubble blowing kid
- the gym stage where the 1975 Halloween parade
was high jacked by 6th grade boys dressed as
Planet of the Apes
- the faculty talent show in which Mrs. Rausch,
with her gauchos and long hippie hair, sang a
wispy version of Bread's "If" that made all of
us third grade girls cry.
Those were the good old days.
The Coolidge School Fight Song
Oh Coolidge school we sing to thee
A place where every cougar longs to be
So come on students, teachers gather round
We're gonna have them make a ripping, roaring sound
We are the C O U G A R S
We are a happy bunch - why yes I guess
We are the same who put the A in FAME
always game for Coolidge School
RAH RAH RAH RAH