SKJH

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Demolition of South Kingstown Jr. High School marks the end of an era, and a sad day.

The memories that brick-and-mortar building held go far beyond the walls themselves. Thankfully, those memories can't be demolished.

My dad was the principal of South Kingstown Jr. High for 28 years, and growing up, somehow I came to believe we owned the building. After all, my dad had all the keys! We'd visit the school with him during summer breaks, school vacations, and weekends, me and my sibling running amuck, untethered, through the halls and playing in the gym while he did whatever principal business had brought him in. To me, it wasn't just a school. It was almost an extension of our home.

Then, for my seventh and eighth grade years, it became my school, too, and those were two of the very best years of my entire school experience.

I made some of my very best friends in seventh grade, and incredibly, many of them are still my friends today. We had so much fun staying after school for gymnastics, hanging around outside the gym, cheering on the sports teams, and simply being kids together. When the last day of eighth grade arrived, we all knew we were saying goodbye to something special. High school was next, of course, but somehow it never had quite the same charm.

And yes, having your dad as your junior high principal was definitely a mixed bag. Some teachers seemed extra strict with me, perhaps determined to prove they weren't showing favoritism, while a few others may have let me slide here and there. But I'd like to think I would have been a favorite with or without my dad sitting in the principal's office!

After my dad died, I brought a large floral arrangement to the school. It seemed only fitting that there should be something there to mark his passing at the place where he had devoted so many years of his life, even though he had retired years earlier. That building was such a significant part of his life, and, by extension, such a significant part of mine.

So seeing it demolished hurts my heart.

But like everything else in this world, change is inevitable, whether we like it or not. Buildings come down, schools change names, neighborhoods evolve, and eventually the younger generations may not even know what once stood in a particular place. The school had gone on to become a middle school, and today's students may never know that it was once South Kingstown Jr. High, or that, at least in my childhood mind, it belonged to my family.

Thankfully, I have my own little piece of it that no bulldozer can touch.

When my dad retired, I had a painting of the school commissioned for him. That painting hangs in my living room today, and every time I look at it, I see so much more than a brick building. I see my dad. I see the little girl who knew she had the keys to the whole place. I see the eleven-year-old me who somehow had the good judgment to choose friends who would still be beside me decades later. And I see gymnastics, gym bleachers, after-school afternoons, laughter, friendship, my dad reaching in his pocket to give me money for ice cream and all the simple joys of being young.

The building may be gone, but the memories remain, safe inside the people who lived them. And perhaps that's the best reminder of all: some things can be torn down, but the pieces that truly matter stay standing forever.

“The past is never where you think you left it.” ~ Katherine Anne Porter