On one of our last days in North Dakota, we went to the old country school that my grandmother attended for a few years and the old building was beautiful, if not gorgeous. My grandma’s sister was also her first grade teacher, can you imagine that? The school is now privately owned by a family and we were lucky enough to get to wander through the beautifully restored building. Maggie got to enjoy some toys that belonged to a baby that sometimes lives there. But for all it’s glory, Webster School is dead to me.
We got to sift through some old school records that held many names that my grandma recognized, it was pretty amazing. Eventually Phil scooped Maggie up and took her outside to point at things…and that was all fine and dandy. At that point I still loved the school like a distant family member.
And then we posed for pictures…..
Then Maggie posed for some pictures alone, a few steps up from the bottom of the stairs and took a nosedive onto cement, thus making the worst sound in the history of heads hitting cement.
And that, my friends, is why Webster School is dead to me.