The Hangar

Little did I know,
those forty years ago,
when I wrote my
lame comedy column
for the school newspaper,
The Mount Greylock
Echo
how it’s words would
echo
in my life today.

Little did I know,
those forty years ago
when I logged into
a distant computer
over a slow telephone line
from the small computer room
just off the guidance counsellor’s office
how computers would change
and change us
as I glance
at The Mount Greylock
Echo
webpage
with the latest news
from my old
high school.

Little did I know
as I practiced Morse code
in the basement of a friend’s house
or played with
army surplus
radio equipment
my father had
in our own basement
how much radio and communications
would change
and how much
it would stay the same.

Little did I know,
during those after school hours
huddling in the dark room
developing film
shot with old cameras
in the nasty chemicals
how one day
I would take a picture
with my telephone
and share it over
radio signals.

Little did I know
that forty years later
I would see an old
black and white photo
scanned into a computer
shared over the internet
to a thing called Facebook
and the memories
it would elicit.

It was junior high school
in the early seventies
when we were discovering
ourselves,
our bodies,
girls,
and archeology.
We were learning critical skills
as we dug in the sand
in the carefully constructed grid
laid out by our teachers.

Now,
some of our classmates
have died
way to early
friends have become distant
as other classmates
that we didn’t know
or couldn’t stand
have become friends,
and one of them posted
not only
the scanned in
black and white pictures
which brought forth
so many memories
but also the article
in the Mount Greylock ECHO
about the hangar
being demolished.

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