Lest We Forget

Lest we forget their sacrifice!

I hope that the folks at Elmvale DHS won't get a big head, but I'd like to take a a few minutes to tell you about yet another outstanding experience I enjoyed thanks to taking a supply job there! To add to your understanding, you should know that this past week has been a busy one refereeing basketball because it's playoffs and club games are also going full steam ahead, so I was choosing to not take supply jobs. 

I'm retired dontcha know and the weather begs for me to get out there on my bike. 

Having said that, I consented to take this morning shift at EDHS because the OA there, an absolute gem of a human, texted me looking for some assistance. PSSSST, don't tell her that I have a hard time turning her down! HaHa!

I arrived at the school and found out the morning's duties would include a 1st period prep and a 2nd period escort / supervision. I honestly tried to hire myself out for that 1st period prep, especially since I was only booked for the morning, but the office staff insisted all was good. With the entire student population going to the Elmvale Remembrance Day ceremony, and if you've not worked in a secondary school, me saying that the entire school was going somewhere won't have the same impact than those who have had that experience. According to a previous conversation with the principal, Mark Ruzylo, the school's roster was 500 souls strong, but that included grades 7 through 12. Even if you factor in a 30% absenteeism ... quite normal these days ... that's still a boatload of young people to move from one place to another in an orderly fashion.

I chose to have a small chat with that 2nd period class prior to our walking journey about the nature of a Remembrance affair, and I was quite impressed with their insight, appreciation, and agreement. The Elmvale Cenotaph is situated on the main street, in front of the town library. While I was summarily impressed with the deportment of the hundreds of students walking the few blocks from EDHS to the Cenotaph, it pales in comparison to my appreciation of that same 300+ hoard's conscientious, respectful participation in what was an involved, yet moving, service. Even the students who struggled with attention carried out their responsibilities with dutiful observance of decorum for the 75 minute (yes, 75) ceremony that included traditional observance, wreath laying, religious blessings, and musical celebrations ... music performed, I might add, by Mr Muldoon and his senior music class. 

I should take time to note that one student, a Sr named Jacqueline if memory serves, who shared an original solo piece beautifully, moving many to nod in agreement by her well written lyrics. She's quite the talent, if I'm honest. 

Let me be perfectly clear about EDHS.

I loved my years at Barrie Central, of that there's no secret, but I also loved my years at Barrie North, the staff being made up of a host of folk that I grew to appreciate in a short space of time, and I would willingly choose to fill in as supply for colleagues from those Central or North days. The Elmvale experience (sounds like a rock band name) is a different, albeit amazing, phenomenon altogether with a unique energy that I can only guess is part staff, part student, and part small rural town. With apologies to my former colleagues, EDHS has become my new favourite place to supply for. 

And I am amazed with how the town embraces it's relationship with the school!

Getting back to the Remembrance ceremony though, I've got a soft spot for November 11th partly since it's the right thing to do as a proud Canadian, but partly because I have a direct connection to the great wars and the sacrifices given. My papa, Jack Gladstone Keachie, was born in 1897 in Glasgow, Scotland, but moved with family to Canada early in life. When WWI hit, he enlisted then celebrated (???) his 16th birthday in the trenches. Yes, you read that correctly, he enlisted at 15 years old. Obviously, he successfully survived the experience since he eventually had my mother, who eventually had me, but to say that he returned unscathed would not be accurate. He struggled for a significant time with what would be labelled PTSD by today's standards, and for the rest of his days, he refused to talk about that experience lest he drag long repressed memories to the surface to be lived over again. Years ago, my mother framed a photo of him in uniform and his medals. When she sold our childhood home, my brother Dave was entrusted with guardianship of this family treasure. 

For my papa, for my family like my nephew Jeff Sarazin who is stationed in Germany right now, for friends who have served or are serving in the forces, for those that paid the ultimate sacrifice in any of those cursed armed conflicts Canada has participated in, I thank you for willingly giving that we might enjoy the freedoms and safety that we often take for granted.

Lest We Forget.