With the turn of the page into April, it has dawned on me that the end of the traditional school year looms, and noting the digits 2026 at the top of the calendar, I was startled by the realization that it's been 10 years since the SCDSB officially shuttered good ol' Barrie Central, closing the books on a storied institution complete with it's traditions, legends, myths, and curiosities.
A lot has changed since June 2016 ...
Incredible stuff like retirement, marriages, a grand baby, and Hall of Fame enshrinement.
Cool stuff like new homes, cars, hobbies, and lifestyles.
Disconcerting happenstance like political upheaval, economic downturns, and climate degradation.
When you're 5 years old, a decade seems like a lifetime.
When you're 10 years old, a decade seems like a huge number.
When you're 15 years old, a decade seems like a long time to wait.
When you're 20 years old, a decade seems like a wait-able time.
When you're 30 years old, a decade seems like a couple of years.
When you're 40 years old, a decade seems like last week.
When you're 50 years old, a decade seems like a minute ago.
When you're 60 years old, a decade sometimes seems like a struggle to remember.
Some things recently have thrust
the good ol' days into the front of my consciousness, memory fragments swirling like the suds going down the kitchen sink, the powerful stuff crystal clear but the minor details wispy like clouds on a bright blue backdrop. I don't mind ruffling feathers when I reiterate that the whole process behind the destruction of all things Central was a clusterfuck of epic proportions ... excuse my crassness ... and even with the passage of 10 years, I still get agitated when I itemize the damage that ensued.
Again, how could a group of supposed caring individuals actively choose to wipe out 147 years of achievement and success without continuing, or at least acknowledging, it's existence? The decision smacks of contempt and resentment, eradication at the core.
The proverbial silver lining, however, is that despite my outrage, there's more than enough awesomeness to offset the gloom, and I break into a wide grin when I sift and sort the recollections of ...
Coaching fantastic athletes, championships that were won/lost, accolades received ...
Teaching curious students, facilitating academic enlightenment, life goals revealed, friendship growth ...
Performing in Christmas assemblies by dancing ballet, singing a golden oldie, dressing in drag ...
Creating Central's yearbooks, farcical videos, silly songs, Moustache May photos ...
Commiserating about lifelong relationships, colleagues marriages/children, colleagues/students lost.
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| They only saved the chimney, and it's still the only thing there! |
I've written before about what I personally viewed to be the source of the magic contained within the walls of Central, but at the risk of repetition, I would propose that the personalities of those who worked there (admin, teachers, and staff), with the resulting synergy of talents, functioned like so much fertilizer propagating a blossoming of student brilliance, and the resultant splendor, a cacophony of athletic and academic accomplishments. Central wasn't just recognized municipally, it's reputation for excellence extended provincially, nationally, even internationally, the distinction becoming a habit that was passed from cadre to cadre for decades.
I've included enough stories in the 380 posts in this Blog that regurgitation is not necessary, but anyone who either attended, taught, worked, or spent time there can attest to something being slightly different ... not better, not greater, simply different, but in a really cool way.
I'm not alone in this.
A passionate group of alumni have rallied around reconnecting and reunion this coming June, with plans for a night of remembering to be held at the Lins Gate Banquet Hall in Barrie's east end. CLICK here for the Google Form registration. There's a dining option if that's desired; there's a nibbles option if something less formal is desired; it's intended to give like-minded Centralites a chance to catch-up, rekindle, reconnect, and reminisce.
Time inevitably marches on, and I've moved on to exciting things, not the least of which is my little Wynnie, but there'll always be a permanent portion of my soul reserved for my beloved BCC, with it's RED, BLACK, and WHITE colouring likely in the legendary quarter-board of Central Rugby.
Hopefully I'll still be writing in 10 more years and we can share a stroll down Memory Lane again.
