In tribute to the old Lewisburg School
By John Paul Brady


Posted on January 1, 0001 12:00 AM



North Logan native John Paul Brady is a 1966 graduate of Lewisburg High School who is a retired school teacher and serves as pastor of Persimmon Grove Baptist Church in Northern Kentucky. Bryson Price read the following article at the Lewisburg Leaders Hall of Fame induction ceremony on Sept. 20 in the Lewisburg gym.

My good friend Gerald Hildabrand posted a picture of an aerial view of the old Lewisburg School building. The picture was taken just before it was demolished in 1987. The posting of this picture has caused an avalanche of responses. Someone asked why so much interest had been stirred in this old building. That is a very good question and caused me to think why a picture would turn me on the way it did.

I was a student there for 12 years. I came back five years later to teach in this building for another 12 years. If for no other reason, the Lewisburg School building is significant to me because I spent 24 years of my life there. But the drawing card of the responses concerning the picture goes much deeper than the years any of us have invested there. For me, looking at that picture is like digging up relics of my past that have been buried for ages.

I look at the campus layout and I remember where the lunchroom stood adjacent to the old shop. To the left was the little building where I spent the first three years of my schooling. The playground spread out in the rear with sliding boards, swings, and a merry go round (the kind you sat on while holding on for dear life as a big kid pushed it round and round as fast as he could run.) I can almost hear those old swings creaking in harmony with the screams of children enjoying their time at recess.

Next to the playground the baseball field sprawled westward ending at the railroad tracks. The smell of the dusty field arises fresh in my nostrils after all of these years. I played hundreds of games on that baseball diamond. Those were some of the best days of my life, and I would give anything to go back in time just to stand at home plate one more time for one more at-bat.

The nostalgia is almost overwhelming to the point of sadness. As I look closely at this picture, it is as though I can peer through each window into the classrooms and down the halls and relive thousands of experiences of my past. Each room represents the many teachers that I had. Out of those windows come the sounds of bells calling students to class, lockers slamming, and footsteps running down those oil covered wooden floors. I am reminded of the smiles of my teachers and their voices, sometimes elevated to make a point either to the entire class or to one of us who seemed to have lost our way.

Vivid memories of my high school and elementary school days race through my mind. The cracker box gym holds so many of those memories. I suppose the basketball games and the practices there contain the most wonderful memories for me. For probably five decades, that old gym was the center for social activity in Lewisburg. The building was full for every game. Everybody in town and the surrounding area gathered on game night to root for the Rangers. The games were a big draw because of the students that were involved: players, managers, cheerleaders, the pep band, the pep club. The whole community got involved. Ranger spirit was always alive and strong.

I can close my eyes and hear the cheerleaders leading that cheer: “Two bits, four bits, six bits, a dollar, all for the Rangers, stand up and holler!” Then the whole place would go wild. At half time, out in the front hall students sold cokes, all sorts of sweets, and there was always that wonderful buttery popcorn. In the days when I was playing, the hall was full of smokers and by the time the second half started, a fog light was needed to find your way back into the gym. Ah, yes, those were the good ole’ days.

The gym also hosted Southern Assembly programs, band concerts, school plays, donkey ball games, sock hops (at least for a while), baccalaureate services where no one was offended when someone prayed, and graduations.

The Lewisburg School building was the site of the beginning of many a romance, and I suppose a few less broken hearts. It was the site where strong friendships were nurtured and life lessons were learned from more than just books. It was a place where young lives were shaped and molded, a place where lifelong decisions were made. It was a safe place, a good place.

The old Lewisburg High School building was a place, even though she no longer stands, where memories will live on as long as a single graduate remains.

 


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