… of a place where I haven’t lived for 15 years, but I do it anyway.

I don’t know any of the people in this short news story about a grandmother who’s serving as a reading tutor at the elementary school that is now sited where her old high school was, but I attended that elementary school as a kid, and looking at the story, the second-grade teacher named was three years ahead of my brother in school. [They almost assuredly didn't know each other.]

I guess it’s comforting to see this cycle, though: all the class photos of all those old Main High School classes were up in the hallways of Main Elementary, and when I’d have idle time to roam the halls, I’d look at them, trying to get a sense of history. [It was nowhere as movie-riffic as the "Carpe ... carpe diem! scene from Dead Poets Society, I assure you, but still affected me.]