In the summer of 2003 I went back to visit an old friend, a place where I spent my high school days. I walked up to the main entrance of F.R.H.S. which was being blocked by a NYC police patrol car. Inside the door were four policemen two from the patrol car and two that were permanently stationed there. The feeling was not the same as in 1957 my first visit. With luck I met the head custodian of Far Rockaway High School. I told him, the last time that I was here was over 43 years ago. He asked do you want to look around the old place. What a question. It was the perfect time to take a tour around the school, it was empty and quiet and maybe a little haunting.

The first place I wanted to see was my home room which was close to where we were. I opened the door and looked in, it looked the same put smaller. He said they had partitioned some of the old class rooms in half to make more rooms. The memory of Mrs. Cochran, standing in the corner of that room, so elegantly dressed came back into my mine. Casual Friday was not in then. I said it looks like they changed the desks since I was here. He said come with me, he opened another door around the corner and there was an old class room which they intentionally keep the way it was in the early days of the school. My father or uncles would have remembered it (with ink wells and all). We walked through the hallway each class room still had the same old wood doors and same old room door numbers. The walls the wood work all the same just a different color. Even the same smell in the air or was that my imagination?

Hanging on the walls were different posters, different ideas, all from different kids and maybe more creative then my time.

Walking in the hallway I could remember some of the great teachers I had and others who I heard of from my classmates.

The two teachers named Goros. The first who got my heart beating with excitement with a science experiment he did in the 7th grade. The other who got my blood pressure up as he looked at me before asking a question in the 11th.

Down to the swimming pool what a surprise no water in the pool. The whole area was being painted one color; it looked like one large light aquamarine colored room with scaffolding all over. Even with all that distraction, I could still envision the swim meets, Richie Sierer standing watching as the team was winning the races.

Next stop was the cafeteria not much change except for two things that caught my attention, first new kitchen equipment and an eerie looking something that looked like a line of starting gates. When I asked he said it was metal detectors, Oh I said. Welcome to the new age I said to myself.

Then it was on to see the old football field. Oh my God I said when the door opened what happened here. The field was completely re-done with a rubberized football field and track around it. When I played on the team we looked for a grass patch to fall on.

Back into the school going toward the main entrance we went passed the rifle range now filled with old furniture. Having a rifle at a high school was long in the past. In the hall we met another custodian his name was Rubin. I looked at him and he looked familiar. He started at the school around the same time I was there and now was retiring. We recounted the jovial head custodian at the time Ed, who walked around like he was the high school mayor with the power gained from the keys to every door dangling at his side. What a fun guy Ed was.

Out the front door I stopped by the street turned to look back at all the good memories and good times that I had and took for granted at the time. Chills go up your spine now when you think that those days will never be forgotten or are never to return in the same way. And now our school is closed, but I hope and know other kids in other places will find the same joy. And they as us will take it for granted the same way, until some day in their future.

Bernie Grossman

bernieg60@aol.com