REMARKS: ON A COLD NIGHT, THE BUILDING MADE A NEW FRIEND

At first I was aggravated. On such a bitterly cold night, there did not seem to be a parking space anywhere near the gym or on Russell Street. I wound up having to circle all the way around and park on Missouri Street, across from the "A" Building.

When I returned to my car, a bit frost-bitten, after shooting Sikeston-Jackson basketball photos (and nearly bowling over one concession stand worker), I got in my car and looked up. I was amazed.

Several lights were on in the stately 1921 wing, and a column of gray smoke funneled out of the brick chimney, dancing in the pristine, arctic air. It could have been any cold winter night during the past eight decades. The view from the far side of Missouri Street was basically the same. I must have set in my car for five minutes, staring at the elegant old lady, through whose halls five to six generations of most Jackson families have walked.

It could have been a cold winter's night in the late 1960s. Inside one of the lighted rooms could have been young Linda Godwin, perhaps working on a science project on which that special connection was made that led to the opening up of mental doors and to a whole new level of dreams and goals.

It could have been the late 1930s. The lights could have been from a young Leonard Sander working on a social studies project or attending a student government meeting or a teenage Bernard Schaper, working late on a business project. It could have been any night in any decade and anyone's grandparents might have been the dedicated kids, working late on special projects that later opened wide the doors of knowledge. It was my epiphany moment -- the moment the original Jackson High School building became a real and vibrant being to me.

School buildings, in their advanced stages of life, present a unique problem. Seldom is any building more significant to the history of a community than it school buildings. A museum house like the Oliver House is a jewel and is to be cherished. During its period of significance, though, it directly affected one family. A school building affects virtually every citizen.

As my article relates, I consider the 1921 wing probably the best example of a pre-World War II brick schoolhouse within a 50 mile radius. These wonderful brick school buildings are disappearing from the American landscape at an alarming rate. In my mind, they comprise one of the most overlooked and unappreciated building types today.

Of course I am not a JHS graduate. I am a Bonne Terre native. There, the stately old Bonne Terre High School (later North County Junior High and now North County Elementary fifth-sixth grade annex), built in 1928, still stands. Although its exterior bears less integrity than the JHS facade, due to gigantic, architecturally inappropriate energy-efficient windows installed in the 1980s, it is still a gem. (Its interior has maintained a high degree of its historic integrity and feeling.) My mom went to school in the building and my grandmother in the former attaching wing, which I remember entering once or twice before its demolition.

I well remember a junior high open house during the 1970s. I showed my mom my locker and she shared a story with me. Her locker, as a freshman, in 1938, had been right in that group of lockers, too. One day she misplaced her books and was frantically searching for them -- nearly in tears -- when the principal (about six-foot-four) spied them on top of the lockers. If I were married and had fifth or sixth graders of my own (as many of my old schoolmates do), I could take them to their open house and repeat the story -- or pick up Mom on the way and let her tell it to a third generation. There is a very important community cohesiveness built around such school buildings. Few other things can be shared down through the generations like a school building.

Of course there is an inherent problem with falling in love with old school buildings. An 80 year life span for a schoolhouse is like 200 years for a home. The clip-clop of tiny (and not so tiny) feet daily, for decades, makes a building old at 50. In many districts their 1920s high schools (and many were built during the booming decade; many more came around as WPA projects during the 1930s) have progressed through a ritual of become a junior high, then a grade school, then administrative offices and, often, sold to private owners. That the JHS building is in its 80th year as part of a high school is remarkable and significant in itself.

As with many districts, this creates concern. Many schools are land-locked onto a small campus, where "building over" an existing structure is the only real alternative -- other than an expensive and often unpopular move. For now, at least, Jackson schools have opted to stick with the century-old downtown location -- locked between a highway, a cemetery, a church/school and a creek.

Today schools face the same problems historic preservationists do -- and more. The Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA), concern over a coming New Madrid Fault earthquake, fire safety, heating/cooling expenses and efficient use of space all make maintaining historic buildings a topic of hot discussion. In Jackson, the R-2 School District is probably the number one reason for the city's astronomical growth in recent years. I believe we all want the district to continue to provide the best possible education for our children. It may well be that the day will come when this necessitates the death of this fine old structure. I hope not. The loss would be great.

Historic preservation is not about "sentimentality." It is about connecting with our pasts to be able to deal with the future. I hope we DO have as much or more technology and money as neighboring schools in future and that families continue to move here because of the school system -- but "what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?" If Jackson is to keep attracting people, it needs to retain some of the positive qualities that began attracting new residents in the first place -- like attractive, historic buildings downtown.

When the time comes -- as it inevitably will -- for decisions to be made, regarding the future of the "A" and "C" buildings, the football stadium and the campus in general, I hope all involved will realize that losing any of these buildings would be losing a huge part, not only of the R-2 School District, but of the city of Jackson as well.