-Former students, teachers, parents, principals and even a superintendent were on hand Monday morning when Sanger Elementary School dug up a time capsule buried near the school’s front door at the turn of the century.
Sanger Principal Kelly Inman narrated the unveiling while lifting items one by one from a dirt-stained tube as the entire student body sat in shade — criss-cross applesauce — in rapt attention.
A tattered Harry Potter book, discolored class photos and a yellowed Hobbs News-Sun article detailing the capsule’s burial drew murmurs of approval from the under-11 crowd. But it wasn’t until Pokémon paraphernalia emerged that the diminutive audience truly came to life in recognition of a fad that is only slightly less popular today than it was 25 years ago.
Brenna Jaco, a Sanger fourth-grader in 2000, recognized her younger self in those students. After all, she and her classmates witnessed a similar cache unveiling back then - just before they buried their own capsule.
“Yeah, the kids didn’t really perk up until they saw the Pokemon ball come out,” 35-year-old Jaco - now a Lubbock librarian - laughed after Monday’s events. “I think we must have been kind of the same way. As an adult, you just appreciate the memories and the excitement of it more than the actual items.”
Indeed, while time-in-a-bottle was the day’s main draw, reminiscing with old friends, classmates and colleagues was at the heart of the celebration.
Gay Kernan, a member of the first class to attend Sanger when it opened in 1958, was there.“You look around. There was not one house, not one building in this area,” she told students. “The only thing here was the water tower.” Kernan would go on to teach at Sanger for a number of years - her sixth-grade class’ items were among those in the capsule - while serving as a state senator for 21 years.
Stan Rounds, HMS superintendent for a decade including when the capsule was buried, was there as well. And while acknowledging 25 years was “a long time ago,” memories of the new millennium were still fresh. “We were afraid that every computer in the world was going to stop working at 12:01 a.m.,” said Rounds, now executive director of a state education coalition.
Even retired principal Nancy (Havink) Paulson drove over from her Texas home for the event. “When I first came, we nicknamed ourselves the sunshine school because we were so full of joy and warmth and lightness and laughter,” Paulson said while many in the crowd nodded in agreement. “We had such a good time.”
But the prize for furthest distance traveled went to Amanda Snider from Covington, Ga., and Cameron Green, from Fayetteville, N.C. The brother and sister were on hand along with another sister, Amber Rind, who still lives in Hobbs. The siblings - who were in fourth, first and 7th grade in 2000, said they were interested in photos the capsule might contain. The items would be of particular significance because much of the family’s belongings were destroyed in a 2002 house fire.
“We found the stack of family pictures - there were about four or five paper clipped together - but they were water damaged,” Rind lamented. “About the only thing that survived was my sister’s signature on the back of one of the pictures along with her best friend at the time.”
While disappointed, the trio said reconnecting with former classmates and teachers was worth the trip. Green, who had more than a passing acquaintance with his principal’s paddle, said he didn’t even mind meeting up again with Paulson.
“Mrs. Havink was a bit intimidating and strict - but she had to be with me,” Green - now a fiber optic lineman - chuckled.
Known for her “cheese and crackers” catch phrase and a raucous sense of humor, Paulson grew somber when recalling students and staff who have passed away in the years since the capsule was buried - in particular teachers Jodie Day and Lisa Romine. “They were very exceptional teachers,” Paulson said in a choked voice. “But their legacy too lives on forever.”
Jaco, who was in Romine’s class when the capsule was buried, could only agree. “Mrs. Romine was one of those teachers whose lessons stick with you - even when you are grown up.”
Speaking of growing up, back in 2000 Romine asked her students to write predictions for where their lives would lead them in 25 years. Although Jaco’s prediction did not survive water damage, her twin sister’s prognostication did. Caroline Lloyd, now a surgical technician who lives in Long Island, N.Y., believed she would one day be a college professor.
Lloyd may have missed on the career prediction but she nailed today’s artificial intelligence revolution. “Computers will be like a best friend,” she wrote in neat block letters. “They will one day understand people’s feelings.”
After the capsule’s contents were unveiled and students returned to class on Monday, items were moved inside to the Sanger library where they were carefully examined by dozens of adults during a laughter-filled reception. Students had their turn to peruse the treasures later in the day.
Because the event was unexpectedly crowded and social media interest strong, Inman said the artifacts will remain on display for the public through the rest of the week. (Make sure to check in at the office).
“I was just hoping everything would go over well but was surprised and overwhelmed because I thought the whole event went over extraordinarily,” the Sanger principal said.
However, lessons were learned, Inman said, and the school is now tweaking plans to bury another capsule in a way that ensures items are not damaged. In the meantime, many of those items have already been gathered - including a book written by librarian Shanessa Gluhm, art work, class pictures and yes - Pokemon paraphernalia.
“In 25 years you’re going to have another time capsule that maybe you - when you’re adults like us - will have a chance to come back and discover,” Rounds said in his speech to the student body.
And just like the Sanger students and teachers from 2000, they also might discover that although items from their grade-school years will indeed be interesting, their true value is in the memories they bring.