Any Given Tuesday

The parking lot next to the Cougar Shop was half empty (half full?) and, from that vantage point at least, there wasn’t a soul in sight. The mid-day heat and humidity might have had something to do with the dearth of activity, but it’s quite unusual not to see at least someone moving about.

 

In the distance, I heard the familiar clanking, hammering, and sawing noises coming from the McFall Hall renovation site. The good news is that in a few weeks, the chain-link cordons, trailers, construction vehicles, storage bins, porta-potties, and dust will be gone. No doubt we’ll find the new state-of-the-art facility well worth the inconvenience.

 

As I entered the usually bustling but eerily silent Sharp Academic Commons, I ran into Beth Kondorossy, Upper School director of student life.

 

“What’s up, since there’s not a student in sight?” I asked.

 

“We’re actually planning orientation,” she answered with her trademark ebullience. “We have a meeting Monday to start working out the details. We have to make schedules. Our current students and teachers help out with orientation so we’re contacting them. We’re talking with technology to make sure we get the kids what they need before school starts. I tend to be a planner, make sure my t’s are crossed and i’s are dotted.”

 

“So even if the kids aren’t around, this place never shuts down,” I said.

 

“No, it never does,” she responded. “There’s always something to do, but

it’s too quiet. It’s like a ghost town. It’s harder to be productive without the kids here. They’re motivated, so I’m motivated.”

 

Beth headed to her office, and I exited the building and ran into Robyn Hartley, our staff horticulturist, tending a garden behind Flippen Hall.

 

“It’s 11:45,” I said. “You’ve probably been out in this heat since…”

 

“7:30,” she answered with a smile

 

“That’s a long time in this heat,” I commented, anticipating her answer.

 

“There’s Crystal-Light. There’re straw hats. There’s sun block,” she said, as if on cue.

 

Robyn, we all know, has no fear of extreme elements. Blazing hot? Freezing cold? Business as usual.

 

This day, she’d been trimming loropetalum (those purple flowers that I didn’t know actually had a name but do now), trimming holly bushes, and weeding.

 

“A lot of weeding,” she said. “Right now I’m weeding Bermuda grass out of bushes. It travels by rhizomes under the soil. Getting the source of the problem is the trick. A lot of pulling.”

 

Loropetalum. Rhizomes. I always learn something new when I talk to Robyn.

 

My next stop was the Help Desk located in the South Science Building. They know me well. They’ve bailed me out of more than a few computer mess-ups over the years. The folks there are good. They’re dedicated. They know their stuff. It ain’t all work, though.

 

Kris Mock is sitting at his desk, barefoot, shirt-tail out. The only thing missing is a beach chair. The summer, you see, is a two-month dress-down day. Soon enough, we’ll be back in our big-kid clothes.  

 

“What do you do when you don’t have to clean up after folks like me?” I asked.

 

Kris smiled, perhaps recalling one of the many times I'd arrived at his door with a quizzical look on my face.  Then he explained that he and his crew were preparing for the Middle School faculty laptop exchange in August. They were doing cart refreshes and maintenance as well as preparing devices for new faculty and staff.

 

“We work really hard to keep everybody up and running and happy,” he said, “and we have fun in the process.”

 

“So this place never sleeps. The work never ends. Right?” I said.

 

“Never,” he replied.

 

If you’ve ever dialed the Help Desk, chances are that Tammy Dunn has answered. Sunnily, I might add.

 

“I am the glue that holds us together,” she said. “I have to make sure everybody’s on the same page. Every time you call, I should know what’s going on and be able to help and point you in the right direction.

 

“We’re never slow here. When we don’t have customers coming in, we’re thinking of better ways to serve you. The light is always on.”

 

My last stop this day was the Reed Gumenick Library where Carolyn LaMontagne was waiting for the 15 Middle School kids enrolled in her and Teresa Coleman’s Sew Simple-Beginner Sewing.

 

Carolyn explained that the class has been so well subscribed that Summer Quest offered a second session this year.

 

“We let them sew what they want to sew and keep their own projects,” she said. “Some of them are sewing clothes. A lot of pillows, zipper pouches, messenger bags.”

 

“So the purpose isn’t mending stuff?” I said. “Like, ‘Hey, I ripped my pants jumping over a fire hydrant so sew it up.’”

 

“No,” she replied as her class began to arrive and go directly to the projects they’d begun the day before. “It’s to create. And it’s a lot of fun.”

 

My time was up so I snapped a few pictures and headed off. Good to be back on campus, I thought. Will be back soon.

         -- Weldon Bradshaw