School is out.
If you could find a forgotten school in Hawaii before it was gone, you would likely feel that they were spirited places, even if abused. Thousands of footsteps had rumbled in and out. Fastidious staff opened and closed the doors each day. A pattern of repetition can wear deeply into a place.
Daily routines reverberate
Many of Hawaii’s schools from the plantation era were outgrown and replaced by the demand for modern scale. This disheveled schoolhouse was formerly home to a general store from 1914 ran by the local plantation. This building made her way through a hundred years of good times and bad, a plantation age and hurricane, the pitter-patter of kieki feet, and eventually a shelter to stragglers in need. The building had seen better days, and now she’s gone. A pile of dirt and vibrations remain.
