Quiet halls at abandoned Booth Memorial High School
Coffee cups are laid out on the principal’s desk at Booth Memorial High School, a microphone stands ready on the credenza for the next round of announcements and, except for a few drawers standing open, the scene looks much like a typical school day.
In the outer office, an uncapped metal water bottle sits on a desk as if someone was just sipping from it.
A pair of hockey gloves wait to be claimed on the counter, as if misplaced by their owner. A poster reminds students of the importance of regular attendance while wall trays hold student rating cards and other forms.
A red-crested blazer hangs in a small closet adjacent the bathroom, cleaned, pressed and waiting to be slipped on for an assembly or special event.
On this March day, it seems like the staff and students have just stepped out for a moment, or perhaps disappeared into thin air.
But the school closed down in 2015 and this is all that has been left behind.
The clock above the principal’s door is frozen at 12:15.
And this is how The Telegram found the former school while touring it with an English School District official for a photo essay.
While some areas of Booth, like the office, seem frozen in time, others show their swift decline from abandonment.
Inside the main entrance, someone — presumably during a drug-fueled break in — has rearranged the letters on the sign board to read “Meth is a cool high.”
In another room, an obsolete microwave has been punched in. Still elsewhere, an outdated smart board projector has been ripped apart underneath the words “Give respect, get respect.”
Broken glass, plates, nails, scattered crayons, tiny orange balls crackle beneath one’s feet
in various rooms in this maze of a facility cobbled together from two schools built between 195068, the other being the former Dawson elementary.
Because of the creative architectural feat of joining the two schools, the corridors are at times ridiculously narrow and sometimes it seems like you must go upstairs to go downstairs.
In some places, the lights no longer work. Here and there, the silence is broken by the steady drip of brown water funneling through the ceiling tiles.
In the gym, the Booth Braves mascot painted on the wall seems to be pointing in shame over the roached floor, stained and water-logged from the leaking roof.
In one section, the hardwood has been pushed up into a mound resembling a large overturned boat hull. It’s ironic, since it was long-rumoured that there was a pool under the gym floor,
part of a years-long joke also involving other so-called secret locations.
A science lab seems to be
stuck in the year 2012, the date displayed on a newspaper left on a desk, open to the mutual funds.
Sets of old science textbooks remain on a shelf, no less relevant, it seems, than a stack of Shakepeare’s “Twelfth Night” and other classics left behind in another room.
A few fat TVS and the equally worthless VCRS didn’t make it out, either, along with hundreds of plastic and metal chairs and a dozen or so obsolete computer towers.
A white bowtie lies in the bottom of a locker, while the effects of leakage and no heat have caused paint to peel down from the ceiling in ringlets resembling streamers along the dark corridor.
It’s as if ghosts have created their own prom night scene.
In the teacher’s lounge, a teapot awaits a never-to-betaken-again staff break. The worn furniture has been pushed aside to make room for a giant unfurled fire hose, part of the space’s temporary usage is a
training facility for the St. John’s Regional Fire Department.
The building’s next life, if there is one, is yet unknown.
Tenders on the sale of Booth and two other landmark St. John’s schools — adjacent Bishop’s College and Macpherson on Newtown Road — close this week.
As for some of the items left behind, according to the school district, the future of the furniture is not yet decided. Much of it will be kept and remain available to schools or other district facilities. Some has been previously donated to other organizations and that is possible in the future, the district said.
Specific items such as trophies and class photos will be made “in consultation with the relevant school administration, recognizing that not all materials can be kept by schools,” the district said.
The Telegram received hundreds of comments on a Facebook post seeking the memories of former students and staff, as well as many emails.
Among them were moving statements on the how the much-loved school changed the courses of so many.
Here is one from Julia Whyte, recounting how the school’s innovative for its time daycare changed her life:
“I was 15 years old. I was at Booth School in Grade 10 having a wonderful first year. The world seemed so perfect. A new school. New friends and I loved my new school dearly. I had a boyfriend and — never thinking it could happen to me — I became pregnant. My world crashed around me and I was so scared. I knew my mother would be livid, my family, and I never told a soul. I was expecting and went to school every day covering my big belly with sweatshirts and baggy pants.
“In December one day at school I became really sick. I was six months’ pregnant and I remember being scared that something was a wrong with my baby and I went to the guidance teacher in tears from pain and told her I was six months’ pregnant. (I) never had one doctor appointment or checkup, and with that she called a cab and took me to the hospital from Booth school. I was there without my mother knowing, and (the counsellor) said to me, ‘Julia I have to call your mother now and let her know.’ I remember shaking so much I felt like I was going to die.
“A few hours later after, I was checked out, an ultrasound done — baby was good, healthy and safe. I was having pain from my gallbladder, it seemed. I walked out of the hospital room to see my mother sitting there looking at me with so much disappointment.
“‘I’m sorry,’” I said. She hugged me and said it (will) be OK and that I should have told her. I never returned to school after that cold December day as I was six months (pregnant) and still treating a gallbladder infection. I thought I never see school again and in March I delivered the most beautiful healthy baby boy — eight pounds and three ounces. I named him Kevin.
“I stayed home every day and raised him and it was the hardest thing I ever did. I was a child myself, but I was giving it all I could …. Shortly after my son’s first birthday, I got a call from the principal at Booth School telling me about a new daycare centre that was opening in September for teen moms (who) wanted to finish their schooling … I was scared at first, going to high school with a baby, I was scared of being judged. I was scared I (would) be looked down on but I accepted and told him I would return with my son for September.
“…. I took my son to daycare for two years. I loved it and he loved going there. I did well in my courses and I graduated with good grades. Without Booth school, I know I would have been a high school dropout and I would have only got my Grade 9.
“Well, today the little boy I took to school with me is 27. He’s a wonderful man that I’m so proud of. He always knew the importance of school and to do the best in life that he can.
“Today, I can look back and see how much one daycare centre saved me, how one school gave me my life back. I thank them.”
For more remembrances and 40 photos of the abandoned school, go to the photo essay accompanying this story on the www.thetelegram.com. Also, look for the Barb Sweet podcast featuring interviews with former students on The Telegram website.