Admiral Clarence Morgan Arbuthnot’s Grand Adventure

Gather round. Join me in the low light of an attic to hear a tale. Imagine it’s hot up here, stuffy even, in the low ceilinged space just beneath the roof of a wooden building constructed in the late 1940s.

It’s a long story, so take a deep breath, stretch a bit, and settle in. Brew a cup of tea. Put on some slippers. Stories like these, once lived, are best relished in the warm glow of nostalgia.

IMG_1446Over the next two weeks, through one post a day, I’ll tell the story of an adventure. There will be pirates, treasure, and a cow puppet. You’ll meet a dying custodian, a poetic old woman, and maybe (just maybe) find the holy grail.

Like “The Great Game” that Sherlockians play around the globe, Admiral Clarence Morgan Arbuthnot’s story is most fun when taken as true. And, sure we all know Sherlock Holmes wasn’t a living person, but…

My fourteen or so posts provide an alternative narrative about the origins of Arbuthnot’s tale, one about artists conspiring together to bring joy, but if you prefer, please think of my story as the fiction and Arbuthnot’s as real. Fiction, Nonfiction. Tah-may-to, Tah-mah-to. What you will.

This version started in the spring of 2018 with a group of students and a handful of adults crammed into my office. It ended on a gray day in April with beaming faces and buried treasure.

Like any story there are some high points and some low ones, and I hope I’ve been able to capture the spirit of hope, anticipation, and fun that this project brought out in so many of us.

Being a principal is the best job in the world. Working with students, especially in unexpected ways as we did here, is the best part of that best job.

So, intrepid reader, I invite you to two weeks of swashbuckling and daring do, to a fortnight of unconventional school spirit, and what some people might call good clean fun.

Want a peek inside that attic? Visit here for a short video, shot before the building was demolished.

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