Kuklos: Circle Unbroken
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Antonio Carnovale
Graduated from Lyndon State College in 1972 with a Batchelor of Arts, received a Masters of Education from Antioch University, Specialist E-5 South East Asia 1967-68 Educator for 42 years, bilingual in Italian
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Kuklos - Antonio Carnovale
Copyright © 2013 by Antonio Carnovale.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
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ISBN: 978-1-4759-9578-7 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-4759-9579-4 (hc)
ISBN: 978-1-4759-9580-0 (ebk)
iUniverse rev. date: 06/19/2013
Contents
The Introduction…
The Story Begins…
The Introduction…
It had been a long muggy day at school and Jim Tagalopolos (affectionately called Mr. Tag), had just gotten home. Home was a two story building at the corner of Poplar and Washington Street, just north of Roslindale Square, a suburb of Boston. Tag was seeing his community change; his son and daughter in high school at times were being harassed, the strong community seemed to be losing its identity, the Rialto theatre had closed down, and Tag’s favorite Italian bread shop had also been closed down. Tag was worried for his family, it seemed as if law and order was disappearing from the city, and there were many days that he would ask himself why had Roslindale fallen on such hard times? He, himself, a teacher at the local Junior High School, Washington Irving, sensed that the students now lacked responsibility and a conscience. It seemed like the teachers were breaking up fights every day and drugs were becoming easily accessible in the school. Tag had reached his wits end and had applied to teach anywhere—as long as it was far away from the city. As Tag sat down at the kitchen table, it was 3:30 p.m.; it had been humid and muggy all day. He began to shuffle through his mail and a letter seemed to jump out at him. The sending address told it all, Lyndonville Hollows Academy, Lyndonville, Vermont. Excitement began to take charge of his body as Mr. Tag began to read:
Dear Mr. Tagalopolos,
It is with great pleasure that I, Bradford Yeak, headmaster, inform you of your hiring to the Lyndonville Hollow Academy family for the 2011-2012 academic school year. Please be advised that the school year begins in August and we would like to have you report with all of the new teachers on Thursday, August 18th for your assimilation into our faculty. You are expected to be in school on Friday and Monday, August 19 and 22. All staff is required to be in school on Monday, August 22 and school will begin on Tuesday, August 23rd for a half a day. Everyone is required to dress properly. No jeans are allowed, slacks and polo shirts are acceptable. Please respond by July 5th on whether or not you will accept the position as a teacher in our Social Studies Dept.
Yours Truly,
Bradford Yeak, Headmaster.
Tag was excited as he shouted to his children, Peter and Leah that they would be moving during the summer to greener pastures. Peter and Leah were not happy that they would be leaving all their friends and everything that they were comfortable with. They were not happy campers, and after looking at a map, they were even unhappier. Lyndonville Hollows Academy was located almost on the Canadian border, in Caledonia County, the ‘boonies.’ No shopping centers, no movie theaters, just the local treasures, a ski area named Burke Mountain and a local teachers college on a small mountain peak overlooking Lyndonville Hollows.
That night at dinner, Jim and his wife Dorothea Tagalopolos discussed the offer and after some soul searching, they both agreed it was time to leave Roslindale and the city. It would mean a pay cut, but the cost of living would be cheaper in the North Country.
The next day as Tag went to school he informed the administration that he would not be returning to the only teaching job that he had ever known, the Washington Irving Junior High and that he would be accepting a similar position at Lyndon Hollows Academy in Vermont. Principal Thomas Mars tried to dissuade the popular Mr. Tag. It was like the movie, Goodbye Mr. Chips
, but Tag knew in his heart that he had come to the end of the road with Washington Irving Junior High in Roslindale and that it would be better for all involved that he should move on and let a younger and more energetic teacher occupy his position.
As the school year ended at the Irving, goodbye became harder and harder to say, and with each day came the realization that this era in his life was coming to an end. He loved his students and they all loved him. Was he making the right move? Doubts began to creep into his mind; his students did not want him to leave. Tag had cleared out his desk and room when sadness sat in. It was becoming unbearable. Twenty years at the Irving, twenty years of service was all coming to an end, twenty years were now being swept away in one day. Five boxes contained all that he was and had been. Saying his final goodbyes he caught himself. No tears and no turning back. As he packed his car and got behind the wheel he took a last look at the school and as he began to drive out of the school, out of the parking lot and on to Cummings highway, Tag could feel his eyes watering up. This chapter of his life was coming to an end and a new chapter was about to be written. All of those good times that he had had at the Washington Irving Junior High began to flash by, the vault of his mind had been opened and he could not close the door. Tag tried to think of his new position, the challenges that would come with the new school, the new kids and the new administration and before realizing it, not knowing how he had got home, Tag was pulling into his driveway.
The Story Begins…
It was still early in the day and a lot had to be done. A call to the realtor in order to put the house on the market for sale was a priority and we had to arrange a trip to Lyndonville Hollows in order to find housing and to meet the administrator was a necessity.
The next couple of weeks were hectic as we spent all our waking hours packing and doing all the other necessities that come with moving. There was a lot of excitement and uncertainty in our family; we were leaving the comfortable confines of Roslindale for the unknown of the boonies of Caledonia County.
Goodbye Boston, with over a million people and hello Lyndonville Hollows with maybe 5,000 people. No more movie theaters, no more malls and more importantly we were leaving all of our friends behind. But I was looking for solitude, the students who wanted to come to school and respect for authority that which I felt was lacking at Washington Irving Junior High.
As a family we decided to take our first trip north to Lyndonville Hollows over the Fourth of July weekend.
July first arrived with a bang. We packed some belongings and by 7:00 a.m. we were on the road driving through Boston, past the harbor and jumping on to Route 93. I must tell you that our station wagon was full, the Tagalopolos, the true flatlanders were going north. We decided to take Rt. 93, because it would take us through the beautiful White Mountains of