The last weekend of June: you just can’t beat it.

And I’m especially thinking of Grade 12 students who walk out of their high school one last time.

Then, turning the opening page on not only the summer, with warm weather, late-night barbecues and so much more.

But, also on the opening act of new education, a summer job, perhaps and new ways of thinking.

Every year at this time I zoom myself back in time.

June 1977 when I graduated from Glenrose School Hospital with all the pomp and ceremonies with the formal affair at the — back then it was called The Edmonton Plaza Hotel — Westin.

I had the honour of being class valedictorian and shared many stories, like when Derrick Coles, Curtis Sliwkanich and myself almost blew up the Industrial Arts lab.

You see, the Industrial Arts Lab was on the basement level, right below the school bus entrance on the north side of the school building.

Curtis — who passed away in 1984, God rest his soul — Derrick and I were working on a metal lathe.

Curtis, who always liked a challenge and then — like he only could — challenged it.

“Let’s see how far we can take this baby,” he said, before pulling down his face mask.

The red printing on the lathe boldly stated how many RPM it would go before it … well, you know.

I forget what the exact number was.

“Let’s double that,” Curtis said as he turned the power on full blast.

Derrick sat back, in fear of an explosion.

I took off, stage wherever-was-behind-me in great fear.

The lathe got louder. And louder. And started making high — very high — squealing noises.

That caused Industrial Arts teacher Jake DeLeeuw to run out of his office with a look of sheer panic.

“What are you guys doing?” Mr. DeLeeuw said in his most characteristic Dutch accent over the lathe’s incredible whine, before slamming on the red emergency shut-off button, which, my reader, you need to know.

Derrick, Curtis and I? We can’t walk. None of us — never mind jumping up to slam off an emergency button.

“We just wanted to see how high this would go,” Curtis said, looking for just a little vote of confidence.

Mr. DeLeeuw shook his head.

“You guys almost blew up the place,” he said.

Curtis smiled that priceless Lamont smile.

“But, what a way to go in your grad year,” he said.

The old Industrial Arts classroom was, eventually, torn down.

It was replaced by a world-class technical facility, giving people with disabilities state-of-the-art equipment to live with ease and dignity.

The name of it is most fitting.

As we embrace and celebrate Grade 12 grads this weekend, I remember my two classmates.

We proved, perhaps, dangerously, we could do anything.

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