Mr. Collingwood's Patent

22-03

Our middle school principal, Mr. Collingwood, actually held a patent for some type of a machine that did some kind of special work somewhere in the world. At least that was the perspective from the twelve year old kids under his charge, like myself, who understood few machines outside of a bicycle and never really worked anywhere in any world.

One clear, crisp, bright blue but yellowing afternoon in October of 1962, Mr. Collingwood gathered all his charges into the school auditorium to explain to us the events taking place in the world that few, if any of us, could understand.

My class was barely four years past honing skills for Stop! Drop! And Roll! exercises where the sound of metal desks being upended and toppling drowned out the Civil Defense sirens in our building. Once safely on the ground and out of danger from any atomic weapon, we would all make eye contact under our desks and begin giggling.

Somehow, Mr. Collingwood's demeanor on this October day suggested something far more serious was to be considered and after his detailed presentation, I recall hoping his patented machine would be the one thing that could save us all in a situation where our upended desks and child-like giggling could not.

On this rainy, diffuse, gradient of greys Philadelphia afternoon in October 2022 I truly hope that someone has a patent for some type of a machine that does some kind of special work somewhere in this world that will save us.

Peace.