Beneath South runs an intricate system of maintenance and storage tunnels. These glorified basements hold pipes, wires, HVAC systems, and equipment. While those things are utterly mundane, the tunnels also offer a unique perspective on what South is. The tunnels show us crumbs of old, forgotten stories. The tunnels offer insight into the untold stories that have kept the building running. The tunnels give us a new way to view just how quickly high school passes by. The tunnels are so much more than the tunnels, they are an anthology.
The Torch sent a small team of journalists and photographers to explore a small section of the Tunnels near J and T hall. The current primary use is as storage, especially for football-related items. Piles of gear littered the entrance, with huge drawers flanking the wall right next to the staircase entering the tunnel.
Further in, the area is for maintenance. Water pipes ran everywhere along the ceiling, popping in and out of the wall to ascend to bathrooms or water fountains above. Wires carried a highway of information, possibly the internet, footage from the cameras or the intercom, all along the walls, in huge bundles held up by zip ties. Air vents took up a considerable amount of room, all connected to mammoth HVAC systems that buzzed with life. Through a particular straight hallway, one had to duck to not hit your head on the low-hanging pipes. In one area a small metal tube ran across the floor, threatening to trip up an inattentive visitor.
The Tunnels held a small portion of the unseen heartbeat of South. How many gallons of water pour through those pipes, how much air blows through those air vents, how much electricity flows through those wires, all underground? The average student or staff never thinks of any of this, yet their absence would be noticed immediately.
In this way, we can perceive countless times some maintenance man has gone into the tunnels to fix something. Have you ever once heard someone talk about it? Schools require such a monumental amount of effort to run, but no one ever acknowledges it. This pattern goes much further than the tunnels too. Have you ever thought of the dozens or hundreds of administrative staff who work entirely behind the scenes to make the school run? Perhaps you are aware of the school board, but do you know what they do? You see the principal in the halls all the time, but do you know what he does in the day-to-day? Next time you do something at South, try to think about what made that possible. Yes, there are flaws in the system, there are flaws in every system, but it somehow works.
Going back to the tunnels: what goes almost totally unnoticed are all of the items left behind. How did they get there? Who put them there? Why? Questions like these will almost undoubtedly never be answered. For instance, on the side of a long hallway, a small set of steps leads into a lowered platform. This was likely to access the gargantuan machine that was set on the wall. In the opposing corner, a dusty, old, and small chair sat. The dusty was so thick that what was at once a blue cushion was now a gaudy grey. Although it appeared somewhat stable, one could tell that even a moderate challenge of weight would send it crashing down into splinters. It was the only one down there, at least in that tunnel. Even trying to figure out what year it was put down there would be almost impossible. Did it once have many students in some classrooms? Perhaps it was taken down there so someone could stand on it and reach some higher part of the machinery. Yet, any amount of guessing would never yield a concrete answer. South High was opened in 1959, 64 years ago as of the time of publication. At most, the chair is around 64 years old. Likely, someone is still alive who remembers putting that chair down there, but how could one even find said person, let alone bet on them remembering doing it and why?
Another example was several pieces of trash. An empty bag of Cheese-Its was found. It was noticeably an old version of the label. Who was snacking on Cheese-Its down in the tunnels? The premise alone seems absurd. It wasn’t just on the floor either, it was placed on a ledge in a dark region of the hall. Maybe, however many years ago, it was dropped by a lazy maintenance worker, and someone later picked it up yet simply set it down on a ledge anyway. At the opposite end of the tunnel, set on a dusty air vent that stretched much longer than even a flashlight could reach, a lonely pop can sit. Upon investigation, the expiration date on the bottom of the can was from 2005. The entirety of South High’s student populous, give or take, was younger than this empty can of pop. Did a repair man come down here, thirsty, and in a lapse of judgment, leave their garbage below after repairing some system?
Closer to the storage section of the tunnel, there was a grocery cart filled with shoes. The sheer number of questions that are piqued by this curious cart is immense. Firstly, how did a cart from a grocery store even get down there? Did a student go to the nearby Dillon’s wheel the cart to South, somehow bypass any security staff, and was let into the tunnels where the cart lay? Why was it filled with shoes? Whose shoes were they, anyway? How often are shoes added? Is it some team tradition? Or was it some senior prank committed by a class long gone? How long has it been down there? Of course, who would even begin to plan on how to remove it, if someone wanted to?
In a more open area, a dusty trashcan sat as a sentinel. It had a dirty rag tied around the removable metal lid, coated with dust. A brave journalist opened it. Inside, it was filled with salt, or perhaps sand. It is almost impossible to put into words just how strange it was. Who put a trash can down here filled with some granular substance? There was no label, or name, nothing. Someone, at some time, knew exactly what it was. Now, that information is lost to time.
As the tunnels reached the area near an old pool, the tunnels opened into a wide field of dirt, sand, and dust. It was hard to even see a route to get to it, and it was impermissible to even attempt to get there. This is how it was for most of the tunnels. huge lengths of it were inaccessible, but surely, they hold innumerable other secrets. Through all these examples, you should begin to comprehend just how many forgotten stories there are under South. Even the normal part of South holds a rich history and one that is largely unknown. Contemplate, what do you know about South? Do you know when it was constructed? First opened its doors? That is just the above-ground stuff! Most students will not even hear of the tunnels or the stories within. It is truly fascinating to imagine everything that has been down there.
The tunnels beckon another question: How will your memories fare against the test of time? In a couple of years, will any of the new students at South see how you changed something? Teams will be made up of new players, clubs will have new memberships, and teachers will have new classes if they even stay at South. For what is such a huge component of a student’s life, South has no care for you once you leave. Schools are ultimately transient: Get you through the classes, into the cap and gown, give you the diploma, and get you out the door. Yet we do leave an impact. Everything in those tunnels was put there by someone, it is just impossible to know who. This is true of everything in a school. As the seniors of this year fly the coup, they will leave having made an everlasting modification to South, one that neither South nor any of its other students will be able to perceive. The tunnels are simply a catalog of some of the more obscure stories.
