In its hey day, Ellicott Mills Middle School graduated some of Howard County's brightest pupils.
When it was known as Howard High, it was a perfectly adequate facility -- actually, state of the art for its time.
Alas, that was in 1939. Today, the school stands as a reminder of another generation, its physical plant hobbling along toward the end of the 20th Century. But its academic program is sound, and the school continues to make strides on state standardized tests.
Its walls are freshly painted, but many of its classrooms are cramped. Its gym is too small. The science lab is poorly equipped.
Officials at the school had hoped they could compete for the U.S. Department of Education's "Blue Ribbon School Award" in recognition of the school's successes. But the building has been labeled "academically obsolete," making it ineligible for the achievement.
That was a bitter pill for Principal Sterlind S. Burke, who finds himself between a rock and a hard place, supporting his school's gains, while decrying the inadequacies of its building.
"Can you imagine reading that your building is academically obsolete in one of the school system's own publications?" he asks, practically wincing.
You won't find such pained expressions on the other side of Howard, where Principal Bonnie Daniel heads up one of the system's newest facilities.
Wilde Lake High School at River Hill lounges in the cradle of affluent Clarksville, today's state-of-the-art high school -- and then some. The two-story, 232,000-square foot facility sprawls on 50 acres along Route 108, across from street from stately mansions erected on once rolling pastures.
The distance between River Hill and Ellicott Mills is much greater than the actual miles between them.
River Hill's mall-like hallways, its two-story, glass-walled foyers and skylights shaped like pyramids comprise an educational palace.
With two gymnasiums, an expansive auditorium and a smaller "black box" theater, the bells and whistles fairly scream out the school's $27 million price tag.
In nearly every way, River Hill and Ellicott Mills sit in the crux of the debate over school construction in Howard County.
How far should the county go in building new schools? Is it fair to deprive one community of a needed new facility and not another? How much is too much? What is the impact of all this on educating children?
These are the questions that swirl in the void between Howard's newest and oldest schools.
County officials, increasingly put upon to foot the bulk of the bill for new schools due to state government cutbacks, have drawn a line in the sand.
The County Council's new chairman, Charles C. Feaga, has made it a campaign to criticize what he calls the excesses of the school system -- not just in building schools that he contends are too large and overly equipped, but even in using too much paint.
School officials respond that they are cutting back by planning schools that are 10 percent smaller than recent new construction. But they add that savings from the suggested changes will be minimal because the bulk of a new school's cost is the investment in infrastructure -- the road access, utilities, etc. -- not in the frills.
Make no mistake, politics drives this school construction debate more than the floor plans.
In a county as affluent as Howard, parents have become accustomed to the best. Those who get it, such as the families near River Hill, have difficulty considering less, while the have-nots understandably want more.
Since 1985, the date for building a new school for Ellicott Mills has been pushed back several times. The current plan is to begin the process in 1999. Parents are right to hold the school system to this.
But between River Hill and Ellicott Mills are facilities of every stripe, and, truth be told, the quality of the education is rarely determined by the age of the building.
Still, county officials will never convince parents that old is as good as new, or less is better than more.
It is in our nature to move forward and want the best for our children.
They may be excesses at River Hill that should not be repeated. lTC But so long as it exists to epitomize what can be, Howard families will desire it.
Kevin Thomas is The Baltimore Sun's editorial writer in Howard County.