The time capsule

The eighth graders gathered around the flagpole at Alan Shepard Elementary School were in a festive mood. Not only was the 1975 academic year down to its last day – meaning it was all play and no work for students and teachers alike – but each of them had a chance to leave a lasting mark.

Jenny Franks, who taught history, had decided to let the Class of ’75 live on in the form of a time capsule.

Just outside the concrete base of the flagpole was a hole dug by some members of the football team, and Franks and her fellow teachers had gathered up sturdy metal containers to place items in. Each student was asked to bring something that represented themselves and their interests, and it would be put in a box and buried. A plaque would mark the spot.

Fifty years later – on May 14, 2025 – the hope was that the school would still be in operation and the time capsule uncovered.

“OK, kids, gather round,” Franks said, motioning the future high schoolers to come forward. “What we’re doing today is giving up a small part of our past so the people in the future will know a little bit about our lives here in 1975. I know 50 years seems really far off, and it is a half a century from now. But guess what? I hope all of you will be able to come back and take part in the unveiling. By then a lot of you will be close to retiring, and you can bring your kids and grandkids here to see what you contributed to our time capsule project.”

The students carefully eyed the various containers. Danny Childs, who was practically standing in the hole, raised his hand.

“Miss Franks, may I go first?”

“Sure Danny, what’ve you got for us?”

Danny produced an eight-track tape of Bob Dylan’s “Blood on the Tracks.”

“Normally I would keep this, but it drags,” Danny said. “And since I’ve already got the album, I decided to put this in the time capsule. I doubt anyone will even know who he is 50 years from now.”

Phil Priester was next, offering up a white plastic cup sporting a purple and gold Minnesota Vikings logo.

“My uncle brought me a bunch of these because he went to the Super Bowl earlier this year in New Orleans,” he said. “The Vikings lost to Pittsburgh, but they’ll have a lot of Super Bowl wins by 2025.”

The types of artifacts varied greatly from child to child, from the novel “Tuck Everlasting” to comic books, as well as oddities like pool balls. There was even a pewter belt buckle in the shape of the Oscar Meyer Wienermobile gifted to posterity.

However, it was the donations of best friends (and science whizzes) Charlotte Spazio and Astrid Weltraum that intrigued Franks the most. The two had been inseparable ever since Astrid transferred to the school back in September, 1974.

Charlotte was parting with the February, 1975, edition of “Popular Science” magazine, while Astrid handed over a manilla folder – taped closed – with the words “For Charlotte. Do not open until May 14, 2025” written on the front.

“Why this particular edition of the magazine, Charlotte?” Franks asked.

“There’s an article about the HTGR … the High-Temperature Gas-Cooled Reactor,” she replied. “They say it’s a safer alternative to nuclear power as it currently exists. As you know, I want to be a scientist, and I hope to be able to look back 50 years from now and see how far we’ve come … what advancements we’ve made.”

Franks nodded and smiled, and then turned her attention to Astrid.

“OK, Astrid, I’ve got to ask, what’s in the envelope? I mean, this is a pretty specific item to be putting into a time capsule.”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, Miss Franks,” Astrid said, waving to Charlotte as her friend wandered away to talk to some other students.

“Try me.”

“Are you sure? Because after I tell you, you’re never going to think of me the same way again. Well, not for another half century, anyway.”

Franks couldn’t imagine what the 13-year-old was about to reveal, but now she had to know.

“I promise,” Franks said. “No matter what you tell me, I’ll believe you.”

Astrid pursed her lips and thought for a couple of seconds.

“Well, we’re about to make the jump anyway, so here goes. My family and I are interdimensional beings, which allows us to travel through space and time in ways humans can’t grasp. But part of our work is to find ways to help you help yourselves whenever possible. Charlotte is a genius. And 50 years from now, she’s going to be one of the most well-known scientists on the planet. When she opens my envelope, she’ll see instructions on how to construct a time machine – an actual, working time machine. No one else could understand those instructions, but she will, and she’ll immediately get busy making it operational. Of course, she’ll change the course of your history in the process.”

Franks stood in stunned silence. She had no idea how to respond to Astrid, who seemed completely sincere.

“Don’t worry,” Astrid said. “You’ll live to see it. And like millions of other people across the world, you’ll be glad you did. Believe me when I tell you you’ll want to get out of 2025 as fast as you possibly can.”