So a little slice of Jarrod. One is my elementary school. The other is a cemetery. That stone wall you see in the one separates the two. I grew up playing in a playground that abutted a graveyard.
It was especially interesting the day there was a funeral for a member of the Hell's Angels, with rival Motorcycle Clubs in attendance. They assigned a member of the club to guard the schoolyard. My Mother was a volunteer at the school, and talked with one of the Hell's Angels for a while. He seemed nice.