www.roanoke.com

The tin can that held a bit of each of their childhood memories sat on a tabletop in Raleigh Court Elementary School.

The dusty can, wrapped and sealed with translucent tape, had not been opened in more than eight years.

A group of 30 elementary students sealed the tin can away in a storage closet and, as time passed, the can and its contents became a distant memory, the students said. Only three of the students had a vague idea of what they had placed in the tin. It was so long ago, they all said, when asked to recall their time capsule’s contents.

Now, as high school seniors nearing graduation in June, the group of former Raleigh Court Elementary fourth-grade classmates gathered in the elementary school’s library along with their families and elementary school teachers to open the tin can.

From Salem, Botetourt and Roanoke, the students reunited Jan. 7 to open the capsule, as they had promised in the fourth grade. Some students spoke to one another for the first time in years. Memories of being best friends forever and promises of love flooded their minds as they waited to open the can.

“Good memories,” said Jasper Jackson, now a senior at Salem High School.

While catching up, the group waited anxiously for their former fourth-grade teacher, Ashley Duffey , to open the tin and discover what they placed inside.

Duffey didn’t remember everything the students placed inside but she recalls telling the students to write their future dreams and wishes along with drawing a picture of how they thought they would look.

“I think I put something stupid in there,” said Tyler Brown, a senior at Patrick Henry High School. “I just want to see.”

Tyler brought along his mother, Bonnie Brown, to the event. Brown, who often volunteered with Tyler’s class while he was at Raleigh Court Elementary, said she wanted to see if Tyler placed one of her belongings in the tin eight years ago.

“I want to see what he put in there, and plus I want to see if he put something he wasn’t supposed to in there,” she said. “It’s driving me crazy, too.”

Brown looked around at Tyler’s classmates standing and socializing in the library, one of the rooms in which she used to volunteer .

“That time has just gone by so fast,” she said as she noticed how the students have grown. “I wish I could make him go back.”

Duffey approached the can with scissors in her hand as Brown stood reminiscing.

“Let’s get this thing open,” Duffey said as she sliced through the tape that sealed the tin can.

The students crowded around the table as Duffey popped the top of the tin and pulled out the first item — a laminated page of classified ads for vehicles to compare prices , and pictures and calendars of golden retrievers that were overflowing out of the tin.

“Someone really liked dogs,” Duffey said. “We still have pets in 2008. Pets are good.”

After no student claimed the calendars and pictures, she pulled out a pack of Pokemon trading cards.

“Yes,” screamed Amanda Bill, now a senior at Patrick Henry . “I want that.”

Duffey returned objects that students thought represented trends that would disappear in 2008, such as a yo-yo, Backstreet Boys tickets and a GAP bag.

Afterwards, Duffey began to return artwork and lists of dreams the students had written.

She handed papers to students who stood all around Tyler and, after a few names, she stopped. She put the papers in one pile and tapped her foot twice.

“The rest of you didn’t put your name on the paper,” she said.

Brown then jumped to the pile of papers and sifted through the pictures.

“I can tell what my son did,” she said.

After looking through a few pictures, her eyes began to fill with tears as she held one picture in the air.

“This one is yours,” she said to Tyler as her voice cracked. “I know it is.”

“No, it’s not,” said Tyler, a wrestler at PH, as he looked at his mom holding the picture — a drawing of a man dressed in a pink outfit.

“Yes, it is,” Brown said as she ran over to him with the picture.

Tyler held the picture a few seconds as he looked at the drawing. After his eyes swept over the paper, he smiled.

He placed the picture on top of his wish list and goals and he and his mother looked over what he wrote when he was a child.

“I’m still in shock,” said Duffey as she watched her students reread the work she once graded. She couldn’t help but feel sad, she said, as she recalled reviewing her students’ handwriting and hearing their voices. Wrinkling her brow, she said she also felt old at the event.

“I feel old,” said Jasper as she looked back at the tin can while holding the yo-yo, — which she had placed in the container eight years ago. “I couldn’t believe so much time has passed.”

“It went too fast,” said her mother, Sandra Jackson of Roanoke. “From fourth to graduation, it went too fast.”

The event lasted a little more than an hour, and after students socialized and caught up on what they missed in one another’s life, they hugged. They went their separate ways and left the tin can with Duffey.