The oldest cave paintings known to man were drawn approximately 40,000 years ago. They adorn a cave in Borneo and depict what is presumed to be a cluster of cows.

What solicited these seemingly aimless yet fun facts, you might ask? Well, with my senior year has come the inevitable reminiscing about the most iconic and unforgettable moments of high school years past. Some stories rival the ranks of Greek mythology: tales of flying shoes, lightning bolts, and fourth-floor swimming pools solicit speculation as they trickle down from the hyperbolizing lips of our pupil predecessors.

Others stories, however, require no contemplation, given that my class and I have had the distinguished honor of witnessing them over our four-year tenure at the high school. We will forever remember the day that a turkey miraculously flew into room 214B during Mrs. Cherico’s extra help session, the time another turkey camped out in the field house for a week, what Fujitani field looked like before being doused in coconut turf, what a day in the life felt like before the “bring your own device” era, and, of course, the fateful moment that the winter Olympics came to Wilton as a senior converted the main lobby staircase into a ski slope.

Unfortunately, as I reflected upon these defining moments of my life as a high schooler, I realized that many current underclassmen (and certainly the students to come) will never know these magnificent fables. The days of seniors submitting their yearbook photos from independent photographers will be as inconceivable to them as life in the 1700s is to our industrial society. And as my class, which is the last to witness such iconic moments, graduates and departs our town of problematic turkeys, stories will also depart the cultural foundation of Wilton High School.

How will we ever remedy this problem? How can we preserve the legacy of beloved retired teachers, or the time when lunch was only split into three parts? Let us circle back to my random fun fact: cave paintings. Just as cavemen drew cows and symbols on their walls, we can emblazon our walls with depictions of the most defining moments in Warrior pop culture. Future freshmen will walk to their 85-minute classes while learning about legendary events, such as the period of history when their impending class would only have lasted for a blissful 45 minutes.

While Wilton High School has an endless supply of tales worth remembering, I am not oblivious to the fact that, sadly, there are many memories from years ago that have already escaped us. Even my sisters, alumnae from only three years ago, have a surplus of recollections that are foreign to me. But it is never too late to begin preserving the high school’s amusing and fascinating history. So grab your paint brushes and favorite memories. If your art skills remotely approach the caliber of a caveman’s painting proficiency, that will more than suffice. And, in 40,000 years, we can only hope that historians will remember the turkey who crashed (literally) a math extra help session one morning.

Olivia Vitarelli is a senior at Wilton High School. She shares this column with three classmates.