This last couple of weeks, I find myself taking a different route through Augusta to avoid the corner of Winthrop and State streets. It is just too hard to pass by the sad pile of rubble where the stately YMCA used to stand.

 I suspect that many others experience the same feelings — caught up in a wave of emotions of our own personal experience.

 My thoughts go back to the 1950s, when I learned to swim in the pool under the watchful eye of Sam McCall. The Y’s director for many years, Sam was short, physically hard as rock, and had the gentle hand of a grandfather dealing with the hundreds of kids who, like me, spent much of their formative years there.

 I was taught to play basketball, learning how to drive in for a layup in a gym where there was no space between basket and wall. I remember scoring 21 points in a Pee Wee game one Saturday morning (a figure I had a hard time matching for an entire season when I played for Cony).

 I played for Clark Studio and Jim Clark, and then for Coffin Engineering and Ed Coffin, a basketball legend who probably has forgotten more about the sport than most people will ever know.

 As I grew older, the role of the Y in my life changed.

 The most important event of the week became the Friday night dances at the Y with all the teenage drama and angst about who would be there with whom.

 Anyone who was there that night will remember when Timmy Burns showed up wearing his Cony jacket — which had just been skunked an hour earlier.

 I can’t remember if Timmy left or everyone else did, but certainly no one had any interest in being in the same room with him.

 In the 1970s, the community pitched in for a new addition with a sparkling large gym and pool, which served the community for more than three decades.

 Sure, there were financial ups and downs, but KennebecValley residents always rose to the occasion through a series of campaigns to keep the doors open.

 As I grew older, the Y’s role in my life changed again. For me, it was the men’s basketball league on week nights — playing with and against a great bunch of guys and then heading over to American Lunch for a couple of beers and much storytelling.

 When Birdie and I had kids, the cycle began to repeat itself, with Jonathan and Shari taking swim lessons, Jonathan playing basketball and Shari dancing.

 We all know that the old building (including the 1970s addition) just outgrew its usefulness.

 We simply needed a new Y, and even though no one thought enough money could be raised, a dedicated group of volunteers thought otherwise and raised more than $11 million under the persistent leadership of a terrific team.

 The gem of a facility at CapitolPark is the result, and a whole new generation is being served in ways which never would have been possible in the old building.

 Yet, even vacant, the old Y, with its stately white columns, remained an iconic and signature Augusta building. It is a shame it could not be saved, but the reality is that it could not.

 Its current owner, Lon Walters, struggled for two years to try to put together a reuse plan. Even with historic tax credits and other creative financing ideas, the recession and the reality of huge renovation costs simply made that impossible. He held on as long as he could, and for that he should have our thanks.

 City government helped mothball the building and seek out investors, but it was just not to be.

 The end of the story that no one wanted has now been written, and the old Y has been torn down.

 We have lost a part of our past, a house of memories for many generations and for that we cannot be proud. Maybe we could have all done better. I don’t know.

 But as we dedicate ourselves to keeping the “new” Y healthy and vibrant, let us all take a moment and say goodbye to a wonderful old friend.

Augusta native Roger Katz served as the city’s mayor from 2007 until 2011, when he resigned after being elected to the state Senate. He represents Augusta, China, Sidney, Oakland and Vassalboro, which comprise Senate District 24.