September 2004 The Megaphone Page 8
from 19??
Summer faded . . . school came inevitably . . . musty books, the rhythmic hammering in the new shop addition, laughter, the hall floors polished in faint, concentric patterns.
Autumn was hazy, tangy afternoons; frost-tinged nights; the receding sun casting longer shadows; falling leaves of auburn, lemon, and amber.
The boom of a football as it is kicked, soaring high above the screaming voices of the crowd . . . the band flashing in the smoky sunlight . . .
Classes: outside the window, brilliant, inviting fall – You, there! What is the square of 194? Who was John Cabot? What are the home row keys? Why is – the bell!
Out, away, goodbye school! Football practice, jobs, drugstore, homework?
Well . . . steam hissing in the radiators . . . Halloween . . . Elwood 13,
First snow fell when the basketball team played (and won) their initial games at Plymouth and Warsaw . . .
The days grew shorter, colder . . . a welcome Thanksgiving vacation . . . trading class pictures . . . report cards. Oh, "Is there a pep session the afternoon? Wow, I haven't seen her around here before! Look! My name's in the Megaphone!"
Christmas -- the Crescent Dance, Santa Claus at the freshman party, seniors caroling in the halls, presents, and church on Christmas morning.
FIGHT PANTHERS FIGHT !
Tipton came close . . . the Silver Horseshoe . . . Snow! falling like fine lace from a giant sewing basket -- trees and cars in icy shells. And after school . . . "We have just one announcement this afternoon: The throwing of snowballs in the school area is NOT to be tolerated!"
Too many coats on the hall racks, new leather jackets, dancing in the Den at noon -- Win that sectional!
It didn't happen all at once, but gradually . . . school work became unbearable . . . the air smelled fresher, greener . . . skies were bluer, girls prettier -- it was spring!
A wisp of smoke, and the thin runners shoot out, straining in precisioned strides as they streak over the soft cinders . . .
Convertibles with tops down, tennis, carry your jacket to school, watch the trees turn green, loaf outside Sam's before the bell. The White Sox win nine straight, Easter dresses are in bright colors, and let's go swimming at Clearwater!
A night to remember: The Prom. After weeks of preparation, soft music, roses, dinner jackets, and smooth-shouldered girls -- the young in love, and the cool night of stars.
Graduation a few weeks away. "I won't cry when I leave this place, that's for sure!" "Boy! I'll be a sophomore!"
The last days were spent at gay and melancholy parties . . . then came the caps and gowns . . . practices . . . and finally -- Commencement! It was all over, seemingly . . .
For the underclassmen, there remained two, perhaps three more happy years. But for the seniors, the joyous high school days had ended . . . they remembered -- the ball games, the teachers, tests, homerooms, friends, and loves . . .
During four years, they played and laughed and in more somber moments, they prayed . . . and studied . . . and wished -- not that they could begin anew, for the call of maturity was beckoning -- but they wished they had kept some sort of diary, some record of these few, early years.
This book is that record, created by the people who appear on its pages, and who lived its events . . .
These individuals now go their separate ways, into the wonderful, challenging world. They enjoyed the American heritage of a free education. And they not only learned -- they learned to live.
Any idea which school year this might have been . . . ???
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