 | ||
| These were very popular pieces of jewelry for girls during our PCHS days. It would be years later that I understand the Biblical message of the mustard seed. (Luke 13:19) |
Showing posts with label Student "Activities". Show all posts
Showing posts with label Student "Activities". Show all posts
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Mustard Seed Necklace
Sunday, July 24, 2011
PIRAZET, 1959---The Way We Were--Part 1
I HAVE INTENTIONALLY AVOIDED RE-LOOKING AT OUR 1959 PIRAZET YEARBOOK UNTIL I HAD THE BLOG UP AND RUNNING. WHY? TO ATTEMPT TO DRAW UNAIDED FROM MY FADING MEMORY THOSE EXPERIENCES WHICH, FOR WHATEVER REASON, FOUND THEIR WAY INTO MY MEMORY BANK. ANOTHER REASON IS, I KNOW WE HAVE LOST SEVERAL CLASSMATES AND I SELFISHLY WANTED TO AVOID SCRAPPING THE SCAB OFF THE HEALING OF MY OWN GRIEF.
1. The Forward contains the line "In it you will find a record of some of the highlights of our high school days." I have often wondered if we, collectively and individually, achieved the dreams and goals we had in those wonderful and optimistic days of 1959. Maybe a better question might be; have we become, and are we becoming, the kind of person God wants us to be? This question assumes greater relevancy as we age and become increasingly aware of our own mortality. The sand is falling rapidly through His Eternal Divine hour glass.
2. The Dedication to Mr. Walter Weiss says volumes about our appreciation for him but also our willingness to Dedicate to someone no longer on the school staff. Mr. Weiss was a student's principal. He put students first and students instinctively knew it. Here is a revelation that few, if any, of you knew. I coached the 7-8th grade basketball team during our Junior year. Of course, I wasn't paid. From time to time he would shake hands with me and leave a $5 bill and mutter, "This is for gas." This money came from his own pocket.
3. The Administration, with the exception of Mr. Harris, seldom came into our area of immediate concern. Maybe that's the best kind of leadership. My folks never said anything about any of the Administration. This is probably a case of "No news is good news."
4. Faculty More on this section at a later date, maybe.
5. Graduates: It is this section of our photographs and activities that causes me great joy as well as great sadness. Call me sentimental; call me immature, call me nostalgic, call me frozen in time, but please don't call me selfish for always remembering the joy and mutual enrichment we brought to each other. Every life, I mean every life, is an Academy Award winning biography. At 17 years of age, I sure didn't know that; but I sure do know that now.
MORE LATER
1. The Forward contains the line "In it you will find a record of some of the highlights of our high school days." I have often wondered if we, collectively and individually, achieved the dreams and goals we had in those wonderful and optimistic days of 1959. Maybe a better question might be; have we become, and are we becoming, the kind of person God wants us to be? This question assumes greater relevancy as we age and become increasingly aware of our own mortality. The sand is falling rapidly through His Eternal Divine hour glass.
2. The Dedication to Mr. Walter Weiss says volumes about our appreciation for him but also our willingness to Dedicate to someone no longer on the school staff. Mr. Weiss was a student's principal. He put students first and students instinctively knew it. Here is a revelation that few, if any, of you knew. I coached the 7-8th grade basketball team during our Junior year. Of course, I wasn't paid. From time to time he would shake hands with me and leave a $5 bill and mutter, "This is for gas." This money came from his own pocket.
3. The Administration, with the exception of Mr. Harris, seldom came into our area of immediate concern. Maybe that's the best kind of leadership. My folks never said anything about any of the Administration. This is probably a case of "No news is good news."
4. Faculty More on this section at a later date, maybe.
5. Graduates: It is this section of our photographs and activities that causes me great joy as well as great sadness. Call me sentimental; call me immature, call me nostalgic, call me frozen in time, but please don't call me selfish for always remembering the joy and mutual enrichment we brought to each other. Every life, I mean every life, is an Academy Award winning biography. At 17 years of age, I sure didn't know that; but I sure do know that now.
MORE LATER
Monday, July 18, 2011
The Great 1956 PCHS Presidential Debate
SOMETIMES GREAT IDEAS HAVE UNINTENDED CONSEQUENCES !
Prior to the 1956 Presidential Election between President Dwight Eisenhower (R) and challenger Adlai Stevenson (D), Principal Ira Whitakler called an assembly and wanted students to speak in favor of their choice for president.
Note: I must give a couple of accounts from my own experience that preceded the Great Debate by many years:
1. I was nine or ten years old and was walking with my father from our house that we shared with the Fredericks to what we called the "Back Field" To this day, I can take you to the exact spot where I asked my father this question: "Dad, what is the Government?" I didn't understand his answer then. But he said, "In this country, the Government is the people." Years later, I understood his answer very, very well. In fact, I would spend 20 years of my life in the military "defending the Constitution of The United States against all enemies foreign and domestic."
2. At 12 years of age my grandfather in Kentucky asked me to join him on the porch swing. He told me I was old enough to understand the world of politics. He said, "Son, the Republicans believe in the poor getting poorer and the rich getting richer!" The legendary Country and Western singer Bob Wills said in one of his songs, "Time changes everything." I surely believe that includes political party preferences.
Back to the debate: Several speakers were lined up, mostly seniors, and the speeches were polite and civil at the start. I sat in amazement as I heard students, I knew very well, give opinions that obviously had been learned at home. For an instant, I considered getting in line to speak. But then it happened.
I don't know who started it but the rhetoric quickly changed and speakers started challenging each other. What could have been a good civics lesson degenerated into loud name calling and accusations that were way off the intended purpose of the debate. The most memorable comment, at least for me, was the bold statement by a heated Stevenson supporter that it was a Republican, Abe Lincoln, that gave us the Civil War! (Wow! I thought the Civil War was about slavery and it was President Lincoln that freed the slaves!)
It was at this point, about 20 minutes into the Great Debate, when Principal Ira Whitaker stepped in and said the assembly was over and students were to return to their normal classes. I never heard anyone speak of politics again, at least in public.
Prior to the 1956 Presidential Election between President Dwight Eisenhower (R) and challenger Adlai Stevenson (D), Principal Ira Whitakler called an assembly and wanted students to speak in favor of their choice for president.
Note: I must give a couple of accounts from my own experience that preceded the Great Debate by many years:
1. I was nine or ten years old and was walking with my father from our house that we shared with the Fredericks to what we called the "Back Field" To this day, I can take you to the exact spot where I asked my father this question: "Dad, what is the Government?" I didn't understand his answer then. But he said, "In this country, the Government is the people." Years later, I understood his answer very, very well. In fact, I would spend 20 years of my life in the military "defending the Constitution of The United States against all enemies foreign and domestic."
2. At 12 years of age my grandfather in Kentucky asked me to join him on the porch swing. He told me I was old enough to understand the world of politics. He said, "Son, the Republicans believe in the poor getting poorer and the rich getting richer!" The legendary Country and Western singer Bob Wills said in one of his songs, "Time changes everything." I surely believe that includes political party preferences.
Back to the debate: Several speakers were lined up, mostly seniors, and the speeches were polite and civil at the start. I sat in amazement as I heard students, I knew very well, give opinions that obviously had been learned at home. For an instant, I considered getting in line to speak. But then it happened.
I don't know who started it but the rhetoric quickly changed and speakers started challenging each other. What could have been a good civics lesson degenerated into loud name calling and accusations that were way off the intended purpose of the debate. The most memorable comment, at least for me, was the bold statement by a heated Stevenson supporter that it was a Republican, Abe Lincoln, that gave us the Civil War! (Wow! I thought the Civil War was about slavery and it was President Lincoln that freed the slaves!)
It was at this point, about 20 minutes into the Great Debate, when Principal Ira Whitaker stepped in and said the assembly was over and students were to return to their normal classes. I never heard anyone speak of politics again, at least in public.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
"Judge Not; Lest Ye Be Judged"
OK. The title of this Post may not accurately describe the contents of this Post. However, the Post does reflect errors of judgement.
As a member of Future Farmers of America ( I never aspired to be a career farmer; each horizon of every field seemed to be calling my name) I tried to make as many of the judging contests as possible---you got out of school for most of a day!
Dairy Cow judging proved difficult. Our team never got past the qualifying round. The cows were always haltered in a barn and the teams from various schools ranked individual cows, best to worst, with reasons for the placement.
Beef Cattle was easier to judge because most of our team had beef cattle on their farms. We had four head on our small acreage. At the contests it was ranking, best to worst, with reasons why. On our best year, we qualified for the round beyond the local contest. We lost and our dreams of going to the state contest evaporated.
Weeds and Seeds Identification was harder than it sounds. The grain and grass seeds were not that hard to identify. However, the weed seeds were very hard. So many weeds have very similar sizes and colors of seeds. We once had a weeds and seeds contest at the Vernon Courthouse and we completed our initial round and had time to kill before round two. We wandered the building until we found a court in session and proceeded to find seats in the back of the court room. We had not been there very long until the judge demanded we stop talking to each other or he would have us removed. Hey, we can take a hint. We got up and left. We did make the next contest, but again lost.
Soil Judging consisted of ranking various open pits in the ground that had been made by a bulldozer or tractor back hoe. We had to identify the class of soil and suggested crops or cover planting to prevent erosion. We made it to the round that was the stepping stone to the state finals. Confidence was in abundance on our team.
I don't know how my teammates scored, I only know I blew my evaluation. I scored the open pit as the worst type of soil and was only worth planting trees to prevent erosion. At the conclusion of the contest the judges announced that the soil I ranked worst was in fact a top crop producing soil that could easily yield 100 bushel of corn per acre! It was very, very quiet on our ride back to school.
As a member of Future Farmers of America ( I never aspired to be a career farmer; each horizon of every field seemed to be calling my name) I tried to make as many of the judging contests as possible---you got out of school for most of a day!
Dairy Cow judging proved difficult. Our team never got past the qualifying round. The cows were always haltered in a barn and the teams from various schools ranked individual cows, best to worst, with reasons for the placement.
Beef Cattle was easier to judge because most of our team had beef cattle on their farms. We had four head on our small acreage. At the contests it was ranking, best to worst, with reasons why. On our best year, we qualified for the round beyond the local contest. We lost and our dreams of going to the state contest evaporated.
Weeds and Seeds Identification was harder than it sounds. The grain and grass seeds were not that hard to identify. However, the weed seeds were very hard. So many weeds have very similar sizes and colors of seeds. We once had a weeds and seeds contest at the Vernon Courthouse and we completed our initial round and had time to kill before round two. We wandered the building until we found a court in session and proceeded to find seats in the back of the court room. We had not been there very long until the judge demanded we stop talking to each other or he would have us removed. Hey, we can take a hint. We got up and left. We did make the next contest, but again lost.
Soil Judging consisted of ranking various open pits in the ground that had been made by a bulldozer or tractor back hoe. We had to identify the class of soil and suggested crops or cover planting to prevent erosion. We made it to the round that was the stepping stone to the state finals. Confidence was in abundance on our team.
I don't know how my teammates scored, I only know I blew my evaluation. I scored the open pit as the worst type of soil and was only worth planting trees to prevent erosion. At the conclusion of the contest the judges announced that the soil I ranked worst was in fact a top crop producing soil that could easily yield 100 bushel of corn per acre! It was very, very quiet on our ride back to school.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
What's Inside Your Pocket? v2.0
NOTE: None of the original Post has been modified in any way. I failed to add in the original Post that the lighter and little cigars in my pockets disappeared at the start of the first semester of my Junior year. Also, I still feel a profound regret for deceiving my parents, relatives, school classmates/teachers and the people of the Commiskey Baptist Church by my willful and selfish disobedience of both Biblical and healthy living standards. Thankfully, Jesus is all about forgiveness and a fresh start (1 John 1:9) .
Long before the unwashed, uncouth, and unshaven horde of Vikings invaded our TV's in the Capital One commercial and asked "What's Inside Your Wallet?" it was a save bet that few male students at PCHS during the 1955-59 era even carried a wallet. But it was almost certain that many of the fellows carried about the same cargo in their blue jean pockets.
There was a pocket knife, a few had Barlows, others had the American version of the Swiss Army knife with a zillion blades. A couple of guys had switch blade knives! Most had hand-me-down old knives from a father or older brother. Knife swapping was occasionally performed. Both sides would inspect their prospective new knife by opening and closing the blade(s) and wiggling the blade(s) back and forth to determine the stability of the knife. Somewhat like characters in old black and white Westerns would bite a gold coin to see if it was the real McCoy Needless to say, carrying a knife today would get a student expelled and possibly sent to a juvenile detention center.
The second must have item was a cigarette lighter, no matter if you smoked or not. Some gents carried an honest to goodness Zippo lighter; however, most were imitations. I once carried a lighter that was in the shape of a Coke Cola bottle, complete with red logo on the silver colored, miniature metal bottle The sound of a Zippo lighter quickly snapped closed sounded like a cricket with COPD! Lighter fluid and lighter flints were in constant demand. One day, an upperclassman, now deceased, had a can of Red Devil lighter fluid leak out of his front blue jean pocket at school, resulting in some embarrassing first aid.
Some fellows had half-smoked Camels or Lucky Strikes in a crushed pack and carried them in their back pocket. The Marlboro cowboy was still out on the range breathing clean air free of tobacco smoke. Some tough guys, after school, would carry their cigarette package in a rolled up t-shirt sleeve like New York bad guys.
For the curious, I had a knife, lighter and a small tin container of "Between The Acts" little cigars. I seldom smoked the very strong cigars that earned their name as a short smoke between the acts of Broadway plays.(See, it was not what you may have thought!) My first cigar was a shared six cent King Edward we passed around outside of a Farm Bureau meeting at the Lovett Grade School. In a failed attempt to stop my head from spinning, I lay on the exit steps of the 1st-4th grade building and put a foot on the ground without achieving any relief. I, like Bill Clinton, never inhaled and never smoked at night because I could not see the smoke!
To use a contemporary term---I was never busted. I did have one very embarrassing close call. During an extended hospital stay of my mother, I was picked up one day after school and taken to the home of Leland Mathews' aunts in Commiskey to try on some clothes Leland had outgrown. (It is worth mentioning this was just one of many acts of kindness from Leland's family.) Miss Clara and Mrs. Lurton, two of my Sunday School teachers, gave me several pairs of jeans/slacks to try on. Somehow, I left my own jeans, containing the knife, lighter and the little cigars in a room separate from the ad hoc dressing room. I was very worried they might enter the room where my trio of very disappointing items were hidden in the pockets of my jeans. They did not and I breathed a sigh of relief as they took me and my much appreciated "new" clothes to my uncle's, where I was staying.
Long before the unwashed, uncouth, and unshaven horde of Vikings invaded our TV's in the Capital One commercial and asked "What's Inside Your Wallet?" it was a save bet that few male students at PCHS during the 1955-59 era even carried a wallet. But it was almost certain that many of the fellows carried about the same cargo in their blue jean pockets.
There was a pocket knife, a few had Barlows, others had the American version of the Swiss Army knife with a zillion blades. A couple of guys had switch blade knives! Most had hand-me-down old knives from a father or older brother. Knife swapping was occasionally performed. Both sides would inspect their prospective new knife by opening and closing the blade(s) and wiggling the blade(s) back and forth to determine the stability of the knife. Somewhat like characters in old black and white Westerns would bite a gold coin to see if it was the real McCoy Needless to say, carrying a knife today would get a student expelled and possibly sent to a juvenile detention center.
The second must have item was a cigarette lighter, no matter if you smoked or not. Some gents carried an honest to goodness Zippo lighter; however, most were imitations. I once carried a lighter that was in the shape of a Coke Cola bottle, complete with red logo on the silver colored, miniature metal bottle The sound of a Zippo lighter quickly snapped closed sounded like a cricket with COPD! Lighter fluid and lighter flints were in constant demand. One day, an upperclassman, now deceased, had a can of Red Devil lighter fluid leak out of his front blue jean pocket at school, resulting in some embarrassing first aid.
Some fellows had half-smoked Camels or Lucky Strikes in a crushed pack and carried them in their back pocket. The Marlboro cowboy was still out on the range breathing clean air free of tobacco smoke. Some tough guys, after school, would carry their cigarette package in a rolled up t-shirt sleeve like New York bad guys.
For the curious, I had a knife, lighter and a small tin container of "Between The Acts" little cigars. I seldom smoked the very strong cigars that earned their name as a short smoke between the acts of Broadway plays.(See, it was not what you may have thought!) My first cigar was a shared six cent King Edward we passed around outside of a Farm Bureau meeting at the Lovett Grade School. In a failed attempt to stop my head from spinning, I lay on the exit steps of the 1st-4th grade building and put a foot on the ground without achieving any relief. I, like Bill Clinton, never inhaled and never smoked at night because I could not see the smoke!
To use a contemporary term---I was never busted. I did have one very embarrassing close call. During an extended hospital stay of my mother, I was picked up one day after school and taken to the home of Leland Mathews' aunts in Commiskey to try on some clothes Leland had outgrown. (It is worth mentioning this was just one of many acts of kindness from Leland's family.) Miss Clara and Mrs. Lurton, two of my Sunday School teachers, gave me several pairs of jeans/slacks to try on. Somehow, I left my own jeans, containing the knife, lighter and the little cigars in a room separate from the ad hoc dressing room. I was very worried they might enter the room where my trio of very disappointing items were hidden in the pockets of my jeans. They did not and I breathed a sigh of relief as they took me and my much appreciated "new" clothes to my uncle's, where I was staying.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Bath On A Path
For my years at PCHS we had outdoor toilets. After some boys burned the old one, they were ordered to construct a new one. A brother of one of the "Out house fire bugs" carved a note that this new toilet was from the efforts of....and he named the guilty.
Our basketball coach warned the players that he had better not catch them just hanging out at the toilet. You had better be doing your business and get away as soon as possible. The coach knew a bunch of the boys smoked at the out house.
On one occasion I was there just in time to see a match tossed down one of the three holes. The paper ignited and threatened to burn it down again! The quick action by me and the two smokers saved the day. We carried snow to douse the blaze for so long my hands seemed frost bitten.
I was less worried about the toilet burning down than the coach catching me there. I would have been "numbered with the transgressors!"
Our basketball coach warned the players that he had better not catch them just hanging out at the toilet. You had better be doing your business and get away as soon as possible. The coach knew a bunch of the boys smoked at the out house.
On one occasion I was there just in time to see a match tossed down one of the three holes. The paper ignited and threatened to burn it down again! The quick action by me and the two smokers saved the day. We carried snow to douse the blaze for so long my hands seemed frost bitten.
I was less worried about the toilet burning down than the coach catching me there. I would have been "numbered with the transgressors!"
The Not So Perfect Storm
I believe this event happened our junior year.
It was not snowing when the buses arrived at PCHS one wintry morning. About 10am the snow started falling. We are talking half dollar size snow flakes! In a matter of just a few minutes the ground was totally covered and it showed no signs of letting up.
Students with cars were released to go home. Several inches fell in less than half an hour. Boy students were sent outside to help push any cars that may have become stuck. We were told the buses were on their way to take us home. The snow kept falling and it was a wet snow, ideal for rolling snow balls ---gigantic, mega snow balls!
One male student (name withheld) suggested we start rolling huge snow balls and block the entrance into the school. Imagine several boys rolling snow balls that were at least six feet in diameter. The snow balls were placed at the entrances to the "U" drive in front of the school.
About the time the buses started to arrive, our principal came out and shouted that the snow balls must be immediately removed. The snow was now so deep rolling them away was impossible. The only shovels at the school were in the coal fired boiler room. Two gents at a time had the shovels flying and the snow was knocked down to where the buses could safely turn.
On the trip back to Lovett our bus could not make it up the hill just outside the Paris Crossing turn off. The driver orders us out and to start pushing. Several boys pushing from the back got the bus to the top of the hill and our remaining journey home was without event. We were soaked from the flying snow from the large tires.
Can you imagine this happening today? Some parent would sue the school for putting their "Johnny" in harms way! Maybe some wrecker union would file a suit that the boys kept them from a paycheck! The school system today might sue the radio stations for not providing enough warning!
In all 12 years of schooling (Lovett and PCHS) I never knew of anyone suing anybody for anything! My have things changed!
It was not snowing when the buses arrived at PCHS one wintry morning. About 10am the snow started falling. We are talking half dollar size snow flakes! In a matter of just a few minutes the ground was totally covered and it showed no signs of letting up.
Students with cars were released to go home. Several inches fell in less than half an hour. Boy students were sent outside to help push any cars that may have become stuck. We were told the buses were on their way to take us home. The snow kept falling and it was a wet snow, ideal for rolling snow balls ---gigantic, mega snow balls!
One male student (name withheld) suggested we start rolling huge snow balls and block the entrance into the school. Imagine several boys rolling snow balls that were at least six feet in diameter. The snow balls were placed at the entrances to the "U" drive in front of the school.
About the time the buses started to arrive, our principal came out and shouted that the snow balls must be immediately removed. The snow was now so deep rolling them away was impossible. The only shovels at the school were in the coal fired boiler room. Two gents at a time had the shovels flying and the snow was knocked down to where the buses could safely turn.
On the trip back to Lovett our bus could not make it up the hill just outside the Paris Crossing turn off. The driver orders us out and to start pushing. Several boys pushing from the back got the bus to the top of the hill and our remaining journey home was without event. We were soaked from the flying snow from the large tires.
Can you imagine this happening today? Some parent would sue the school for putting their "Johnny" in harms way! Maybe some wrecker union would file a suit that the boys kept them from a paycheck! The school system today might sue the radio stations for not providing enough warning!
In all 12 years of schooling (Lovett and PCHS) I never knew of anyone suing anybody for anything! My have things changed!
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Cafeteria Chaos
Long, long, before school lunches became politicized, long,long before school lunches cost 2 bucks a meal, and long, long before schools developed an avenue to handle student discontent, there was the infamous school lunch incident at PCHS.
During our Sophomore year, some of the boys, primarily seniors, showed their displeasure with the food served in the cafeteria by turning their plates over, the food sandwiched between plate and the table top. This was followed by notes to the cooks from the upset diners. Most were laced with the worst sort of profanity.
The Principal, Ira Whitaker, called an emergency assembly after several days of these events. He started by lambasting anyone who would do such a terrible thing. He said he wanted to find out specific complaints and asked for student response.
One student stood and said, "OK, when we had creamed corn the other day I found more cob in my corn than corn." Lots of student laughter followed. Thrown a bit off stride by this unexpected input, Mr. Whitaker countered with his trump card, " Where else in Indiana could you find lunches like ours for only 20 cents?"
An unidentified sitting student shot back, "Nowhere, (expleted deleted); they wouldn't allow you to serve it!" Applause and much laughter followed. Mr. Whitaker's face, and bald head, turned beet red and he said in a very loud voice" This assembly is over and so is the terrible behavior in our cafeteria!"
Amazingly, the cafeteria incidents stopped but the food didn't get any better. At least the cooks were not exposed to four-letter remarks and almost impossible to clean table tops.
During our Sophomore year, some of the boys, primarily seniors, showed their displeasure with the food served in the cafeteria by turning their plates over, the food sandwiched between plate and the table top. This was followed by notes to the cooks from the upset diners. Most were laced with the worst sort of profanity.
The Principal, Ira Whitaker, called an emergency assembly after several days of these events. He started by lambasting anyone who would do such a terrible thing. He said he wanted to find out specific complaints and asked for student response.
One student stood and said, "OK, when we had creamed corn the other day I found more cob in my corn than corn." Lots of student laughter followed. Thrown a bit off stride by this unexpected input, Mr. Whitaker countered with his trump card, " Where else in Indiana could you find lunches like ours for only 20 cents?"
An unidentified sitting student shot back, "Nowhere, (expleted deleted); they wouldn't allow you to serve it!" Applause and much laughter followed. Mr. Whitaker's face, and bald head, turned beet red and he said in a very loud voice" This assembly is over and so is the terrible behavior in our cafeteria!"
Amazingly, the cafeteria incidents stopped but the food didn't get any better. At least the cooks were not exposed to four-letter remarks and almost impossible to clean table tops.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
The DREADED Freshman Initiation
Fall of 1955 was the start of our Freshman year at PCHS. We had heard rumors of the horrible things that would happen to us during a rite of passage called INITIATION.
A few days into the semester nothing had happened. I breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe they forgot? Wrong! Then it happened. The directions were given and the INITIATION was on. We had to dress as our the upperclassmen (I think it was seniors only) directed. I wore one of Mom's dresses and felt like a fool when I boarded the bus.
I don't remember when we were blindfolded and led to the gym. The order of events in the gym is murky. I am very positive of the last one.
We had our hands covered by eggs in a bowl and then we had our hands put into a bowl of flour and required to take a bite. We were told we had to eat an eyeball of some animal. Our hands were guided to a bowl of peeled grapes. We could not see they were grapes. We had to grab one and eat it. The taste gave it away at once.
Next (our blindfolds still on) we were told to have a seat and we would be lifted to the ceiling of the gym. Somehow our chairs were slightly raised and a noise indicated we were on our way up. I was about to scream! Never did like heights. After a few seconds, our heads touched a board held by an upperclassmen and told we were at the ceiling. Then we were told to take our blindfolds off and what a relief to see we were just inches above the FLOOR!
I am not real sure how we got wet but be were directed to sit in a chair that had been connected to the coil of an old car and a hand cranked generator gave us a real shock. The ordeal was concluded and we all survived.
The upperclassmen had lots of laughs at our expense, but the next day they welcomed us as full fledged members of the Paris Crossing High School.
The Initiation may have gone on one additional year. I know it didn't happen when my class entered the junior year.
Wonder how many lawsuits would be filed if that sort of activity went on today. It didn't kill us and we were made to feel silly for a day; but we had earned the right to be treated as members of the high school student body!
Its funny how some parts of our lives seem to never fade from our memories. The Class of 1959 started on a grand journey of learning, dreaming, and exploring all the while totally unaware the next four years would shape and mold so many of our futures. Furthermore, we had little understanding that in years to come our classmates, teachers, and events would serve as a centerpiece mental magnet of our individual and collective memories.
A few days into the semester nothing had happened. I breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe they forgot? Wrong! Then it happened. The directions were given and the INITIATION was on. We had to dress as our the upperclassmen (I think it was seniors only) directed. I wore one of Mom's dresses and felt like a fool when I boarded the bus.
I don't remember when we were blindfolded and led to the gym. The order of events in the gym is murky. I am very positive of the last one.
We had our hands covered by eggs in a bowl and then we had our hands put into a bowl of flour and required to take a bite. We were told we had to eat an eyeball of some animal. Our hands were guided to a bowl of peeled grapes. We could not see they were grapes. We had to grab one and eat it. The taste gave it away at once.
Next (our blindfolds still on) we were told to have a seat and we would be lifted to the ceiling of the gym. Somehow our chairs were slightly raised and a noise indicated we were on our way up. I was about to scream! Never did like heights. After a few seconds, our heads touched a board held by an upperclassmen and told we were at the ceiling. Then we were told to take our blindfolds off and what a relief to see we were just inches above the FLOOR!
I am not real sure how we got wet but be were directed to sit in a chair that had been connected to the coil of an old car and a hand cranked generator gave us a real shock. The ordeal was concluded and we all survived.
The upperclassmen had lots of laughs at our expense, but the next day they welcomed us as full fledged members of the Paris Crossing High School.
The Initiation may have gone on one additional year. I know it didn't happen when my class entered the junior year.
Wonder how many lawsuits would be filed if that sort of activity went on today. It didn't kill us and we were made to feel silly for a day; but we had earned the right to be treated as members of the high school student body!
Its funny how some parts of our lives seem to never fade from our memories. The Class of 1959 started on a grand journey of learning, dreaming, and exploring all the while totally unaware the next four years would shape and mold so many of our futures. Furthermore, we had little understanding that in years to come our classmates, teachers, and events would serve as a centerpiece mental magnet of our individual and collective memories.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)