John Mark Read, an old high-school chum, sent me a copy of his autobiography this week. As I read I was taken back to the days when all was simple, the future was ours for the taking and we were masters of our universe. Those were the days of the ‘sock hop’, watching basketball games in the tiny gymnasiums played between the small-town high schools where everyone knew the players and parents on both sides, and dating.
You know, I think the kids are back to socializing more like we did these days. You see them in bunches and groups, coming and going. We did a lot of things in groups back then as well, especially just before we reached 16. The one who got his driver’s license first was the hit of the gang. Oh, a parent sometimes took a group of us to the movies and picked us up, but our own driver was so much better! I remember seeing Moulin Rouge – the original – and Gone With The Wind. The latter, all four hours of it, was suffered through with a terrible case of poison ivy. Just how much fidgeting can you do in a theater seat?
You don’t forget those special high school friends. For me there was Judy Cox, Julie McCabe, Beverly Ritter, Patty Pasley, Ann Tate, Nancy Slauter and Mary Ellen Masters, among others. Twin brother, Dean, had his buddies, who of course, were subject to the whining wiles of his sister: Jim Brown, John Read, John Davis, Ray McGraw, and others. We would wind up after the basketball games at Ma and Pa Crumley’s for hamburgers and dancing in the basement or go to the Airport diner out on 41 south of Attica. After I snagged John as a boyfriend I didn’t spend as much time with the gang. I guess each of us ‘graduated’ from it as we began dating.
There were favorite teachers and teachers remembered for other reasons. Kenny Cole was coach and the boys either loved or feared him according to their last performance on the bb court or in the classroom. Miss Sims taught us how to type and Mrs. Gillespie taught us to sing and paint. Mr. Pribble suffered through many years of students in his history class.
There were also slumber parties for the girls. I don’t remember the equivalent for the guys. But we had a ball. Five or six teenagers in one house equals high octane bedlam. Ann Tate’s mother was the best hostess since she had as much fun as we did. I think Ann’s dad must have had a night job, or else he made other arrangements to get away.
It’s fun to reminisce about those days when we were bright and new and had it all before us. But now is great, too, and we’ve all added a lot of memories of our own. Have a great week!
