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When was the last time you opened your high school yearbook?
How often does one have probable cause to open Pandora’s Box—vis a vis a high school yearbook? Inspired by what transpired, I now have probable cause to open a bound treasure trove of bygone memories.
A member of Lincoln Senior High’s class of 1969, my upcoming 50th high school reunion fast approaches. It just so happens, a former classmate and teaching colleague reached out, asking if I’d be interested in contributing my bio to the LHS 1969 newsletter. Her email arrived on the heels of having acquired a copy of my Nonfiction Sixties Memoir collection:
“I was wondering if you would like to write a bio for this newsletter. I know writing comes natural for you, I also think classmates would love to know about your talents and success as a writer.”
Already moved by having read bio updates of several fellow classmates, and touched by her gracious invitation, I eagerly accepted. And, so I delved into the surface of ''100 Wild Mushrooms: Memoirs of the ‘60s''—only because several junior-senior high moments are sprinkled throughout. My classmates will immediately identify teachers whose names I’ve modified. As well, they’re sure to recognize a smattering of kindred seniors on a first-name basis.
From Memoir #62: Senior Moments:
World current events of the Sixties may be somewhat hazy, but my senior class trip to New York in May of ‘69 is vivid as though it occurred yesterday. The guys had to wear sport jackets and ties. We gals wore dresses with hosiery.
All of Mr. R’s senior history students fit comfortably on a single Greyhound with only one chaperone—Mr. R! We affectionately called him “The Buddha” because he always sat cross-legged on a table during lessons, and his round belly hung over his belt.
When we arrived in the big city, Mr. R kept the guys under close supervision to make sure they didn’t wander off to buy booze. We gals had free rein to go wherever we pleased until boarding time.
It should go without saying that you don’t have to be a member of Lincoln High’s Class of ’69 to enjoy the book—but, if you are…
I consider it an honor and privilege to donate a signed/personalized copy to be raffled on the memorable occasion of this 50th reunion.
In the meantime, with probable cause, I’ll stroll through the high school halls of fame, turning the pages of ''Conspectus 1969''.
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as always, I enjoyed reading your interesting article
Never Stop Writing!!
m
Be prepared. I was overwhelmed with the demand for my books by my classmates. But so many didn't even have email addresses, making it harder to communicate. I still do with some, occasionally, and have the only copy of the Annual Tiger that my brother and I shared (cost?). Mr. B, our wood carving (whittling) teacher (no easy classes in my high school), carved a full-sized tiger out of the single piece of wood so that we didn't have to keep any poor feline captive like my last employer, TSU, did to drag out for football games.
As part of a doctoral course in educational sociology, I did a study of the cliques in my high school. While no 90214, there was a lot of drama going on among the different factions. Fortunately, I moved rather freely among them and didn't join. Unfortunately, labeled as a "brain." Something I found that I was really quite unworthy of when it came to brainpower and knowledge.
Ron