Look Deep Into The PAST

Look Deeply Into The Past!

(Right Picture Grade 8-2)

The year is 1967 -September. Expo 67 just finished a month ago.

Grade seven first year “HIGH SCHOOL”.
The Beatles are experimenting with ‘Meditation’ in India. The Rolling Stones are in the studio creating what will become ‘Jumping Jack Flash’.

Steve and Dave Porier, Robin and Marty Hewitt, Norman and Steve Perry and I have made decisions. We will grow our hair –long.

Our parents have taken to the times in their own fashion. Men are growing side burns. Ladies in the neighborhood wear caftans and practice Yoga. Some also make pottery. The arts are blooming and Viet Nam percolates.

We are Lilliputians, delivered into a land of giants. Mitch Morrison, Bruce Porier (Grade 12) and Bruce Maybury (Grade 11) are names invoked with awe by the girls. Us ‘guys’ have all gone ga-ga over the grade eight /grade nine visions in the halls. Oh –and yes, we still have grade 12 in 1968 and a dress code –for a while. (But that‘s another story –told best by Roddy McManus.)

My home room teacher, new it would seem, a person of color, with meticulous accent and a certain ‘just so’ way of turning pages –especially his bible. He has a smile that calms even the most untamed of little beast. I question openly, almost defiantly, his decision to teach, as his strength so clearly seems to lie in his penchant to preach. All is quiet as he casts his spell – turquoise blue lagoons, diving carefree in the sun. How can one even think of passing notes or being mischievous, when this man is talking? Ah! But therein lies the challenge for Steve, Les, Mike and others. Just don’t get caught! We do so like this Mr. Mullahoo. That is what makes things so difficult. He knows us as he once was. Being very careful not to let it show, he enjoys our place in time.

Then the greatest of contests! The Seniors basket ball games. Mythical beings draped in gold and blue gleaming satin, larger than life . “Swish” –a basket, a massive roar, the rhythmic booming of feet on the benches of the folding bleachers.

Next, a competition of a different order, involving fellowship, angst, loyalty and dread. The Royalty Ball, the Dance, lights flashing, “I can’t Get No… People Are Str…In The White Room”. Girls from the older grades, looking like nothing I have ever seen before. I’m just dazzled. Even the girls from my grade have transformed into wonderful nuances of beauty –each in their own right. I understand for the first time that the adventure of Life has really begun – the music from the speakers stop suddenly. The girls gather in front of the stage. We hear it, the rhythm, the thumping, pounding, the curtains open –a live band! THE HAUNTED 1-2-5! My young friends and I have arrived.

We will never -be - the same again.