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Was
It Yesterday? Was it yesterday that we marched down HHS’s dim hallways...past legions of pictures of previous generations...past Bertha Grice’s cheery home economics rooms...past stern Mary Miller’s English class...past Eldon Payne’s office tucked behind glass cases stuffed with hard-earned trophies...past A. 0. Shewmaker’s torture den...or so, on occasion, it seemed...past the cramped library stuffed with unread books where Norma Castleberry held sway...and into a chilly study hail on winter mornings, converging on groaning, ineffective radiators for warmth? Was it yesterday that we noisily closed metal locker doors sheltering text books, spiral notebooks, and forbidden things before entering classrooms where Coach Payne held court in math...where Virginia Rector crammed tidbits of history into the resisting crevices of Gerry and Harry Lee and Carrol’s young minds...where Shewmaker struggled to teach Johnnie Patton and Sharon Johnson driving safety...where on a field exercise, our driving class met Keith Clements heading west on a tractor toward Whiteshield Creek bridge and tragedy...his young son and daughter in tow? Was it yesterday that fledging smokers fled restrooms after a quick puff or two...what were restrooms for...past gym doors vibrating with the thumps of a dozen basketballs pounding the hardwood floor...toward David Lamb’s typing class which flanked the auditorium where class play’s and graduation ceremonies were held...or to Lloyd Murdock’s waiting school bus for a field trip to a local farmer’s pens brimming with squealing pigs and bleating sheep...oh, those concerned looks...Eddie’s and Mahlon’s...fearing their numbers might be called to rob a young boar or lamb of its procreative abilities? Was it yesterday that we flocked to town on Saturday night, filling the back booths of the drugstore with laughter and horseplay...ordering lusty...er...frosty root beers and cherry cokes from the proprietor’s sexy young wife...or gathering near the magazine and comic book rack to quizz Warren Fritzmeyer about birthdays, automobiles and strangers’ names...that manchild whose novel gait was such a familiar sight along county highways and byways as he collected Coke, Pepsi and R. C. Cola bottles. Was it yesterday that we pounded on Mrs. Northcutt’s boarded windows, then fled like the young mischiefmakers we were...peered through cloudy window panes into Doc Dallas’s pharmacological clutter...shot a game of pool at Humpy’s...endured a burr haircut at Leo’s...gulped a greasy burger at Tom’s Cafe...and a few years later, drug Main Street from Spot Jackson’s station on the east to beyond Red Johnson’s Ford dealership on the west...near where the Hammon Advocate was printed. Leon, later of "Country Boy" fame, was the editor back then...he’s in Texas now...and was it yesterday that the flickering tube came to dominate Saturday night entertainment, depopulating busy Main Streets and darkening Washita Theater screens across the depth and breadth of America. Why did you leave us...Roy and Gene...Rod and Randolph...Gabby and Frog? Was it yesterday that we formed twosomes...Ronnie and Virginia, Larry and Nannie, Judy and Carrol, Gerry and Janice, Eddie Stalcup and the entire HHS female population...fleeting fancies; Richard and DeJauna, Sharon and Bill, Greg and Joyce, Bud and Carolyn...relationships that successfully navigated fifteen thousand tumultuous tomorrows? Was it yesterday that Freddie and Roy, Danny Joe and Franklin passed into our memories...victims of violence and ill-health...while others of us were blessed with children and grandchildren...our lives immeasurably enhanced...our immortality assured? Yes, it was yesterday that these collective experiences wiggled into the recesses of our minds...molded our character...shaped our destinies. Forty years later...today...we renew old friendships. Tomorrow, we trudge on, confronted by a conflicted world filled with laughter and dispair, friends and foes.., and family. Our journey will be shorter now, but our lives have been...and will continue to be... enriched by the voyage. We are blessed. HFW |