Fish Day when I was kissed by K. O. Rankin and made to carry several other boys’ books. Great fun;
The daily bus rides to and from school and singing “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow” to our crabby driver;
Receiving goose bumps from the “Silent Yell” during pep rallies;
The friendliness of everyone – even the most popular kids spoke to me (a nobody) in the hallways;
A big Thanksgiving Day game between PHS and our oldest rival, Northside. I had my mother drop me off at Farrington Field after dinner, by myself, as none of my girlfriends would go;
Receiving my first homecoming mum, only to have my cousin ruin it in his rush to get past me and down the aisle;
O. D. Wyatt giving me and a girl friend a ride home and stopping off at the building site of the new school on Forest Park Blvd;
Sock hops at the gym and doing the Poly Drag and Dirty Bop. After one dance, L. E. tried to get me to ride home with his friend Don Sewell. I said no, I was not allowed to go on car dates, we’d just take the bus. Lucky thing, too, as my Father, unbeknownst to me, was standing there. He’d come to pick us up! I’d been in deep trouble if I’d gotten in that car.
“Stardust” being played at the close of every school dance. It became “our song”. (Mine, anyway. L. E. ‘s choice was “Honey Love”).
Running out of gas in L. E.’s yellow Crosley and pushing it up the hill on Forest Park. (The gas gauge did not work and he’d try to go all week $1. He’s still pretty “frugal”.) Now I’m getting personal. Better quit.