In just two weeks, I’m going to join a few dozen old (quite old, now) friends in celebrating our 50th High School Class Reunion. It seems impossible that so much time has passed, but I have several reminder emails mentioning that number, so I guess it must be true.
The year was 1964. I wasn’t really supposed to graduate until the next year, but I had skipped 5th grade. At the time, being the only completely flat-chested girl in the 6th grade of Sacred Heart School in Lancaster, California, was not particularly comfortable. All the other girls were interested in boys, and I hadn’t gotten there yet. In a year or so, however, I grew up a bit and began to feel more a part of my peer group.
As it happened, 6th grade would be my last at Sacred Heart. My parents were travelers, and it was the peripatetic nature of my childhood that I cycled through sixteen schools in two countries in eleven years. First grade, 7th grade and 12th grade were spent in Nixon, Texas, my dad’s hometown. Around and between I was the beneficiary of some top notch Catholic schools, including a few years as a boarder at a convent in San Antonio – which had both intended and unintended consequences on my life.
Since fifty years is really quite a long time, and reviewing that era is rather an historical exercise, I thought it would be interesting to share a few of my memories and impressions here and in social media. So this is the first of a series of posts leading up to the big event.
1964 was a year of great change in our country and the world. Even in a small South Texas town, we weren’t completely insulated. The boys in our class faced the draft, and we all watched as history unfolded on television. And, of course, this was high school, so life in general seemed tinged with drama. Thus my reminiscences are certain to be both meaningful and banal.
On that note, let me begin with one of the most heralded events of 1964 at Nixon High School: the arrival of Bill Chessher’s Mustang. Bill’s family was one of the more affluent in town. Most of us didn’t have cars, let alone a new car. And the Ford Mustang was a brand new line, highly advertised and anticipated with great excitement.
We waited for that car for weeks and weeks. Interestingly, I don’t remember any envy. We, his classmates, were almost as delighted as Bill was himself. And when it finally rolled into town, it was a happening. The Mustang was black with red leather interior, with that distinctive low profile and long hood.
I remember Bill was very generous. I didn’t have a drivers license (wouldn’t for several years), but he ferried me around repeatedly, while I inhaled the new car smell. Over the next few weeks, most of us got a turn. It seems to me he even let my boyfriend drive, but I’m not sure if that’s accurate, or just imagination taking the place of old memories that elude me now.
What stands out as you think of your senior year in high school? I’d love for you to share your reminiscences here.