Growing up in Louisa – Graduation!
Weekly feature . . . by Mike Coburn
“May 26, 1960, a date that will live in infamy.” Well, maybe this Presidential quote from about the time we were born is not quite appropriate. It was, however, the magic date that our class had been looking forward to for twelve years. It was also a date that we were dreading at the same time. A few days, or perhaps hours, before we’d take that last, fateful walk we seniors knew very well it was coming toward us like a C&O freight train. We had already met with Superintendent Bill Cheek on a temporary outdoor stage erected at one end of the football field. Class sponsors had required us to practice our walk while Mr. Cheek even had us practice our handshake for the big event. Mr. Cheek was insistent that his graduates would know how to shake hands properly. We had to have a full, firm grip and good eye contact, to show our determination and sincerity. There would be no weak, sissified handshakes at graduation! This lesson would stay with us and be a help in our lives to follow.
The biggest deal with us was a haunting feeling that fate was about to drop a dark, heavy blanket over us and we would soon be falling into an abyss of the unknown. It was as if the globe was cracking open and the trench was sucking us into a giant vacuum. Up until now we had enjoyed the comfort of a regulated life and a cast of friends to lend support and advice. Now that comfort zone would soon disappear. Life would never be the same. As we fought a swelling of panic we were already feeling the loss security. We wanted desperately to hang on all we held dear, but we also knew it was not to be.
The band (without any of us seniors) practiced “Pomp and Circumstance” (http://www.miss-music.com/music/pomp_loop.mp3 ) while we fellow seniors were guided to form a long line in alphabetical order. It was explained that the diplomas would be stacked in that order so to insure we got the right one on that fateful night, we would have to be good little sheep and stay in order. It was explained that even if we were somehow given the wrong diploma we were not to let on, but to work out a trade after the program had ended. We were marched to the reserved section of outdoor seating of metal folding chairs that had been set up in advance of the ceremony. This was to be where we would spend our last hours as students. Then we were told to rise and file up the steps and across the stage, pausing only to look Bill Cheek in the eye and again firmly shake his hand.
We knew there would be some cheers and shouts of victory when it was over, but we also felt sadly that we may never see some of these classmates again. They had been our family, our true friends, and in some cases, sweethearts. Because of the tests, the competitions, and conflicts experienced in our schooling, we were already old hands at dealing with stress. Granted, much of that had been self-induced so we could only blame ourselves for not studying as we should have, or for taking unwise short-cuts. Now we faced the FINAL of all finals. We had accepted the role of being kids, but now we had to accept a new role in life as an adult. That was scary. We didn’t know if we were equipped and ready to survive on our own, or if we might fail ourselves, our families, and our friends. It was as if we were a small bird standing on the edge of a high branch, wondering if once launched we would soar, or if we would plummet to the earth.
Most of us understood that when we graduated we needed to do something toward earning our keep. Some ‘tough love’ parents were prepared to turn the new graduates out, while others set a ‘hard’ date for us to do something. For once I really envied those that had work on the family farm, or in the family business.
We loved our little town. Almost nobody was claiming that they couldn’t wait to leave this womb of community that had always embraced us and seen to our secure development. Now, the travail had begun. I knew that some of my classmates would go off to college. It might be easier, I supposed, for those who had been accepted in a college or university. They would at least know what they would be doing. Those alumni would have structure and with a somewhat regulated routine.
Others would try and find work in town, or in other nearby communities. Some knew they would continue to work the family farm, or had taken care to already find a job. A few would go off to Columbus, Detroit, or some other distant city in hopes of finding work. Another group would go into the military. This last choice was to be my defaulted lot. I had no money for college and didn’t really have the grades anyway. I had at first considered joining the Marines, but on the advice of a friend I reconsidered and elected to go into the Air Force.
I’ve heard every dark cloud has a silver lining, but during this time of joy and celebration, these clouds seemed to have dark edges that had become heavier each passing day of that spring. As the day grew nearer so increased our worry and trepidation. Yes, the spring flowers bloomed, but I saw ominous shadows lurking behind every bush, ready to reveal my fate. It was as if I had no control and my parents were also of little help. I know that even those who were destined to go to college wondered if they could keep up with their studies. After all, we all knew of several in classes before us that went off to school and lasted only a semester or two.
Others were to do fine, but even for them, life changed. That operational word was ‘change.’ We would be thrown into a new environment with people we’d never seen before. The foundational ideas we had about life would be replaced with new thoughts, new interests, and the erasing of all that had mattered on the blackboards of our lives. ‘One day at a time’ was the song we sang as we drifted into a new existence. In our hearts we knew that we were of good stock and our spirits were strong, so if we applied life’s lessons and stayed alert, we’d be fine. Well, maybe at least we’d survive.
The big day came. There was no school for us that day. We’d meet at the school in the evening, don the robes and mortar boards and ready ourselves for the processional to our seats. Because the day was ours, and keeping with the practice of having no plans and far too little thought for the future, I rose up early in the morning and went over to see my best friend, Johnnie Bill Boggs. I knew he was going off to college to become an engineer. I didn’t really even know what an engineer was, but knew they had to be good at math. That wasn’t me.
Johnny Bill and I decided to go fishing. We planned to get back in the afternoon to get ready for the evening’s event. We borrowed his dad’s car and rode up Route 23, to the bridge where Blaine Creek emptied into the Big Sandy River. We got out our tackle and followed a path that gave us good access to the stream. It was shallow there, so no big fish seemed to be hanging about, but we did spot a few fish of medium size so we tossed our lines into the water. The object wasn’t so much to catch fish as to go through the motions. Sometimes it’s a bother to actually catch something, but besides, we had some things to think about. After all, this was THE day.
After a while I stretched out on a big, flat rock to watch my line in case a really dumb fish would take the bait. It turned out they weren’t feeding or were smarter than us, because no strikes happened. That was okay with me. My eyes were growing heavy and I felt lethargic. I think that Johnnie Bill worked a little further upstream but I was steadily growing sleepier in the hot sun. I took off my shirt and dozed in the warmth, rolling over on my stomach. I think Johnnie Bill took a nap, too, but time can distort memories. In any case, once he woke me I immediately felt the pain. I was not usually susceptible to sunburn, but my good luck had run out. I was badly burned and looked much the same as a cooked lobster. My skin was bright red, steamy, and I knew I would soon blister.
Of course, that led to a pretty uncomfortable evening when I sat on that metal chair in my heavily starched shirt (a custom of the day) underneath a wool suit and a robe, mortar-board, and stole. I was obligated to listen to several speeches, presentations, and awards. I was once again trapped in a sad circumstance of my own making. It hurt to sit still and it really hurt to move. Suddenly the day I feared and should have been the most important time in my life was now more about getting through it. I wanted to take off the heavy robe and suit from my poor, seared body. It was a good thing that I was skinny, for I cannot imagine how much more it would hurt today with my more than ample amount of skin.
Serves me right, I’d say, but giving myself a little mercy I thought, what kid doesn’t over extend himself? The problem was that I was supposed to somehow magically become an adult that very day, but I knew that there was still plenty of childishness left to go around. (There still is) Perhaps I would finally learn something, but for that night I had to pay the price for my stupidity.
At last it was over! I ran all the way home, tore off my suit and put on some jeans. In a flash I was off again heading downtown to Dee’s Drive-in. I had high hopes of running into my classmates celebrating and having a final visit. Alas, it didn’t happen. Dee’s was busy for sure, but it was underclassmen now taking their place as the new ‘seniors.’ The change I knew was coming had arrived. I was now a ‘has-been,’ no longer one of the gang. There was nothing to do but go home, lie upon my bed and remember the good times. My eyes watered and I gave up a sigh. I went to sleep hurting from the sunburn, but smarting more from a feeling of loss.
I know this subject is a few weeks early for this year’s graduates, but I thought that if any of the millennial generation should stumble on this article they might remember to avoid the sun and shun those kinds of silly problems to be better able to deal with the emotions that surely will rise. Adults understand about those worries. We have had to face the scary unknown, too. The truth is, the future is unknown to all of us. The best we can hope to do is to use our brains and apply what we’ve learned along the way. You will almost certainly make mistakes, but you can overcome and learn the lessons they teach. Most people my age will tell you that life has been a worthwhile trip. We may have a few regrets, but we have also had our victories. I wish you an enjoyable and worthwhile trip.
Acknowledge your condition whatever it is and build a new life from the foundation that education has given you. Build memories and bond with others all along life’s way. By sharing, loving, helping and being helped, the stories of your voyage will be your legacy. I pray for you a level of comfort and peace that will calm and strengthen your resolve to march on with confidence. Purpose to make your trip through life worthwhile and full of shared memories.
