EHS CLASS OF ‘69 HAD ITS DREAMS

I received a great honor in 2014 when I was asked to be the guest speaker at the

45th reunion of the EHS class of 1969. The following includes excerpts from that speech…

A few weeks ago I watched a school bus roll by. “OH ME!” I thought, “Where are my books? Where’s my pencil box?” To borrow words from Neil Diamond, “September mornings always make me feel that way…”

Late August, 1968. I stood at the door of home room 409 to welcome you and to begin your journey through English IV.

How many remember my usual greeting? “OK, You Clowns! Cool it! ‘Sounds like a ZOO in here!”

I prodded you through BEOWULF and had you construct a mead hall. Remember who wrote BEOWULF? Ha! Gotcha’ again! I pushed you through Chaucer’s CANTERBURY TALES. The only one that interested you was the sex-hungry “Wife of Bath.” I made you memorize the prologue in olde English and you growled in disgust.

The first book report caught you by surprise. Unknown to you, I’d read all books on my list and had made out individual detailed tests. Woe to those who thumbed through Cliff’s notes and comic books. Sixty percent failed that first one. You decried unfairness and deception but never again did you fail to read your book!

You hated my many writing assignments. We entered the Elizabethan Period. To introduce MACBETH, I climbed atop my desk (remember that?) to act out the witches scene. THAT got your attention!

Homecoming. I asked everyone in home room who had a date to raise his hand. Those who didn’t were asked to meet me in the south parking lot after school where I would hold a drawing. Would you believe a few desperate souls showed up??

Too soon, it was your final semester. The Lake Poets. More creative writing. More memorization. Shaw’s PYGMALION. Late April I tried to stop you from dangling your participles and teach you the difference between gerunds and infinitives. Wrong time of the year! Your thoughts were on love and springtime and “The Age of Aquarius.” I looked out at a sea of blank faces. Oh, the wheels were turning (I could hear them squeaking) but the hamsters were definitely DEAD.

Senior Follies—Showtime!! Prom. Graduation. The All Night Party. You walked away ready to tackle the world. YOUR TEACHERS: Ms. Cox had a habit of throwing chalk, erasers and other air-born objects at the purveyor of wrong answers or misbehavior.

Could Mrs. Reed’s or Mrs. Williams’ hair get any higher? Small rodents could nest and breed inside that mass of teasing. Mr. Smith’s hair spray?

Mrs. Rascoe exited her car one morning, threw her keys on the ground and put her lighted cigarette inside her purse! YOUR DREAMS: Based on our MACBETH study, I asked you to develop a topic sentence that explained your personal dream/ambition. I kept some of those papers and gleaned the following:

Cynthia Scott’s ambition was to become a music star. She’s traveled the world as a Ray Charles “Ray-ette.” Today, she sings on Broadway and has written her own one-woman show. Bill Booker (who would bet on a turnip going bad) hoped to someday “Put ‘em away in Vegas.” He’s puttin’ ‘em away alright, but as President of Roller Funeral Homes–largest chain in Arkansas.

Bill Hall hoped to become the next great mystery writer. Check out his second book, “FABLE LAND,” on Amazon.com.

Have you spotted your old high school “honey” yet? Is he/she as heart-pumping as ever? Or, like Garth Brooks, are you thankful for unanswered prayers?

I wish I knew which of you left that poster on my door during finals. I still have it in my attic. It reads: “S’Miles Room 409 Back-pattin,’Hugs, Encouragin’ Funny, Fond of match-makin’ Some teachin’ Done Cheep” Unfortunately, life on this planet is not always to our liking. That’s why we should hold on to old friends…old places…old memories that take us back to prettier times. Hold true to your beliefs–in God, your ideals and your fellow travelers. Life’s a gift and never take one single day for granted. Let your sweet yesterdays lead you to brighter tomorrows. S’Miles loves you!

Memories…scattered pictures of the smiles we left behind Smiles we gave to one another For the way we were. Can it be that it was all so simple then? Or has time re-written every line? If we had the chance to do it all again, Tell me, would we? Could we? Memories may be beautiful and yet, What’s too painful to remember, We simply choose to forget. So it’s the laughter We will remember Whenever we remember The way we were. –Barbra Streisand

Brenda Miles is an award winning columnist and the author of two books. She lives in Hot Springs Village and welcomes your comments at brenstar@att.net