EIGHTH GRADE REVISITED

I graduated from a small Catholic grammar school in the suburbs of Chicago. I had some great times there and I’ll touch on a few here. 

First off, the date, imagine a bunch of eighth grade boys being told our graduation date would be 6/9/69 (The girls rolled their eyes when they heard the juvenile boys in the class talking like juvenile boys about the date). I did not know the first thing about sex, but I heard from the more worldly boys that “69” had something to do with a sexual position and so, as I was told, 6/9/69 was really funny. 

During the graduation practices the nuns would walk us down the main street in town, York Road, from the school to the church. We were “short-timers” and probably a little hard to control as we counted down to our last day of school. Our march would take us by a large speed limit sign that the bigger kids in the class would take turns hitting as hard as they could to make a loud sound that caused Sister Jon Elda to jump, but never overreact. My suspicion was that she was hoping to catch the offender and didn’t want to scare him off.

I loved my years at this school and made many friends, some that I am still close to. I didn’t love the fact that I was third in line for the boys side of the procession. Third in line didn’t mean academic recognition, it meant there were only two boys in the class shorter than I was. My best friend Tim, who was right up there with me, used to tell everyone that he would be six feet tall before he graduated from high school- he turned out to be right. I ended my growth spurt around freshman or sophomore year of college at about 6’02”, but that was six years off for my little eighth grade self who hit 5’04” and tipped the scales at about 89 pounds on June 9th, 1969!

We were a tight knit group of about fifty graduates. We had a lot of parties throughout the year. I happened to win fifty free passes to the local roller skating rink and invited the whole class to a weeknight free skate- that might have been the highlight of the year for me- Big Man On Campus for one night, followed by a quick return to mediocrity the next day.

There were many other parties and they were all good. I would walk to them with Tim, and one or two other guys who lived nearby. The parties were usually held in the basements of the middle class houses most of my friends lived in. The parents would come down and check on us regularly but, somehow, the lights would get dim and the guys who really had girlfriends would slow dance and kiss their best girl. I went “steady” with two girls in eighth grade, but my relationships were in name only. I asked Marg (Margaret C.) to go steady first. We never kissed, I went to her house once. We went roller skating once and held hands. But the steady for us wasn’t what it was for Ray J. and Mary M., Mike L. and Sue B. or Tim O’M and Mary S. they were the kissers. Marg and I, like a lot of our friends, were in name only steady dates; just like Geri W. and I would be towards the end of the year. Getting back to the parties, I do recall playing “I heard it through the grapevine” by Marvin Gay, “Hey Jude” by The Beatles, “All along the Watchtower” by Jimi Hendrix and “Crimson & Clover” by Tommy James and the Shondells the most memorable 45rpm we played was the scandalous “Louie Louie” by the Kingsmen. I remember one party where it seemed that the parents must have been listening for it because before the second verse the dad had run downstairs, pulled the record from the player and turned the lights back up. That party ended shortly afterword.  

During the summer there was always at least one carnival. The summer after our eighth grade graduation there was a fun one at the shopping center a few blocks from my house. Mary R. and Mary M. (two of the prettiest girls in the school) came up there and somehow, I was waiting in line to squeeze onto a zipper ride with them. I thought I had died and gone to heaven. I would be in tight quarters with these two beauties. Mary M. was still “dating” Ray J., but Mary R. was available- Did I remember to brush my teeth?

I’d never been on The Zipper, a caged ride that sends your car up in the air, turns you upside down and leaves you in that position for awhile. What could go wrong? Did I mention I would be with the two prettiest girls in the class? 

 

 

I won’t say the zipper ride was the most embarrassing moment of my life to that point only because I had a lot of embarrassing moments, it was definitely up high on the list though. Our car, immediately, went upside down and stayed that way for each stop to off-load and on-load riders. Once it got going it was a wild ride and the girls were screaming their heads off. I had a chance to show them I was the strong, fearless guy I pictured myself as. I failed. I screamed along with them. We were all sure that death was imminent! At one point I began to pray out loud and urged them to do the same. Looking back I am impressed that, as an eighth grader my faith was that strong. At the time, when the ride came to a halt and we realized we had possibly overreacted, my strongest thoughts were that I had just passed up an opportunity that I would never see again. 

The summer after eighth grade also brought my first heavy drinking experiences, there were a lot that summer. NOTE: SEVERAL OF MY FRIENDS WERE BLESSED BY HAVING OLDER BROTHERS WHO BELIEVED THE DRINKING AGE LAW PLACED UNFAIR RESTRICTIONS ON EIGHTH GRADERS-who was I to argue?

The first was a sleepover at Gary G’s house. About four of us planned to sleep in the large backyard. Gary’s brother agreed to buy the “fine wine” of our choice and deliver it to us in the yard. I chose Boone’s Farm Strawberry. We all drank our fill and got very loud, as a group and individually. We got so loud that Gary’s brother, our supplier for that day, directed us to go on a long walk and stay away from the house until we could quiet down. We walked a couple of blocks to the local shopping center and had shopping cart races in the empty parking lot (It was about midnight). From there we went to the local pool, played on the tall swing sets, slides and other rides that have since been “outlawed” by our over vigilant society, you know, if only one child can be saved. We played until some adult yelled at us that he was calling the police- It was now about 1 am. As we loudly walked down the main drag in town we saw a police car approaching and hid in bushes, behind cars and anywhere we were able to. Our chosen spots must have been good because he drove right by. 

 

Another experience that summer came at The July 4th Fireworks display. That year it was held at a park that had a large hill (Actually a former garbage disposal hill covered with dirt). I was with three or four friends. The plan was to get some wine (This time my brother was the supplier- oddly enough it was the only brother who wasn’t old enough to buy alcohol yet), watch the fireworks at the park, and then head to a party at Dennis J’s house about three blocks from the park.

We each ordered a bottle of wine- I stuck with Boone’s Farm Strawberry- We drank our wine while we walked through the crowd with the bottles “cleverly” hidden in brown paper bags. Eventually we saw that people were paying closer attention to us. In our impaired state we could not determine if the scrutiny was due to our hidden wine bottles or obnoxious, drunken behavior. We did determine that it would be best to head to the party a little sooner than originally planned. 

At the party we drank a little more, maybe it was a lot more because my friend Danny threw up inside and outside of Denny’s house. After we cleaned up the mess we carried Danny home and left him on the front porch after ringing the doorbell. Danny’s mom brought him in and we ran to our houses to take her call if she tried to find out who had been with him. 

What are some memories you have from “Those thrilling days of yesteryear?” (Stolen from The Lone Ranger introduction).

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Thanks.