Chipley High School - Paw Prints Yearbook (Chipley, FL)

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Srs. 79—A True Story Once upon a time, more than a decade ago. the faraway land of Kate Smith Elementary School welcomed the tiny little people w ho have grown up to the Class of ’79. The parents were worried, the children were anxious, and their teachers were patient. They entered that bright land on that first day with pencils, crayons, new shoes, scrubbed faces, smiles and tears. That was the land of chicken pox. mumps, and measles, but they were sturdy tots and survived them all. They also lived through having “baby signs pinned on them, listening to “Chicken Fat in P.E.. watching boys break teachers’ arms, wondering what kind of films the girls were seeing when the boys couldn’t go. pulling chairs out from under each other, walking around with a friend under one poncho, taking turns at water fountains, going to school at the armory, being bragged on by the teacher and being hated by the other kids. They had paint fights in art class, ran laps outside and worked laps inside. They jumped rope in the freezing weather, got bus- left. and got in trouble for not delivering teach- ers’ notes home to parents. They were told to eat everything on their plates and soon learned how to stuff English peas into milk cartons when the teacher wasn’t looking. As they grew, a closeness was developing and the experiences they shared helped them to be- come themselves. Little did those children know that as they struggled along working, learning, and playing together-they were developing friendships which would be treasured for a long, long time. Finding themselves grown-up after the fifth grade, they moved into another world. Grades six through eight brought years which some would like to forget and others viewed as the best they had spent together. They were at Chiplcy Jr. High the first year. Chiplcy Middle School the second, and Roulhac Middle School the third. It was the same campus-the name was changed three times while they were there. They participated in science fairs, threw' each other over the baseball fence, gave a social stud- ies play, brought red pencils and staplers for Mrs. Weeks’ class, square danced, played “orga- nized sports, made their first F’s. watched test tubes explode in science, published an annual and newspaper, took typing with its “a-s-d-f- spacc-j-k-l-;-space”. voted on class favorites and watched them fence them in. As scared as rabbits, they braved their first days in another new world-Chipley High School. The freshman year seemed to be one of constant running as they followed each other to class. They tried to remember what they had been taught before as the teachers bombarded them with difficult high school assignments. They solved for “Y” for Mrs. “C”. made antho- logies in English I. learned the states and capitals for Mr. “B”. got a taste of FFA. tried to cook and sew for Mrs. Ard. struggled through science, and had a good time in P.E. They remembered the first pep rally when no one knew when to cheer. They remembered the first homccoming- the queens, the skit, and the float they were so proud of. They remembered how big the seniors looked and how much they wanted to be like them. That was the bicentennial year and they were being “conformed to the ways” of high school. In the tenth grade they heard teachers respond to misbehavior with phrases like. “1 could under- stand this behavior if you were still freshmen!”. They tried to grow up and begin to do things for themselves. Drivers’ Education helped them get drivers’ lisences and that opened up a whole new world to them the world of the road. They shared stories of the drivers’ exam, close calls on the highway, and dead dogs left behind. They also took Biology with its notes, scientific draw- ings, and lab days. They cut into all sorts of things while Mrs. Minchin looked on. Some grew faint, others held their noses, a few moaned and groaned. Some played marbles with the frogs’ eyes just to hear the girls squeal. They dis- covered how coordinated they were in Typing I and read Julius Caesar as Mrs. Green’s last class. That was the year of three overtimes in the Bo- nifay football game and a few treasured in- vitations to the prom in PC. Only a few dark moments clouded that year and a “crummy homecoming float was one of them. Anxious days were spent in the summer before their senior year. Though many were worried about what the future held, all were ready to come together as the Class of '79. On that late August day when friends began to arrive and greet each other with laughter and chatter, things were not so different from the first day twelve years before. Hanging in the air. however, was a feeling for anxiety ... excitement . . . almost fear. Time had begun to slip away and. although the moments would be enjoyable ones, they would be the last ones. Each person seemed to know that he would have to make each remain- ing moment together count. So. they entered with gusto into the- year’s work. A new concession stand made it easier to push hamburgers to pay for a great senior trip. “Winnie the Pooh provided just the right in- spiration for a spectacular winning float. They began to prepare for the future with more seri- ousness. Some took vocational courses, hoping to gain an employable skill. Others took more academic courses, hoping to gain that extra edge which is supposed to accompany CHS graduates to college. Sr. portraits. Chipola Day. Disney World, prom week-end. awards day. caps and gowns, the day the yearbooks came and gradu- ation would, of course, be recalled. But. other, less spectacular moments were to remain just as vivid. Insignificant pictures of everyone out front at lunch, SAT. ACT. and CLEP test days, spirit day outfits, the smoking area gang, couples in the hall, kids in line for tardy slips. “I Got Mine” stickers on everything, gangs of boys in the park- ing lot in the mornings. “Tutor-babies on the first day of tutoring, and voting in voting booths would be treasured as fleeting moments of pre- cious time spent together. As that year drew to a close, the frightened little people who had haltingly entered those kin- dergarten classrooms years ago had grown into adults. They had mastered so many things. They had gained so much confidence. They were ready for a new world. In the intervening years, many had left the group. John Mark Hollingshead. Ann Hen- derson. Susan Spivey, Rita Adams. Patsy Cagle. Donna Thomas. Sunny Day. Judy Ruane. Eric Porter. Lisa Tate. Tim Sorrells. Willie Sheffield. Susan Smith. Sandra K rouse. Terry Shephard and so many more had moved away. But. others whom fate brought to this little town and this little school were welcomed as they filled the empty spaces and made the group complete. As their final days together approached, they realized that the fairy talc was about to end. They were the heroes of their own story. They were the children who had grown and learned and now awaited a real world which was far from a make-believe land. They were taller, and stronger . . and smar- ter .. and. somehow, wiser. They had begun to see that Man cannot live by “Big Mac’s, pizza, potato chips, and Mr. Pibb alone. They won- dered what contributions they would make to the world. They wondered about whether they would choose the right college, the right lifetime mate, or the right career. They puzzled over what part the church might play in their futures. They pictured themselves as successes and wondered if the pictures were accurate. Could they cure disease? Could they be good parents? Could they succeed in business? Could they achieve world peace? So many questions, but only they held the answers. They were beautiful, grown-up fairy tale chil- dren moving out into a real world. They had the power to live happily ever after. 17