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Page 20 text:
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O' c-3 V ■w V £ o A M o ?» « t i- o $ %? f , ? $ i '% ? t, j’ 'i ? , jc .. i 0 ■s v 5 f y - « ? V nV Q° '0' ,H“'o1) c, 0 . ? -f V v «l V« ■ V,. v ? v? -S' 0 ■fV «? v V 2 C° f „0 £ V« f ? i 3: U» ■ P V V- • ' ? $ ■ Student Life f) § ? A f C7 N - $ Editor Sue Scharber The eight o'clock bell reached tanned ears that had heard summer come and go; for some it had slipped away too quickly, for others too slowly. The scurry of sweaty bodies clogged the stuffy halls. Sophomores, round-eyed with wonder, innocently asked directions to lost classrooms, while impatient juniors and seniors wore looks of superiority in vain attempts to hide revived enthusiasm. Time extinguished confusion, and the guy with the cool mustache and beard became the guy without the cool mustache and beard. Class transfers were somewhat finalized, books were tentatively covered, clubs were joined. RHS and its inhabitants slipped into their well-worn groove. With Fall came drama, new for some, old hat for others. Tryouts for the children's play. The Red Shoes, produced clusters of would-be actors earnestly reciting lines to other hopefuls or to brick walls that could offer neither praise nor criticism. The plot revolved around an obvious, modern theme of conforming to society's standards or facing the consequences. The children accepted this genuinely enough: they laughed when they thought laughter was called for, got antsy when they were bored, and didn't hesitate to ask mommy where the bathroom was when nature called. From the fascinated expressions on the kids' faces after meeting the characters, one would have thought that they had just seen Arlo Guthrie. Besides little people. The Red Shoes had a varied attendance of appreciative doting parents, RHSer's, and an occasional alumnus who, after the performance, nostalgically glanced about the familiar foyer in anticipation of the fast approaching Homecoming. Float construction commenced, and ideas relating to the slogan We're Robin' Richfield began to take the form of moneybags and gravestones. Guys, with their prospects narrowed down to one, finally got around to buying tickets for the dance, and their girls rushed to buy dresses or wildly whipped up Simplicity creations. By October 3, the rain puddles and leftover muck had just about disappeared, partially clearing the way for the purple and green float carrying Queen Sue Starleaf and her court. Parade crashers, including an interfering train and a number of uninvited cars, aggravated those who had to hurry to hair appointments, rip newspapers to confetti, or begin general preparation for the night's game. Dejected spirits over the loss to Richfield resulted in a crushed toe here and there at the dance, followed by mumbled obscenities. After letting loose with Faith and the Believers and arriving at their favorite night spot to eat, more often than not couples discovered with disgust that dancing privileges were denied because of the sale of liquor. Small frustrations grew as pressures from the outside world settled heavily upon the shoulders of the concerned .. . Moratorium Day, October 15, 1969. The typical RHS Polyanna outlook was temporarily smudged, and the apathetic student disposition stuck out like a sore thumb. Mourning displayed by black armbands was infrequent, but discussions and debates were held in Social classes, and murmurs pro and con about the war in Viet Nam could be heard throughout the day. Some students were excused with notes from home, or whatever, to attend the happenings downtown and on campus: marches, open panel discussions, and speeches presented by various prominent figures such as Julian Bond and Senator Mondale. It was a belated time for expression which stirred undying desires for peace, and left the nation anxiously awaiting President Nixon's strategic plan. 16—Student Life
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Page 21 text:
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Nixon's decision of gradual troop withdrawal wasn't much of a surprise; it didn't take a Jeanne Dixon to predict it. Occasional peace marches and silent Nixon supporters hung in-there, while the RHS majority, silertt or not, remained unified at least by fondness for the word, peace. J • The initiation of the draft lottery system brought the war a little closer to male RHS'ers. Who would have thought that one's birthdate written on a $fip of paper, crammed into a plastic capsule, and thrown in with 364 others, could possibly determine the span of one’s life? However, controlled existence is nothing new, especially not in high school. Students sometimes resented the administration's domineering hand of authority, stretching further than education. Detention for not carrying an I.D. card at all times, or for not conforming to the established mode of dress, had little to do with betterment of the soul, much less the gaining of credits for graduation. Leniency on the part of the administration concerning the dress code did seem to reduce the relevancy of outward appearances on character judgment, until students were habitually reminded to tuck in shirttails, lengthen skirts, or get haircuts. The lack of communication touched not only school life, but home life as well . . . Dad looks up from his Esquire and downs his after-dinner drink, before informing Junior that he is grounded for smoking . . . Escape. Kids sought people and places to identify with. Relationships, sharing, solitude, music, art, poetry; all were mental withdrawals from uptight situations. For some, the world could be seen from an entirely different point of view. A rising percentage of students experimented with drugs, causing concern among friends, and the older generation. An auditorium pertaining to drug abuse was held, and surveys were taken in social classes. But the truth as to the extent of harm drugs could cause was undetermined. Not all kids blew their Friday nights on pot, natch. If one didn't have to serve as a member of the working class, the night could be spent at Alice's Restaurant, Easy Rider, or with Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. But there were those who stayed within the protective arms of high school life, whose entertainment generally consisted of ball games and slumber parties. That is, if one wasn't grounded because of grades, or if there wasn't a research paper to write. Try-outs for David and Lisa, supplied a temporary break in constant exasperations. The performances were a success, portraying two emotionally-disturbed young people who eventually overcame their hang- ups together. Added effects'of background music, and slide projections coinciding with the events of the play, were firsts in local high school drama. No sooner had the departing stampede of David and Lisa's satisfied audiences subsided than try-outs for Hello Dolly began. Students interested in theater auditioned vocal chords and acting abilities, anxious to be part of fhe most publicized dramatic production of the year. Bunkie, Boogie and other weird buttons pinning down musical members, plus a parade ramp constructed in the auditorium, were visual evidence that musical preparations were well on their way. Then, winter break: the best tension-reliever of them all. Two short, school-free weeks were congested with religious observances, parties, skiing, boredom, and sleep. Recovery from Auld Lang Syne was cut short by the inevitable return to school, and the second semester. If the action was too tough to hack, one could always Get Plowed. Student consumption of alcoholic beverages was still frowned upon, but with a slight push, the slogan, Get Plowed, It's Sno-Week, miraculously passed censorship. Morning pepfests, flower sales, sweater and hat days, were topped off with the crowning of Sno-Royalty, Pat Beyer and Steve Kranz. The booking of the Youngsters encouraged attendance at the Sno-Dance, leaving only three weeks for girls to get up enough nerve to ask some dude to Winter Formal. As money slipped away on tickets, formats, and boutonnieres, girls realized the hassle guys go through for a good time. Despite the option for involvement in activities, RHS couldn't evade the winter slump. Mother Nature didn't blow up a school-closing blizzard, but on Feb. 3, she dropped the temperature low enough to break a water main. That unscheduled break was . . . well, no one complained about it. Bits of relaxation were of more value as it became increasingly difficult to discipline oneself to the life of the student. In just Spring, tantalizing thoughts of summer fed impatience for the three-month liberty. Winter clothes were put in mothballs, grass got greener, and X'd off calendar days led to a big red circle around June 5th. Finals were dreaded, then completed; graduation anticipated, then past. . . . But we all knew RHS as an experience. Whether good or bad was purely a personal judgment, but nevertheless it was an experience. We came slightly knowledgeable. We left slightly more knowledgeable. We must wait for wisdom. Student Life-17
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