November 3, 2015
My Alma Mater
It can’t be! Say it isn’t so! Those were my thoughts when I opened the mail one day last month and found an invitation to my 50 year high school reunion. Unfortunately I will be over 6,000 miles away in Japan when the event is held next month, but I admit the invite has taken me on another type of trip, one down memory lane. I clearly remember the day I graduated from Ritenour High in St. Louis, Missouri with over 900 other seniors giddy with excitement and so full of hope and promise. My memory of my high school years is a happy one, but has been suppressed by the natural evolution of living my life far removed from those childhood days in Missouri. But as I think about the days of dial telephones, drive-in movie theatres, photo booths at Woolworths, S & H stamps, pink plastic rollers, car hops and American Bandstand, a warm and fuzzy feeling emerges.
I decide to dig out my 1965 high school year book to jog my memory. I begin to read the personal notes on the inside cover straining to put faces with the signatures. The remarks are so positive…… lots of innuendos and promises to stay in touch. I find my senior photo and barely recognize the thin, unlined face that stares back at me. I read the comment below the picture, “There is no wisdom greater than kindness.” I thumb through the rest of the senior pictures and more memories flood my conscience. I think back to how important these people had been to me, and the countless hours we spent together both in and out of school. Their friendships tested my values and helped mold me into the person I became. I went on to college with a few of them and remained friends for ten years or so after graduation. But for the most part, these people are mere ghosts of my past.
As I close my eyes I try to visualize what my typical school day was like. I imagine myself, donned in my Garland sweater and pleated skirt, climbing the stairs and entering through the massive doors at the front of the large brick building. I am carrying my neatly covered textbooks in my arms and head straight for my locker. The five minute warning bell sounds, and I quickly head to my first class of the day. I loved school in general, with maybe the exception of math. English with Mrs. McCord was my favorite. She was young, beautiful, and such a good teacher. I wanted to be just like her when I grew up and influence young people the way she did me. I am sure she never knew she was the impetus for my career as a teacher.
The details of the school day are vague, clouded by the high schools of my own teaching days. I do recall that girls had to wear dresses or skirts and boys slacks with nice shirts or sweaters. A group of rebellious young men showed up the day before graduation with no socks and were instructed by Principal Chapman to go home and return with socks before the end of the day or they would not be allowed to graduate. They all obediently did so; that was the extent of acting out on school grounds in 1965! Of course, there was a group of students who could be found just outside the main gate before and after school on any given day, smoking their cigarettes. The boys could usually be identified by their slightly longer hair and leather jackets. The girls didn’t look any different, but I guarantee you everyone knew who they were by their actions both in and out of school! Most students attended basketball or football games on the weekends. There were dances at the local YMCA which was conveniently located up the street from my home. On weekend nights when there was nothing else going on, we frequented the local Steak ‘n Shake or Big Boy Restaurant for burgers and shakes. Some of my friends had part time jobs, but our real job was being teenagers and focusing on school, family and church activities.
I am not so naïve to think that everyone led such an idyllic life, but good or bad that is how I remember mine!
“Dear Alma Mater, we render thanks to thee,
We never can repay our debts to thee,
Tho’ we afar may roam, and distant be our home,
We will remember thee, dear Ritenour High.Dear Alma Mater, when we must part from thee,
Sadly we leave thy gates, but we believe
The years we spent with thee will live in memory,
And guide us on our way, dear Ritenour High.”
Mary (Roberts) Schricker Gemberling
Mary, a former educator and Seniors Real Estate Specialist, is the author of three books, The West End Kid, Labor of Love; My Personal Journey through the world of Caregiving, and the soon to be released Hotel Blackhawk; A Century of Elegance.
Filed Under: History
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