Appaloosa Horse Club Calendar, December 2008 -- Photo by Annie Love
Lily aka Easy Dream Design.
Lily has changed a lot in 18 years, but she's still pretty.
From the Monticola of 1965. I blew up the photo a bit and found myself sitting about four rows back, wearing my homemade green plaid wool jumper with a white blouse.
I was wearing the same jumper in several yearbook pictures because the photographer would come just three or four times a year to take yearbook group photos.
💙💚💛💜
I see from Facebook that the local Commencements for area high school seniors are happening.
Last night the seniors from Clark Fork received their diplomas.
Tomorrow night, SHS seniors will walk across the stage to receive theirs.
Fifty years ago today, the Sandpoint High Class of 1975 received their diplomas---not without fanfare.
Seems all the fans in the audience received their fair share of entertainment when a streaker raced across the stage.
I have to confess and, regretfully so, that I missed the show while surveying the audience up above in the gymnasium, attending to my teacherly duties of trying to figure out what jerk was being so rude yelling out stuff at what up to that evening had always been a dignified ceremony.
While my neck was rotating toward the upper level bleachers to the right, Mr. Streaker made his appearance.
Then, the yelling got really loud.
My husband reminded me this morning that he was also in the audience and paying attention to what was happening on the stage.
As a musician, he used a few technical terms to describe to me the obstacle that certain kinds of cymbals posed for the streaker.
Still, before I had time to turn my head to see what all the commotion on the stage was, the streaker had made his exit.
People forget a lot of history but I doubt that anyone in the gym that night will ever forget the streaker episode.
We were told that someone paid him $100 to perform.
This graduation week also reminds me of a time 60 years ago that we seniors from the Sandpoint High Class of 1965 walked across the stage at what is now the Sandpoint Middle School.
It was all very formal in those days (no streakers before 1975 or after).
I can now agree others assessments about graduation speakers I've heard over the years that I really have no idea who the important man was who spoke at our Commencement or what he told us.
I'm sure his speech made the adults happy.
It was years later that the faculty advisers finally decided that the valedictorian and salutatorians could be the main speakers.
It was on a Thursday, just like today, in 1965 that we attended our last day of classes. We would come to school the next day, but that was for graduation practice only.
To celebrate this monumental time in our lives, I hosted a slumber party at our farm on North Boyer Road.
I had hosted others during junior high and high school and attended a couple hosted by other classmates---namely Joanne Buhr (yes, Joanne, I did make it to one of yours), Judy Turnbull and Sherry Davis.
A few diehards among each of those night-long gatherings of teenage girls can still proudly remember that they never slept a drop at a slumber party.
Mischief, yes. Sleep, no.
Others among us did eventually nod off in their sleeping bags, but I do not remember any sweet dreams from any slumber party I ever attended.
I do remember, however, that the one I hosted to celebrate our high school graduation turned out to be a bit of a nightmare.
Oh, we had a fun time bedding down in our hay mow, which was almost empty from the winter hay bales.
We loaded up on junk food and probably ate every bite. Plus, I can say that the expired statute of limitations permits me to confess that there was a little drinking at that particular slumber party.
My mother thought it would be nice to offer the gallon jug, with only about two inches of red wine left, which she had received a few months before from my Aunt Mary Jane who had a fruit farm in the Tri-Cities.
The wine had probably been used for holiday dinners where each of us in the family was given permission to imbibe one glass of wine with our feast.
I don't remember if I even asked Mother before the senior slumber party about the wine, but she was more than happy to supply the spirits for our group of about a dozen or so.
With that in mind, one can imagine how many sips of wine hit the palates of all the guests.
I don't think everyone in the group sampled, so probably a few, including me, enjoyed extra sips.
It was a safe wine party. After all, we were in a hay mow and none of us would be driving.
So, we just ate and talked and giggled and sipped.
After some of the group eventually fell off to sleep, at the first light of day, a few of us set off for a dawn walk around the neighborhood. I think we may have even covered a couple of miles, walking and talking on the back roads.
Upon our return, it was time to think about the upcoming day of graduation practice. We had to get dressed, eat breakfast and catch the school bus to town.
I should have known better, especially with the timing. A dozen or so senior girls still had to prepare for school in our little farm house with JUST ONE BATHROOM.
As the hostess with the mostest, I held off using the bathroom while my guests did their duties, brushed their teeth and primped for the day ahead.
Big mistake.
Once we climbed aboard the bus and sat down, I realized, thanks to nature calling really loud, that I had not gone to the bathroom.
At the time, both the bladder and No. 2 were screaming for relief. A bouncy school bus and a friend in the seat next to me yacking away did not help.
Urgency began to scream inside my abdomen and lower extremities. REAL URGENCY.
So much so, that I had no idea what my friend was saying on the ride into town. Her lips were moving, but my ears were not functioning as the lower part of my body kept calling out the alarms.
I knew that bus would stop in town at the old junior high.
I could have gotten off and run to some kid's house asking to use the toilet, but then how was I going to get to town and to graduation practice on time?
So, I held it, and the minute the bus stopped at the junior high, I raced through the aisle, down the steps and then up the school steps to the second floor of the junior high where the lavatory was located.
Same place where I had removed my pocket girdles in the seventh grade.
Once again, I felt liberation of a totally different kind than that experienced while removing the girdle and the seamed nylons.
Life could now go on, and I would have just a few blocks to walk to make it in time for graduation practice at the high school.
Adrenalin after a long night of no sleep and a traumatic morning kept me going through the rehearsal where I was really proud to be marching alongside Kip Phelps. I'm not so sure he felt the same.
After practice, I went home and crashed.
As far as graduation itself, it went on without incident. We followed the rules of decorum, and when Pomp and Circumstance had drawn lots of tears, my friend Laura, her boy friend Lee and my friend Ray drove to Spokane to eat at a fine restaurant.
Turns out all the fine restaurants in Spokane were closed by the time we hit town, so we settled for a Denny's, having to navigate for our bites of pancakes and syrup cuz the table rocked back and forth like a boat on the ocean.
We thought we were SO sophisticated, going to Spokane. Ha! Ha!
I feel very confident that the rest of our class had a much better time at the Elks All-Night party.
Whatever the case, my high school graduation days had their memories. I sit here thinking about those days like they were just yesterday.
I wish!
Good luck to all the graduates in the Sandpoint High Class of 2025. Sixty years later, I'm still proud to be an alum of our local high school.
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