During the last part of my senior year in high school, Cousin Bruce and his wife April lived with us. They’d been living in post housing, but then they both were discharged honorably and maybe they were waiting for one’s job contract in the civilian sector to end before they moved out of our area–it’s been too long for me to remember the details, but it doesn’t matter. It was a blast to have them living with us. Bruce is Uncle Gerald’s son (he has an older sister and a younger brother), the relatives on my mother’s side we were closest to while I was growing up. He’s a favorite of mine, and his wife April is a somewhat subtle but definite hoot to be around.
They had my bedroom while they were with us, and because my mother had turned the third bedroom of our house into a den, I opted to sleep on the couch in the living room–the least-used room in the house except when my parents were entertaining. So we were essentially in my “bedroom” when we took these photos one night shortly before I graduated. In the second photo below, I’ve just opened the Kodak camera kit Bruce and April gave me for graduation and as a thank-you for giving up my room to them. Everyone who’s ever been tormented by my passion for shooting photos–THESE are the two people you have to thank for starting my obsession.
You can tell by the crappy quality of this photo, taken with my mother’s camera set on the table, that somebody in that house needed a decent camera. I’ve taken as much of the yellow out of it as I can. That’s April between me and Mother, and behind us is Bruce–who’s really not wearing a lei but sitting behind a flower arrangement on the coffee table. You can also see the top of The Boyfriend’s head. I don’t know where Daddy was. At the end of the school year, I suspect he was at work.
Here I am holding my new camera. What I like about this photo is that in the corner, I can spot the five-piece, hot pink luggage set that was my graduation gift from my parents. THEY WANTED ME TO LEAVE!
Graduation Day
Some mornings when my father got up, he’d come to the living room, wake me up, and send me to get another hour or so of sleep in his bed while the kitchen got noisy (the living room couch where I was sleeping looked directly through the dining room into the kitchen, with no door to close in between. So this was a true gesture of kindness toward a teenager who wanted to sleep in). In this shot, my mother is waking me up in his bed. Don’t I look THRILLED?
I’m actually managing to smile as I advance to the breakfast phase. Only I didn’t want breakfast. I’m pouring milk. Only I don’t like milk. That’s why the Nestlé Quik chocolate mix is on the counter. What I love about this photo: They still had an electric percolator for coffee–those were the days before Mr. Coffee moved in. Also, that tiny iron skillet hanging on the cabinet for a decoration is really an ashtray. And I still have it.
I have now become fully awake and aware of the fact that this lunatic is shooting photos of me and I’M NOT WEARING MAKEUP. Go away! And that hairbrush in front of me…I still have it. That makes it older than–what I mean to say is, “I’m thirty-five!” I don’t use the brush anymore; it’s with the dog stuff because I use it on Guinness and any longer-haired dogs we foster.
Yeah, boy, these days are over. Not only is no one going to photograph me in a swimming suit and live to tell, but I don’t lie in the sun. I don’t read in the sun. And I’m sure all grass is chigger-laden. Oh, careless youth!
Excuse me! My nose is red from the sun, I’m STILL not wearing makeup, I’m dressed in an old shirt of my father’s, and I’m rolling my hair on a washcloth. Be gone!
The crazy woman’s napkin is on her plate because she’s STILL taking pictures and won’t sit down. My last dinner as a high school student, and it’s meat loaf. Blech. But I do love mashed potatoes and lima beans. I see a bowl of lemons on the table because we’re all addicted to iced tea. The saucer of white bread cracks me up. My father thought there always had to be bread on the table, so if there were no biscuits, no cornbread, no rolls, no garlic bread, then bring out the white bread. Also notable: everyone’s cigarettes and lighters on the counter behind me. I didn’t smoke, but we were talking the other night about how both my high schools had smoking areas for students who smoked. Times have changed, huh?
The boyfriend has arrived and is helping me remove scuff marks from my white patent-leather sandals. As I look at this photo, I’m trying not to fixate on that ashtray on the end table that’s ridiculously familiar to me after all these years. (No, I don’t still have that one.) Do not even ask me why white shoes were mandated for our graduation ceremony. Blame it on the times. I’m planning to wear those white shorts beneath my robe, but I’ve still got on pantyhose! Again, times have changed.
I include this one of me and the boyfriend not to mock his white belt, but because it’s one of the few photos I have of his orange bug. That VW took us to college–and back and forth for many weekends. I wish I had it now. I’m sure it’s still running. I’m holding my new camera!
Marching in. If I look like I’m about to cry, it’s because I’m about to cry.
That’s our principal handing me my diploma. But it’s my father who’s read my name from behind the podium. If he looks like he’s about to cry… Actually, I think he and Mr. B discussed switching places for that moment, but he was afraid it would make me cry.
Now a graduate, I’m walking out. And biting my lip to keep from laughing. I think I broke myself of that habit–someone else would have to say, because if I still do it, I’m not aware of it.
Friends, Romans, Countrymen, I come not to mock the white belt, but to praise it …
and lima beans … mmm,
Please thank Cousin Bruce and April for me…
I will.
Can you believe Tom doesn’t like lima beans? Yankee…
I luvs lima beans … or as they were known in my grandmother’s kitchen butterbeans.
I always call the all green ones (large or baby) limas, and the light brown and speckled ones butterbeans. I think they’re all the same, though.
i still find it shocking that he is a yankee …
Not ALL Yankees dislike lima beans! hrumph!
I know–Tim likes them, too! Being a Yankee is just what I blame for all the inexplicable things. That and the way Tom says “mulk” for “milk.”
Does he say peeeeeeeeeeeeeeenny in that painful to the ears way and PEEEEEEEEEEEEEEN … because that makes my ears bleed
I’m not sure what that sounds like, but if it’s anything dragged out, he doesn’t do it. His words aren’t clipped quite like a New Englander’s, but there’s no drawl.
Unlike with me, he says “pin” and “pen” differently.
And nobody at The Compound says “theater” in the ignorant-sounding way I do.
yes … thats it … PEN … where we say it correctly … it sounds like PEEEEN to me, and it hurts
“Not only is no one going to photograph me in a swimming suit and live to tell, but I don’t lie in the sun. I don’t read in the sun.”
And also hopefully, you don’t sit outside with your head wrapped in towel. My mother used to do this all the time and we called her the swami mommie.
Boy, I would love to go back and visit my h.s. graduation days.
I might still sit outside with my head in a towel, if my hair’s wet.
Lovely to see. We don’t have high school graduation here – only at uni.
My parents weren’t at my college graduation. It’s a good thing she got all those photos from that first diploma!
Dorothy must have felt a bad case of empty nest coming on to photograph all that. Good for us. Two minor questions: Is that Hunts? And are you sucking your thumb, little girl?
I’m sucking my thumb to be goofy for the photo. I have no memory of ever doing so as a kid. Considering the accompanying hair twist, I’m probably imitating Daniel and his Aunt Jerri.
It does appear to be Hunts. That would be unusual. Maybe we had blended condiments after the cousins moved in, and they were Hunts consumers? Or maybe Dorothy, ever frugal, let a sale break her down.
I loved this post, Becky! Great remembrances.
Thank you very much. =)
I love your pics and this great post. What a gift to have a photo recollection of that grand life achievement. Do you remember the bird on a string that was let loose during the graduation ceremony? Said bird kept dive-bombing the audience in the gym and Mark M. as he gave his valedictory address. I remember all the suppressed laughter (the easiest kind to get) and certain girls whispering to those of us laughing, “You’re ruining graduation. This is serious.” W____ Mayor Elwell went to his grave swearing I was responsible for the bird. Me? Really? Would I do that? What an accusation to live with for a lifetime! How might one procure a wild bird, tie a ten-foot long piece of string to its leg, hide it in one’s robe, and let it loose on an unsuspecting gym full of family and friends.
This and That: I can see Steve W. in the background while you’re being handed your diploma. I love meat loaf (done right) with mashed potatoes and lima beans — it is, in fact, one of my favorite comfort meals. Steve G.’s VW bug – I remember how that thing used to, when fully loaded, bog down to about 12 mph trying to pull the hills between Anniston and B’ham on I-20. I love the grumpy-look wake-up photo.
What great gifts to have, those old photos. I have my memories, but when the mind goes, you’ll still have the pictures. Thanks for sharing.
Thanks! Yes, I’ll have the photos, but I’ll probably look at them and say, “Who are these people?” Sometimes I do that now. =)
I don’t remember the bird at all. I can well believe I might have been one of the frowny “you’re ruining graduation” people. I hope I wasn’t, but it wouldn’t surprise me.
Of course, not that it matters to you, since YOU weren’t the guilty party.
Let me know when you’re coming for dinner!
I recently found your blog. The pictures of graduation brought back memories. Yes, I remember the bird. And the white shoes. As you mentioned, I also hope that I wasn’t one of the “frowny”people, but some things we block out.
Your Dad was a treasure to have as a teacher and a friend. I feel like my life was enriched by his being at WHS. It was rare to have someone who was not interested in teaching curriculum but also teaching life.
Hi, Lynn! Welcome, and thanks for the comment and your kind words about my father. I hope you’re doing well.
I wonder why I don’t remember that bird?!?