A Bubble Off Plumb

I guess we all remember our high school (or college) graduations with fond nostalgia. This week’s commencement at Geary and the announcement of plans for ceremonies at Watonga brought mine back loud and clear.

You see, it was long standing tradition for our seniors to graduate in the football stadium once the class sizes outgrew the gym. There were nearly 650 seniors in my graduating class, so the football stadium was a no-brainer.

But because I grew up in Florida, and graduation happened in June, heat was an issue. Graduation was held in the evening, under the lights where so many of our great memories were made. Back then, that high school was a football powerhouse, going to playoffs nearly every year.

But also, because it was Florida, and summer, the administration had to have a plan B in the event of a severe thunderstorm, which was a real possibility. The lightening there at that time of year is a law unto itself and there was always a contingency plan. Each student was allowed two admission tickets to use as he or she saw fit. Those with tickets got into the gym for the ceremony.

Some other fun facts that are now textbook on how things were done ‘back in the day’: Young ladies had to wear a dress or skirt under their gown. Every one of us complied, with a significant exception. Just that year, West Point had begun admitting female cadets and one of my classmates was one of those accepted. She explained to the administration that as a cadet, her uniform would be slacks and if it was acceptable at West Point, it was sufficient for our little town. They had to admit her point was well taken and allowed her to walk in slacks.

Some of the class members were chewing their nails right up until the opening strains of the processional sounded, because teachers, counselors and coaches would recalculate grades until the last minute, hoping to push a failing score into the passing column and achieving graduation for that student.

Because the Naval Air Station was nearby, there was never a shortage of speakers to make the commencement address. We could always get a top gun of one sort or another, if the lieutenant governor or U.S. senator was booked up. And after the fact we could go to the beach, where parents had rented small cottages or set up motor homes and we could stay up all night, safely, laughing and eating and carrying on until the sun came up and glinted off the salt water.

The point to all these memories – and those of everyone else with a different experience from Watonga’s traditions – is that those memories, no matter how or where they are made, will remain precious even a lot of years later.

Connie Burcham can be reached at Editor@WatongaRepublican.com