I had a short conversation with my Honey recently, about old friends, and she surprised me somewhat. I won't go into the events that led up to the conversation, but it went something like this:
"Is there anyone among your old school friends or classmates that you would like to see again, or make contact with?" I asked.
At first, she thought I just meant from highschool, whereas I was actually thinking more about college. You see, she used to talk a lot about her former dorm- and room-mates, when we were first married. We even once went on a camping/fishing trip with her last room-mate and her husband, and I thought everyone had a good time. The event was never repeated, though. Too bad. She was a real cutie!
When she figured out what I was really asking, she answered: "No, I can't think of anyone, other than maybe T____," naming the aforementioned room-mate.
Strangely, even though that surprised me, I can relate to it. You see, I didn't develop many strong relationships in college. Partly, because I never lived on-campus, and thus never had the dorm-life experience. Partly, because I usually had a part- or full-time job that ate up most of the available non-study hours. Partly, because I was a very shy person, not having ever been part of any local social scene, and thus not having developed many social skills. The reasons for the latter are another, long, story, as is the process by which I grew out of it.
What was true in college, was even more true in highschool. If you have read my profile, and can do simple math, and care enough about it, you know that this year is the 40th anniversary of my graduation from highschool, even if I haven't mentioned it to you before. I even went to the reunion event staged by the more spirit-conscious members of my graduating class.
I've only gone to three of those events, in the entire time since 1967, but I learned something each time I did. Most often, it was something about my own view and attitude toward our joint history. The contrast between what I remember, and what goes into the "official history books" is sometimes quite remarkable. One thing that isn't surprising, though, is my social standing in the class. I was a nonentity then, and as far as most of my classmantes are concerned, I'm still a nonentity. Most, I said, but not all. There are a couple that I know remember me, and I hope those memories are fond.
Let me tell you a little about Samuel W. Wolfson High School in Duval County, Florida. I don't know all of the facts, but the ones I have, I'm very sure of.
In the mid-1960's, the Duval County School System was in trouble. Like a lot of other jurisdictions, they had continued to operate race-segregated schools long past the time when the courts had ordered such divisions dismantled. Also, like a lot of other jurisdictions then, and many even today, they had allowed the physical infrastructure of all of the schools to deteriorate badly. That is to say, things were just as bad in schools attended by white students as they were in those attended by black students!
The difference, in retrospect, was that the leaders of the local black community seemed to be more concerned about the quality of the educational experience their youth were getting, than were those in the white community. As a result of agitation by those black community leaders, the school system came under tight scrutiny by the Southern Association of Accredited Colleges and Secondary Schools. As a result of that scrutiny, the Duval County School System lost accreditation for all schools that they were, at that time, operating. The situation created a near-panic among highschool seniors who had expected to go on to college. Most colleges required that each entering freshman must have a diploma from an accredited school.
As this situation was developing, so were a number of high-end (for that time) residential subdivisions, particularly in the southeastern portion of the county. In order to serve the educational needs of the families that were expected to move into those subdivision, it was decided that new schools were to be built. One of those was to be Samuel W. Wolfson High School.
Now there were already several affluent residential areas east of the St. Johns River, and the loss of accreditation for the schools attended by students from those areas didn't sit well. As a brand-new school, Wolfson didn't have many of the failings observable in other schools administered by Duval County, so it was granted conditional ccreditation by the SAACSS, which made it a very desirable place to send your highschool-aged children. You can imagine the kind of political pressure that affluent parents can bring to bear on a school board, under the circumstances.
There was a problem, however. The courts had already had it up to the gills with discontinuous school districts designed to segregate not only black from white, but poor from rich, so the board couldn't just arbitarily designate "islands" of residences as part of a school district. There had to be some kind of geographic continuity. In creating that continuity, two existing high schools became junior high schools, and their upper classmen, along with students from the new affluent subdivisions, became the student body for Wolfson. The district looked something like a sausage, bent completely around an entire other highschool district (Englewood).
It was my good fortune, from the standpoint of getting a quality education, that my poor little economically-disadvantaged corner of the world happened to lay between two of the affluent areas that the school board wanted in the Wolfson district. Socially, however, it was a disaster for me. I really belonged at Englewood with the other hoodlums and white trash. You see, at 16 years of age, I was just as much of a bundle of raging hormones as any other teenaged male, and my main interest was not academic, but sexual education.
You can imagine the disadvantage I suffered. I was the eldest son of an itinerant construction worker, who had to support a wife and five other children. The family only had one car, and it wasn't normally to be risked by allowing the teenaged son to drive it on dates (hell, I wasn't allowed to get my driver's license until I was almost eighteen!), so how was I to compete, for the attention of my female classmates, with guys whose parents gave them cars to drive to school?!
Like I said, a disaster. Oh, it wasn't all bad. I did have dates with a few girls, who were probably hoping for more of a thrill than they actually got. I looked dangerous, anyway. Then, as now, that attracted some girls, but not many. I have to admit, though, that I was disappointed to have graduated high school as a virgin. Cliche time: had I known then what I know now, of course, that wouldn't have happened.
The only social success I can count from that time period, is that I met the girl who eventually became my wife. That's right, another cliche: I married my highschool sweetheart. It didn't happen right away, but it did eventually happen.
Neither her family, nor mine, thought it was a good idea. The funny thing is, both families thought she was too good for me. There were times, I think, when she agreed with them. We're still married, however, 36 years later. In my book, if in that kind of time you don't screw up badly enough to have it blow up in your face, you're doing something right. Don't mess with it.
On the academic side, there's no question that Wolfson helped me build a better life than that my father had. I was able to get into a college, and even though it took seven years to do it, I got my Bachelor's degree. A year later, I had a Master's degree, and a very well paying job.
I can't say I've had multiple careers, like some, but I can say that my career has morphed a lot over the years. I've done many jobs in my career, and the job I retired from was nothing like the one I started with in 1971, but both of those jobs and all of the ones in between were somehow related.
I got a lot of satisfaction from the work I did, but my greatest satisfaction came from the fact that I was able to provide well for my wife and children, and sometimes give a little help to members of my natal family. As a retiree, I no longer have the same income I had while employed, but I'm doing all right so far, and hopefully will continue to do so.
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