Junior High
As many of you have deduced by now, my ramblings here are quite random. This one is no exception and goes back to 1970 or so when I was 12 years old and in school at Walter White Junior High. I have several memories about those two years, one of which involved a pretty 7th. grade teacher who all the boys thought was “neat” and “foxy,” and some fake vomit. Her name was Ms. Stapp; she was tall, had dark hair and was very nice to everyone. One day, Mark Lowe came to school with a flat rubber mass that looked just like vomitus. I mean, it looked REAL.
Mark dared me to play a joke on Ms. Stapp with the vomit. So, in the middle of the morning period in her classroom, he asked her for some “help” with his schoolwork. When she walked over to his desk, her back turned to me, I stood up, bent over, made a loud upchucking sound and slapped that faux vomit on the floor which sounded like something wet hitting the linoleum. Ms. Stapp quickly turned toward me, saw that I had just puked and quickly grabbed a wastebasket and brought it over to me. She was so concerned that I was sick and, at that moment, I suddenly wished that I hadn’t played this prank. I recall her saying, “Stanley, are you okay?” with great concern. Mark Lowe burst out laughing and I quickly admitted to the prank and picked up the “puke” which caused the boys to roar with laughter; however, the girls were more disgusted about it and sympathetic for Ms. Stapp. The stunt landed me in the Principal’s office and from then on, I could not look Ms. Stapp in the eye due to my shame.
In 1995, at the 20 year reunion of our high school graduation, Danny DeCamera told a story to a group of guys standing near the dance floor. I had to admit that I didn’t recall the incident until Danny was retelling it 25 years later. He said that when we were in the 7th. grade, he was approached by a big 8th. grader who was in a special education class. The kid told Danny, who was much smaller than him, that they were going to go out to the back of the school’s field and that Danny was going to [perform an oral act] on the kid. Danny panicked and took off running to find me to help him get out of this horrible predicament. He said he found me at my locker. He explained what was happening to which I immediately stated, “Where is he?”
We went off searching for the bully and found him in the main hallway. Danny said I walked up to the kid, I grabbed him by the front of his shirt and slammed him against lockers. I then put my face within inches of his and asked, “You see this little guy here?” and gestured toward Danny. The guy nodded and I said, “Well, if you EVER go near him again, I will find you and kill you! Understand?” Danny said the guy was shaking violently as he nodded he did. According to Danny, from that day forward, not only did the kid not speak a word to him, but if he saw Danny walking down the hallway toward him, he turned and went the other way.
I cannot help but think now of how those of us who were in junior high in 1970-1971 were so naïve. Maybe the kids who lived in Ceres were way behind the curve even at that time, but I don’t think so. Today’s 12 and 13 year olds are far more sophisticated and less innocent than we were, in my opinion. The guys I hung around with had no sexual experience and were very vague about how such things worked. We liked girls and wanted to kiss them and maybe even “feel them up” but that is about as far as it went. We liked to socialize with the opposite sex and had fun at school dances and flirting on the playground.
Mark Lowe had some cool parties at his house in high school: however, it was my parties in junior high that everyone anticipated and talked about. My Mom was very generous to allow a bunch of teenagers invade her home, but I think she really enjoyed it. I threw two parties each in the 7th and 8th grades. They were held in our backyard at 3816 Kay Street in Ceres. We lived in government housing since we were a “low income” family. Just outside the back door there was a rectangular slab of cement that was roughly 20X10 feet and the clothesline was strung the length of it.
We had a record player that Mom set up for us on the porch and several of the kids who came to the party brought their favorite records. My mother also liked music and owned albums by the Beatles, Herman’s Hermits, Simon and Garfunkel and the Byrds. She also had some Johnny Cash, Charley Pride and Willie Nelson, but these guys were not invited to my parties.
In order to help make our dancing pleasure more fun, Mom grated some old hand soap scraps onto the cement slab so the kids could easily slide our shoes as we danced to the music.
I think the song “Spirit in the Sky” by Norman Greenbaum was the most played record. “Venus” by Shocking Blue, “Green-Eyed Lady” by Sugarloaf, “Ma Belle Amie” by Tee Set and “Tears of a Clown” by Smokey Robinson and the Miracles were some of the favorites. Of course, “I’ll Be There” by the Jackson Five was the best slow dance song up until that time. It was replaced by “Chicago’s “Color My World” when we got to high school.
The dancing was fun but the highlight of these parties was the “make out” area. It was a dark place around the side of our house where the kids would sneak over to to kiss a little bit. As I said before, we were very naive so kissing was as far as it went. Sure, the boys talked about taking it a step farther, but as far as I know, no one in our circle of friends did. I have no clue what the girls thought or talked about. Since I am still friends with some of those girls, I may have to ask them sometime about their thought processes 42 years ago, in 1971.
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