It’s not the quantity but the quality that flavors memories. We moved from Niles to the Farm in June 1948 and returned to the old neighborhood in October 1949. This short interval has granted me my fondest teenage memories. It was a time of acceptance, of being part of a peer group that has existed for more than a half century. It was the launching of a journey to the stars and my future.
For many, the eighth grade is merely the beginning of junior high school, a time of disconnection. For me, it was a time for self-integration, for learning I could become who I am rather than who others thought I was or should be.
It was my first exposure to arithmetic, grammar, science and history for eighth grade and English, algebra, ancient history and Latin for the ninth. I remember standing in line one day with classmates from my homeroom, under the charge of Miss Boncila, and, while waiting for something to begin, spoke with her about my future. I told her I liked languages, history and science and didn’t know what I should pursue. Back then, thoughts of future careers were implanted at an early age. She offered several possibilities for subjects I’d never really heard of, subjects such as “linguistics” or “history of science” or a combination of biology and chemistry which was being started in a few universities, something called “biological chemistry” or “biochemistry.” We weren’t sure how I could make a living doing any of them.
I was also exposed to activities far from what I would have considered the year before. It was agreed I could not sing, and piano playing really wasn’t my calling, either. But it would be good to be part of the band, perhaps the marching band. How about a “baritone?” This brass instrument was lighter to carry than a tuba and easier to learn how to play than either a trumpet or trombone. The school, recognizing beginners could be put-off by the cost of buying instruments, made it inexpensive to rent a baritone and take free lessons during music class. Practicing outside on the front porch of the farmhouse was beneficial for the entire family during the months I tried to become a member of the band. Fortunately, I had other talents that were less out of tune.
I could draw, and I liked to draw. I never took an art lesson, but I was asked to do the covers for the bi-weekly “Echo,” which was put out by the students as the mimeographed school bulletin. Mineral Ridge High School could never afford to produce a student newspaper. The curriculum did not offer courses in journalism. However, I had great fun drawing covers depicting a high-school quarterback, or a baseball pitcher. Mr. Yoakim coached the Rams, the football team. One Echo cover I drew had “Pappy Yokum,” Li’l Abner’s parent, leading a ram on a rope.
But the most important “event” during my junior-high days was merely being accepted, to have fun with others, to learn that a happy future would be possible.
I still have a deep interest in languages and the history of science and of ideas. My doctorate is in biochemistry. I am also invited to class reunions for those who actually graduated from Mineral Ridge High School in 1953, although I am an alumnus from Niles McKinley and not MRHS. I have the choice of being either a Ram or a Red Dragon. I can be Aries, a zodiac sign, or Draco, a constellation. Either way, I can continue my journey to the stars and beyond.