A Senior Momentby Eva Pasco Author of "Underlying Notes" 
The year
1969 is most memorable to me as my last year at Lincoln
Senior High, and the start of my freshman year at Rhode Island
College. Though I can now appreciate the
challenging spirit of the Sixties, you might
say it eluded me while living through the
decade. Sure, I'll never forget Apollo 11 with Neil
Armstrong's landing on the moon and his famous words: "One small
step for man, one giant leap for mankind." I also admit
to following the Chappaquidick chronicles which drowned any notion
Ted Kennedy might have had to run for president. I watched
Dustin Hoffman as Ratso in The Midnight Cowboy at the
movie theater with my first steady boyfriend.
Yet, Woodstock
happened without me. Then as now I doubt I'd forego showering
or washing and coiffing my hair. I did faithfully
write two cousins who served
in Vietnam, but remained neutral on the subject
of the war itself. The My Lai Massacre was a terrible
blight in American history that did not tragically affect
my family.
I was too
involved with amassing senior moments.
No, not the memory lapse kind, but twelfth grade
fluff. World current events of the sixties may be
somewhat hazy, but my senior class trip to New York
in May of '69 is vivid as though it occured
yesterday. The guys had to wear sport jackets and ties
and we girls wore dresses with hose.
I remember
waiting at the end of my driveway in the burbs dolled up in
my ruffled aqua and white polkadot shift.
Just as the squeaky schoolbus plodded down Angel
Rd., Gretchen, the neighbor's St. Bernard, bounded across
my yard. Jumping on me, she interpreted my
frantic gestures to push her away as an invitation to
roughhouse. She wrestled my arm with her teeth, drooling slime over
it. I had mere seconds to get myself presentable with a
tissue before boarding the bus.
Boy the
times they are a changin'! All of Mr. R's senior class
history students fit comfortably on a single Greyhound
with only one chaperone--Mr. R. We affectionately called him
"The Buddha" because he always sat crosslegged on a
table during lessons and his belly hung over his
trousers. When we
arrived in the big city, Mr. R kept the guys under close
supervision to make sure they didn't wander off to buy booze.
We gals had free rein to go wherever we pleased until boarding
time.
My girlfriends and
I were born to shop so strolled through the now
defunct Orbach's and other prestigious department
stores. Then we picked a Chinese restaurant in
Chinatown to have lunch and busied ourselves with buying
souvenirs. It never dawned on any of us to do something
stupid or crazy other than giggle and be loud.
Though I lament
not being more involved in the political rustling of the
sixties, I cherish the carefree times and
innocence retained in those senior
moments of 1969.
Copies of Underlying Notes by
Eva Pasco may be purchased here:
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.jpg "The 60s - Carl - 1968 - Vietnam")
