School Spirit

School Spirit


The Moody Blues.  Chicago.  Simon and Garfunkel.  One after another, songs out of our shared past poured from the overhead speakers in the old gymnasium, sparking memories of simpler days and school spirit nights.  Emerson High had ruled the roost back then.  Baseball, football, basketball--no one could stop us.  We'd been District Champs in at least one of them each of my four years as a Warrior, and State Champs in football twice.  This at least partially explained the overwhelming response to the invitations sent out by the Class Reunion Committee.

They'd been blindsided by the flood of "You bet I'll be there!" RSVPs and had been forced to ask the school's permission to use the gym.  The committee had been unwilling to change the planned theme one iota, and there were too many confirmed alumni and guests to fit anyplace else in town, if all the displays and a sufficiently large dance area were taken into account. It was fortunate that most of the alumni still had family in the area, or hotel space could have become a problem.

As I observed my fellow alumni, though, the change of venue didn't seem to bother them at all.  In fact, it just seemed natural to again be surrounded by so many streamers and pennants of crimson and white, that you couldn't tell whether the walls needed a new coat of varnish or not.  The intervening thirty-five years fell away and, if I closed my eyes, it was easy to imagine I was in the middle of a Warrior Sock Hop or Homecoming celebration.  The only thing missing was the Pep Squad leading the crowd in a--

"Gimme an E!  Gimme an M!..." rang out from the stage, and I smiled.  High school really had been the best.


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