(August 2008)

A
former classmate of mine got my e-mail address from this column and we
started corresponding. We both graduated from the Western Junior High
School in 1968 (the last graduating class before the big fire). He
graciously sent me a copy of our graduation picture, you know, the ones
that are all rolled up? Thanks Dennis K.

I can't believe we were
ever that young – I also can't believe I shot the bird in the photo. We
thought were so old and mature, but we were really still children. I
got several lumps in my throat when I saw the faces of some friends who
are no longer with us, but after unearthing a slew of memories, I got
to thinking about how fashions have changed.

First of all, where
the hell did those clothes come from? Some of mine (at the time) came
from The Truc in Harvard Square as well as Robert Hall, Kresge's and JM
Fields. We were a big Anderson Little family. I still remember the
tailor with that little piece of white soap marking my inseam (that was
pretty creepy). I know for a fact that a few kid's shirts came from
Mickey Finn's in Davis Square and that my desert boots were purchased
at Thom McCann's.

A lot of us guys wore those beige suede bucks
with the pinkish rubber soul and heel. I actually have had a pair of
those throughout my entire life. The really cool dudes had black shiny
pointed black boots with a "Cuban heel." We called them fence climbers,
and they packed a mean kick – they were also known as Beatle Boots. The
O'Neil brothers had them. I think you had to go to some store in
Central Square to get those babies.

Some of us got taps put on
down at the cobbler. Remember putting dimes in penny loafers? I recall
having to beg my parents for almost every piece of cool clothing I got
– it was always the complete opposite of what they tried to stick me
with.

The hairstyles have really changed as well! Miss Charlton
had this up-sweep do that was kind of like a beehive. Maybe they called
it a bouffant? She was gorgeous. Too bad we were her very first class
ever – what an introduction to teaching – I'm amazed she didn't change
careers after that year. Miss Hagerty not only had the beehive "thang"
going on, but she drove a blue Mustang with a white convertible top –
she was probably the coolest teacher I ever had, plus she was nice to
us kids. She taught me all the French I know – oooh la la.

I
have to say that Mr. Perno, Mr. Lundy and Mr. Mackey were also great
teachers/administrators. Mr. Kelly left to help Robert F Kennedy's
presidential campaign. As we marched through the halls in an orderly
fashion we heard: "line over there, line over there." All the teachers
up the Western were decent to us kids – strict, but fair – thank you
all for some precious memories.

There were a few real knockouts
among the 9th grade girls – these young ladies were in an elite group I
called "the untouchables" – they were definitely out of my league.

The
girls wore a variety of hairstyles ranging from pageboys to those that
flipped at the shoulder. I don't know the correct name for that style
but they all looked great. The smell of Aquanet can still bring me
back. There were a lot of those headbands and barrettes in style in
1968. Some guys had the sideburn thing going on – I was jealous because
I hadn't reached that level of manhood yet – I was still shaving
nothing, hoping that something would grow, but I had to wait it out.
Remember that bit of advice? "If you keep shaving, it will eventually
grow." – well, it didn't work for me.

There were still a few
"Fonzie" haircuts (with the DA), but most of the boys had bangs of some
sort – a look (no doubt) that we can thank the "Fab Four" for. The in
thing seemed to have one eye covered by bangs. It was cool to have to
keep jerking your head in order to see properly. I had the hair jerk
move mastered. Long hair was on its way in, and I wanted to be Paul
McCartney.

Lots of double-breasted blue blazers with brass
buttons usually worn with a white turtleneck underneath were in vogue
in 1968. I call that the "Dave Clark Five" look and it was a good look
for some of us. There were a few plaid suit jackets in the mix also.

I
don't know if it was the era, but as I look at the 1968 graduating
class of the Western Junior High School, I see that there were a lot of
wise guys – we thought we were cool – and some were. I'm not entirely
sure I was one of the cool ones – I was definitely one of the
troublemakers, that's for sure – I got into trouble trying to make kids
laugh.

It's hard to imagine that it was forty years ago. I
always say the same thing when I realize how fast time has gone by – I
wish I had saved a lot more dough.

Styles changed over the next
three years when we hit the high school. The bell-bottom nudged its way
into the mix to do battle with pegged pants. Shoulder length hair grew
in popularity accompanied by dungarees. A cool look was a matching
dungaree jacket, perhaps with a peace sign patch ironed on someplace.
It was a "hippie" uniform.

I can't believe how many of my 1968
classmates remained in my life to some degree. Freddy Benoit married my
cousin (and friend) the former Carol Beninati. Charlie Vigneau, to this
day, is my best friend and my son's godfather. I got a nice e-mail from
Sharon Mahoney the other day. Ritchie Collins lives one street over and
we are very close pals and were band mates for the last 40 years off
and on. I am in touch e-mail wise with the other Richard Collins (from
North Street) and the former Dolly Stringos (give my love to Fluffy). I
see Dom and Pat Oppedisano all the time (say hi to your mom). Those two
have honestly not changed that much at all. I drive by Ronnie Bonnett's
house a lot, but I never see him. Alan F. is up in New Hampshire and we
just touched base again after over 20 years. I saw Rich Senesi in
Boston a few times. I bumped into Billy Wade at Doherty's. I used to
see John Mattson almost every day – hey Johnny, where the hell are ya?
Phil Lorenzo (Philly Poo) still lives two houses up from me and we are
true buds for life.

Styles may have changed, but true
friendships last forever. I hope all of my former classmates are happy
and healthy – I hope you are enjoying your children and grandchildren.
I couldn't end this column without naming a few of my friends that we
lost from that magical Western Junior High School class of 1968. Rest
in peace Dennis O'Neil, Gary Lameiras and Richard Salvo.