Lakeside High School 1963-1964

By Bob Walkotten

As I progressed through my decades of teaching, coaching and counseling, I remembered many successes and many failures on the part of myself, my colleagues. Many days we would drive home thinking that we should have done something differently to turn around a child, stop a fight, follow up with a conference with counselors, parents, or administrators. Those are learning experiences that help even the best of us.These are children. They are not plants. We just don't walk up to them with a watering can, give them a little water, and expect a well-behaved, motivated individual to grow and develop in that chair. They are human. Their intellectual levels are different. They may come from broken homes. They may be hungry and have all the other influences on their lives. We can't forget that. Yet as I pass two other high schools on the way to work, everything on the outside appears orderly. Students file through the doors and get to their classes. I wonder if these schools have the same knuckleheads, drug dealers, troublemakers that my school does--and I know that they do. I want to take you to a year in my teaching past that was particularly unique. Mind you, a vast majority of the students followed the rules, got to class on time, did their homework, etc. Most teachers also did the right things.But from time to time, the wrong mix of students and the wrong mix of teachers have educators questioning their career choice. There are students that economically have more than others. Drugs from one group to another is increasing. Drinking is rampant, and some teachers need to brush up on their professionalism. Parents too have found the need for improvement.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Dec 12, 2022
• ISBN: 9798886543100

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Lakeside High School 1963-1964

Bob Walkotten

Copyright © 2022 Bob Walkotten

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING

Conneaut Lake, PA

First originally published by Page Publishing 2022

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

ISBN 979-8-88654-305-6 (pbk)

ISBN 979-8-88654-310-0 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Introduction

Chapter 1

School Starts

Chapter 2

Tragedy

Chapter 3

Help Arrives

Chapter 4

Thanksgiving

Chapter 5

Winter Break

Chapter 6

Spring

Chapter 7

Trip to Milan

Epilogue

About the Author

Introduction

It took a little time for the post-World War II economy in America to switch back to a peacetime process. Automobile plants in Detroit had to switch from making B-27 bombers twenty-four hours a day, seven days per week, to producing cars and trucks.

Returning soldiers began to fill the working-class ranks. Factories went back to producing washing machines. Refrigerators were being built instead of ice boxes! The garment industry began to flourish. Televisions, radios, and record players were being perfected, and new housing developments had sprung up in open spaces.

With the birth of the baby boomer generation and the forty-hour workweek, the American landscape began to change. Leisure time and more money sparked a growth in spending and investment. For those who could afford it, a second home was now a possibility.

For others who didn't catch the economic growth train, the late '50s and early '60s brought disillusionment, discontent, and too much time. Some people followed Timothy Leary into the realm of drugs. Summers in the park in San Francisco began to lure more and more followers. They also wanted to turn on, tune in, and drop out.

Naked, free love advocates turned to marijuana and other drugs to protest the repressions of the '50s and the involvement of the Vietnam War. This phenomenon spread throughout the country.

This is the story of some of the events and people in an upwardly mobile, middle-class town of Lakeside in 1963.

Lakeside High School, like most high schools, was a three-story brick building built during the depression under FDR's WPA program. It had a student body with varying interests. The academics seeking a myriad of majors available to them, to ready themselves for college.

The artistic group, including the band, orchestra, and visual arts, the business education group, developing future typists, business education, and accounting majors. It also had focused students, non-focused students. There were students that performed at the low, middle, and upper levels. Upon the recommendation of the teachers, these students were placed into classes where they would find success. Students were given the opportunity of choice every day to do the work assigned or not to do the work. It was their choice. To follow the behavior rules of the school was also a choice. I would have to say that, for the most part, a vast majority of the students knew the system. They worked well within it.

There was also a group of students who came to school because they had to. Their choice was to test the system. Pulling a fire alarm, flipping another student's cafeteria tray were among their choices in school. They gave little forethought to consequences for their actions. To that extent, they were dangerous. Combine the lack of thought, human curiosity, and the invulnerability of youth and tragedies happen.

My name is Jim Owens. At first, I taught and then counseled assigned students at Lakeside at this time. With my memory and the help of a few flies on the wall feeding me information, I will share with you some of the characters and events at this school at the time.

Keep in mind that schools at that time did not have security camera or burglar alarms. There were no cell phones, iPhones, or computers. The use of a typewriter was the next step up from handwriting, and one used a nickel to call home from the pay phone in the hallways. Students carried their books to school, backpacks did not yet exist, and all the students who didn't have a ride walked to school.

Chapter 1

School Starts

The school year was about to begin at Lakeside High School. Waiting for the principal, Frank Caruso, in the main office was Linda Springer, town resident, former board of education member, and self-proclaimed watchdog over the school system. Dorothy Windslow, Frank's secretary, knew that there had to be a big concern for Springer just to show up at 7:00 a.m. without making an appointment.

Frank arrived a few minutes later with about ten things that he wanted to check on before school started. He gazed upon Linda, smiled, and said, Good morning, Linda. What can I do for you this morning? Linda popped up and bounced into his office ahead of him and shut the door as he walked by. Now Frank knew Linda. If he asked her to leave or come back later, she would stop off at the superintendent's office on the way to the local newspaper to panic the neighborhood about a concern. He knew that it was best to let her get whatever it was off of her chest. He also knew that he should not interrupt her. If this was going to be less than two hours, just let her go.

Linda stated, We came back from the Jersey Shore early. Do you know what is going on with our kids and their parents? Before Frank could say no, Linda continued. Al and I took Melissa (their daughter who had just graduated) to the shore before she had to begin college. (Frank also knew that neither Linda nor her husband drank alcohol.) Frank, did you know that we have at least six families in Chadstown alone that are drinking like crazy? Al and I walk by their homes every night, and they're on their porches, getting hammered. Melissa walks along the beach and finds our kids drinking. You know how I feel about drinking, Frank, but there is more. They're also smoking pot. It's illegal, Frank. If our kids are doing this every night down there, what do you think that they do in Lakeside?

What do you want me to do, Linda? Police the shore and Lakeside High School? asked Frank.

No, of course not, but it's starting. I told you last year about the drugs coming into the suburbs, and now they are here. Be ready, Frank, be ready. Now I have to lean on the superintendent of schools. I'll talk to you later. Linda got up and left, never giving Frank a chance to reply. He knew that Linda meant well, but she didn't know that teen pregnancy and drugs were key topics at the county, July and August superintendent's and principal's meetings.

These were concerns that had to be addressed, and soon. Frank walked out of his office to almost bump into Reed Cullen. Senior Reed Cullen came to school around lunchtime, in his father's plumbing and heating van, to run in to change his schedule. It only took a minute. As he left, he was stopped by Frank Caruso. The Cullens have been big supporters of the school through the athletic and band boosters. Working for your father in the summer, I see. Great, said Frank.

We need good plumbers. Say hello to your parents for me, Reed. Take care. Reed smiled and left in a hurry. He was helping his father put in a new furnace in Dr. Baker's office across town. He knew that his father was waiting.

After a brunch for the faculty in the cafeteria, the welcome back portion of the meeting started. Dr. Caruso started promptly at eleven o'clock, and soon it was noon. Caruso was finishing his annual philosophy of education speech coupled with his expectations for the year. An intelligent mentor and educator, he sometimes forgets the time element to his meetings. Other than a half-hour meeting with the faculty on the first Monday of every month, he uses the welcome back meeting to express his expectations for the year. It took a while.

He was now ready to introduce the new faculty members. Mary Lou Conti, a guidance counselor, transferring from the middle school. Phyllis Garcam, our new junior English teacher, and Chip Johnston, our new physical education teacher and assistant football coach. And lastly, our new ninth grade science teacher, Mrs. Janice Shapiro. Let's give them a big Lakeside High School welcome. There was an applause.

As the faculty applauded, Nurse Lorraine Ames leaned over to Eileen Kosten, her close friend and confidant, and whispered, pointing to Shapiro, That one is going to be trouble.

Kosten agreed. I believe that she'll be after Ken Harlon, the calculus teacher by Thanksgiving.

Ames disagreed. She'll go after Chip Johnston, the gym teacher. As they got up from their chairs to leave, each noticed the wedding ring worn by the new teachers.

They looked at each other and said, We'll see! simultaneously and left to go to their rooms.

Opening day found the students making their way up Maplewood Lane toward the high school, talking, greeting each other, and ready for the new year. For the friends who hadn't seen each other over the summer, they quickly found each other to share their experiences. Students entered the two largest doors of the school, searching for their lockers in the hallway or homerooms.

Some tried to get into the guidance office to see their counselor about an error on their schedule or try to switch a class so that they could be with a friend. Counselors quickly corrected errors but sent the other students away.

Outside of the school, walking students turned their heads when they heard a loud roar and saw a car speeding toward the senior parking lot, skidding to a stop beyond the driveway entrance.

All of this was observed by Vice Principal Bill Kelly as he was just getting out of his car in the faculty parking lot. Kelly bellowed, Petrilli, get into my office now! Jim Petrilli, seldom a student and more of a clown, was always up to something. He parked his car and walked to what has become his usual seat in the vice principal's office. Petrilli, you haven't had a class yet this year, and you already have three detentions for that parking lot exhibition. Christ, you could have hit one of those kids walking up to the school. Your senior parking privilege is suspended for a week. Take your car and park it two blocks away where the junior class parks. After five days, you can come in and see me about getting your senior parking permit—that is, unless you do another harebrained violation."

Petrilli left the office in a huff. He had to move his car. His friends, Dan, Joey, and Leon, were mocking and laughing at Jimmy as he left the school. See if you guys get a ride tomorrow, assholes, replied Jimmy.

Kelly reached over to say good morning to his secretary and sometimes assistant, Joann Fagan. She loved her job. She must have been a drill sergeant in a previous life. When Kelly was out of his office, patrolling the school, she quickly grabbed the power and walked out into the cafeteria to glare at any of the kids causing a problem or call them in to wait for the VP.

Kelly's office, next to the cafeteria, had a large window facing the students as they ate during lunch periods or study halls.

Fagan, beside her clerical attendance duties, cherished the power of supervision. It came natural to her, though only a secretary. Adjacent to Kelly's office, with a separate entrance door, was the faculty lunchroom. Teachers came here when not in their classrooms. This was the first day of classes. So many of the teachers came in early for coffee and a snack before going to their classrooms. The teachers sat usually in the same chair at the same table. One habit in the teacher's room, which started years ago, was the advent of the dirty tables.

Four or five tables were placed next to one another for a select group of teachers who found it necessary to crack jokes and unprofessionally talk about students or other teachers. I guess that it was their release from built-up anxiety as the school year progressed. The more professional older teachers sat further away at other tables, eating their lunch, marking papers, or just chatting. They were usually the department heads or newer teachers, not wanting to get involved with controversy. Shortly, however, as the year moved on, some of them moved to hear the dirt at the dirty tables.

The next day, Ken Harlon, who taught Advanced Placement Calculus was late for school. Dot Windslow, the principal's secretary, knew this because first period was about to begin, and she had not yet heard the squealing of Harlon's car tires as he sped around the Maplewood Lane corner. She called the math department chairman to cover Harlon's class until he arrived.

Vice Principal Kelly's office is located on the cafeteria side of the building, not near the main office. His usual ritual in the morning was to visit the principal up front for any actions