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Actually, the official beginning of the "Class of '69" began on May 24, 1965 when 51 eighth graders walked across the stage at CHS and received their diplomas. We were Eight Miles High--in other words, High Schoolers. We just didn't know that the next four years we'd be on a Magic Carpet Ride.

Our dreams of going Up, Up, and Away in high school soon felt like A Hundred Pounds of Clay, especially on that last day of school in '65 as we were Homeward Bound. We quickly found out that Hitchin' A Ride would result in a trip Goin' Up the Country. The new seniors took us out to what seemed like 25 Miles and told us to Come Back When You Grow Up. But being the "class" class that we were, our reply was I'm Not Your Stepping Stone.

That first week of Freshman year we were on Needles and Pins when we realized that we'd be telling the seniors I'm Your Puppet. Polishing shoes, cleaning hubcaps with toothbrushes, carrying books and being late for class, and even saying I Want to Hold Your Hand to someone we couldn't stand was a new type of Working in the Coal Mine. But with A Little Bit O' Soul we made it through that week.

Freshman year become the year of firsts--first homecomings, first driver's ed., foreign languages, Christmas Dances, first football and basketball games. We were learning what it really meant to Be True  to Your School. And we had our first NEW PRINCIPAL to break in--Mr. Charles. Who can forget his booming voice shouting your name in the hall, turning your blood to crushed ice? Then sometimes feeling a grab at the back of your neck and hearing, "I Got You, Babe. Can't Take My Eyes Off of You, can I?" There was Nowhere To Run and our usual reaction was to immediately say I'm Sorry while we searched our brains for what we might have done wrong. But with Mr. C, we soon learned that whatever it was, We Can Work It Out.

By Sophomore year, we were Feelin' Groovy about high school. Although it was all becoming Kind of a Drag, by then we knew the Name Game and teachers and classes were easier. Biology class, of course, was sometimes a real Wooly Bully, but it was a 5 O'Clock World in it's own way, and at 3:35 (give us 5 minutes to get there) we could be found Downtown. That year, the pool opened In the for the first time, and all summer long we had Fun, Fun, Fun. From then on, we looked forward even more to Summertime.

Junior year, class rings, magazine sales, and the Prom. And there was still hitting the books and studying. And we were growing up, learning about When a Man Loves a Woman. Those Strangers in the Night could bring Good Vibrations, but You Can't Hurry Love. We learned that Breaking Up Is Hard To Do, and so often we were left in a World Without Love. We spent nearly every Saturday in the Park, and at night, some of us might be found somewhere Out in the Country. It was a time of believing that All You Need is Love. And that was proven by the stories of how "my baby does the Hanky Panky Down in the Boondocks" and what a Wild Thing some girl was. These were, however, followed by feminine voices crying Liar, Liar. All we wanted was a little R-E-S-P-E-C-T.

Senior year. We thought we were Born to Be Wild, but we were really just Everyday People. We told each other It Won't Be Long. There was still studying, sometimes into the wee hours for a Government test, and many mornings we told each other, "It's been a Hard Days Night." Cries of Help! could be heard quite often, especially near report card time when each of us was Goin' Outa My Head with worry. It was our last chance. There were so many things going on that year and we had so many lasts--last homecoming, last Christmas Dance, last football and basketball games, and last time to say goodbye and maybe even make up for some things we'd done wrong. All we could think of most of that year was We Gotta Get Outa This Place, But all too soon, This Magic Moment was upon us. It was graduation. Some of us would Cry Like a Baby, and there were Traces of at least 96 Tears. We were off on our separate ways. No more See You in September for us. But we were sure that Someday We'll Be Together.

So here we are. Do You Believe in Magic? It may still be that this is The Age of Aquarius, and many of us are turning gray or losing our Hair, but I Feel Fine. Tonight I can look around and see that we're here and that we're Happy Together. Some of us aren't here, but Wouldn't It Be Nice if we could ALL be here? And at those rare times when I'm In My Room, surrounded by The Sounds of Silence, wishing that I could be Sittin' on the Dock of the Bay, I'll look back to Yesterday, because I Cherish those times. Those Were the Days.