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I am obsessed with yearbooks. Ever since I was a little girl I would pore over my parents' yearbooks from Grand Junction High School in the early '40s. Seems like pretty pitiful entertainment for a 7-year-old but I was fascinated.
Fascinated in how beautiful they were, the clubs they were in, and the sports they played. Their friends, many still part of our lives and the names still so familiar. Many of these Tigers are still around and still getting together some 70 years later, now that's class spirit!
I have yearbooks, not only Ruby Barmore's and Louie Brown's but Grand Junction High School yearbooks dating back to the 1920s. I keep them and love to look at the old ads, the candid photos and the interior of the old high school, the same building where my mother and father attended Grand Junction High School, where I attended Grand Junction Junior High School, and where my children attended it as Columbine Elementary.
I have yet to find my grandfather Milo Brown in a yearbook but my grandson Milo Haberkorn will attend grade school at that same location, the new Chipeta Elementary. Then came my brother and sister's yearbooks. How I loved to look at those good looking upper classmates. They looked so mature, so sophisticated, all that and all under 18 years old. Boy did they have me fooled.
I got my own yearbooks in junior high filled with fresh faces and lots of Beatle bangs and corny sentiments about how fun I was and good luck with so and so this summer. The pages became dog-eared as I looked at the photos of a few guys I had crushes on. I was too shy to even let my best girlfriends know in case I was discovered.
When I finally got to high school, I was still looking at my mom and dad's yearbooks, so were my mom and dad. They had this story about that fellow and that story about that gal. I was still fascinated. But I had my own year books to add to the fantasy pool. I'd even gotten a hold of some Mesa Junior College yearbooks. Those guys from out of town were so damn cool and they had lots of hair and were very dangerous. Maybe they still are.
This weekend is my 40th Class Reunion. Go Tigers! Grand Junction High School's Class of 1971 had over 450 students. Only one-quarter of my classmates will attend the events and 1/10th of them have gone to that big gymnasium in the sky. We were a close bunch and still are. Central High School's Class of 1971 is having its reunion this weekend, too. Many students from across the valley inter-married and will have fun attending all the events. It's been 45 years since we were Junction Jaguars. Looking back at the yearbooks, we had baby faces. At least the boys did, and hopefully hearts full of innocence and hope.
This weekend I'll look into so many of those faces. I won't see the laugh lines or the receding hairlines or the crows' feet. I'll see those fresh, young faces and sparkling eyes full of joy and wonder. Joy from having lived this long and wondering … who in the hell are all these old people?
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Reach Prissy at 260-5226, or email priscilla.mangnall@gmail.com.
Fascinated in how beautiful they were, the clubs they were in, and the sports they played. Their friends, many still part of our lives and the names still so familiar. Many of these Tigers are still around and still getting together some 70 years later, now that's class spirit!
I have yearbooks, not only Ruby Barmore's and Louie Brown's but Grand Junction High School yearbooks dating back to the 1920s. I keep them and love to look at the old ads, the candid photos and the interior of the old high school, the same building where my mother and father attended Grand Junction High School, where I attended Grand Junction Junior High School, and where my children attended it as Columbine Elementary.
I have yet to find my grandfather Milo Brown in a yearbook but my grandson Milo Haberkorn will attend grade school at that same location, the new Chipeta Elementary. Then came my brother and sister's yearbooks. How I loved to look at those good looking upper classmates. They looked so mature, so sophisticated, all that and all under 18 years old. Boy did they have me fooled.
I got my own yearbooks in junior high filled with fresh faces and lots of Beatle bangs and corny sentiments about how fun I was and good luck with so and so this summer. The pages became dog-eared as I looked at the photos of a few guys I had crushes on. I was too shy to even let my best girlfriends know in case I was discovered.
When I finally got to high school, I was still looking at my mom and dad's yearbooks, so were my mom and dad. They had this story about that fellow and that story about that gal. I was still fascinated. But I had my own year books to add to the fantasy pool. I'd even gotten a hold of some Mesa Junior College yearbooks. Those guys from out of town were so damn cool and they had lots of hair and were very dangerous. Maybe they still are.
This weekend is my 40th Class Reunion. Go Tigers! Grand Junction High School's Class of 1971 had over 450 students. Only one-quarter of my classmates will attend the events and 1/10th of them have gone to that big gymnasium in the sky. We were a close bunch and still are. Central High School's Class of 1971 is having its reunion this weekend, too. Many students from across the valley inter-married and will have fun attending all the events. It's been 45 years since we were Junction Jaguars. Looking back at the yearbooks, we had baby faces. At least the boys did, and hopefully hearts full of innocence and hope.
This weekend I'll look into so many of those faces. I won't see the laugh lines or the receding hairlines or the crows' feet. I'll see those fresh, young faces and sparkling eyes full of joy and wonder. Joy from having lived this long and wondering … who in the hell are all these old people?
------------
Reach Prissy at 260-5226, or email priscilla.mangnall@gmail.com.
