Jim Bishop: 1963 Was Rather Carefree – or So We Thought

Column by Jim Bishop

Was it only yesterday that resolute members of the high-school graduating class of 1963 corporately reached out trembling fingers and turned the page on the next exciting chapter of their lives?

Uh-oh, the page is blank. Now what?

This “C-average” student had miraculously graduated from high school, was working full time for my neighbor on his 12,000-layer poultry farm, tuned in 24 hours a day to Philadelphia radio station WIBG and gave passing attention to world events even as I devoured our daily paper, the Doylestown (Pa.) Intelligencer.

I was happy as a Cheshire cat eating catnip-coated briers. I had my own car (if one considers a one-cylinder, 12-horsepower, BMW Isetta 300 a legitimate vehicle), a girlfriend, good friends and free room and board, the eldest spoke in my close-knit family circle.

Problem was, I was uncertain what direction I wanted the rest of my life to go.

That was 45 years ago – yikes! – hardly possible.

Fast forward to the present. Again, I was happy as a program director of a top-rated music station, only the 45 rpm discs that I once spun on my RCA Victor record player were now suspended as decorations from the ceiling of the meeting place, and cardboard pictures of Elvis and model cars occupied space on the table where I was cranking out pounds of sound, hits to my pits.

The occasion: the 45-year reunion of the Harrisonburg High School class of 1963 held Aug. 23 at Spotswood Country Club. I was invited to be musicmeister for the evening’s gala and was glad to oblige. About 60 persons attended; 35 hailed from the 92-member graduating class.

All the music played over the course of the evening was from my personal collection, mostly from 1963, with occasional side trips to highlight some huge hits of the late 1950s.

I told the group prior just before they enjoyed a scrumptious buffet dinner that I felt an affinity to them because I graduated from high school the same year, only in southeastern Pennsylvania, several members of their class went through then Eastern Mennonite College with me and we graduated together in 1967, and another HHS class member, Paula Dinges See, who wasn’t present that evening, is my next-door neighbor. At one point, I played “Young Lovers” (1963) by Paul and Paula for her in absentia.

Looking back, 1963 was certainly a pivotal year, the last remnants of the age of innocence. Those of us wrapping up our high school education and making decisions for our futures were oblivious to what lay just ahead – a general societal upheaval fueled by the assassination of President John F. Kennedy, a confusing, controversial war brewing in Southeast Asia that would drag on indeterminately (does history repeat itself?), racial turmoil in major cities and growing disillusionment among our nation’s young adults (remember “don’t trust anyone over 30″?).

The music of 1963 that I featured was the last vestige of the “golden age” of American rock and roll. Small wonder that we were ripe for a “British invasion” when one considers that the biggest-selling song of the entire year was “”Sugar Shack” by Jimmy Gilmer and the Fireballs. Two other number one songs of that year were in French, (“Dominque” by The Singing Nun), and Japanese, “Sukiyaki” by Kyo Sakamoto.

Especially heartening to me was watching people mouth the words to various songs while sitting around tables visiting or out on the dance floor. I even had some requests – among them “South Street,” The Orlons; “Anything by The Platters” – I played “My Dream” – and “Graduation Day” by The Four Freshmen.

It was fun to hear the class sing its alma mater – most seemed to remember it – and the Blue Streaks’ fight song. Remarkably, the class has just three deceased members; a candle lighting tribute was held in their honor.

After program formalities, it was time to party like they did in 1963. The group, surprisingly enough, willingly did the “Hokey-Pokey” (even if that’s not what it’s all about), the “Bunny Hop,” the limbo (to Chubby Checker’s ’63 hit), the “Stroll” and the “Electric Slide” (to the Royal Teen’s “Short Shorts”). After that, many got out and boogied to another ’63 classic, “Louie Louie” (oh, no!).

It appeared to me that everyone at the reunion was enjoying the evening. One indicator: I was told to wrap things up at 11 p.m., and while The Spaniels’ “Goodnight, Sweetheart, It’s Time to Go” was playing, persons stood around laughing, seemingly not ready to turn out the lights and head for home. After all, who knows what all will happen, to class members and in the larger world, until their 50-year reunion in 2013?

Shakespeare declared many years ago, “We are such stuff as dreams are made on . . .” (The Tempest). May that dream remain alive and well for all members of the Harrisonburg High School class of 1963.

Related posts:

1. Jim Bishop: Learning the ropes of cooperative communication Column by Jim Bishop It seems obvious, yet so hard to implement. Many problems associated with the human condition, whether experienced in the workplace, at...