When I was a teenager I went to three different schools between ninth and Twelfth grade.
Sumter county grew too fast and had to restructure their schools, especially after desegregation.
I went to McLauren for grades seven and eight, Bates School for grade nine, Council Street for the tenth grade, and Sumter High for my junior and senior years. All of these were in the same town and just a few miles apart.
Since my time there, they have built two new high schools for grades nine through twelve. It's a lot more convenient now.
When I was a sophomore, I was involved with a group of friends that I spent time with inside and outside of school.
My best friend and I had an English class together and sat next to each other. It was the first period of the day, but we didn't mind at all because our teacher, Mr. Beazon, was very good looking. He was single, Italian, muscular, spoke with a New York accent, and had a sense of humor. Every single tenth grade female had a crush on Mr. Beazon (and probably most of the teachers, too).
Unfortunately for him, his name and phone number were printed in the phone book, so the poor guy ended up with dozens of silly girls calling him at all hours and asking about "homework".
My best friend Brenda called him once from our church telephone while I stood by giggling.
The poor man.
Well, my crush ended on the last day of school and so did some of my friendships.
The entire school was warned that during the week of final exams we were not allowed to wear shorts. We still had to keep up with a dress code. We could wear jeans of any kind or long pants, but we were not allowed to wear shorts! We were told that if we wore shorts we'd immediately be sent home and could not take our final exams.
My sassy group of friends decided that if the majority of kids wore shorts to school on the last day of exams, there was absolutely nothing the administration could do about it, and we would all get to take our finals.
So my friends and I made a pact that we would all wear shorts on the very last day of school.
The last day quickly approached and I pulled on my white short shorts. Off I went to school feeling confident and rather snarky.
But when I walked into school, I immediately gathered around my friends and noticed that I was the only one wearing shorts. I could have smacked each one of them in the head. Now I was stuck and had to do what I could to not get in trouble.
When I walked into Mr. Beazon's class first thing that morning, I was holding my English book down to cover my bare legs. I quickly sat down breathing a sigh of relief that he hadn't noticed my shorts, and opened my notes to begin studying.
Seconds later, I felt a presence by my side and looked up to see the beautiful Mr Beazon looking down at me with a frown.
"I see that you decided not to follow the rules today and wear shorts. Well I refuse to put my job on the line because of your shorts, so go to the office. You cannot take your final exam wearing shorts," he said.
Panicked, I asked him if I would be able to take my final if I had long pants on. He said yes, so I quickly got up and ran to the school office.
I called my mother and told her what had happened. That is when she informed me that my dad was not home and he had the family car. I thought I was going to cry. If I couldn't get pants then I was going to fail my classes and end up in summer school.
This was an absolute nightmare!
My mother told me she would do what she could and hung up the phone. I sat down on one of the chairs in the office and tried not to panic as time rolled by. We only had 90 minutes to take our test, and I was watching that time quickly go by.
About 30 minutes later, the doors opened to the office and in walked one of my mother's friends from church. Elaine had a bag walked up to me and handed it over. Then she left. Inside the bag I found a pair of her husband's khaki church pants. I pulled those hideous things on and went back to class holding them up around the waist. I had already rolled up the cuffs so the pant legs didn't drag the floor.
I looked ridiculous.
I marched into my English class with only an hour left to take my exam. I glared at Mr. Beazon when he handed over the test questions and sat down at my desk. Next to me, my friend Brenda was doing her best to control her laughter at the picture I made wearing those large trousers.
I rolled my eyes at her and then turn my attention to my exam. I wrote like the wind. Amazingly, I finished on time and walked out the door with my head up and nose in the air. I really hated to end my school year on a bad note with Mr. Beazon because he had been so complimentary of my writing skills. But as far as I was concerned, he was no longer "cool". He was a boring authoritarian like all the others.
I was pretty mad at my friends who did not wear shorts that day, too.
All these years later, I really don't remember most of them. But I will always remember Mr. Beazon, because even though I felt he let me down that day, he really didn't. I learned a lot in his class. I made an "A" and his last note to me on my report card was that he hoped I continued writing.
I guess I have.
