Cheerleading, courting, and other stuff

I don’t know what it is, but for girls, becoming a Cheerleader in high school is about the greatest thing since sliced bread. Especially in a small town where football is the second greatest thing. I remember very well waiting with bated breath to hear who the new cheerleaders would be for the upcoming year. In Swainsboro as I recall, those who were selected would remain on the squad for life; at least as long as you remained in high school. If you didn’t become a snob, flaunting your fame, you would be revered, respected and admired by most every girl in the whole school. The only hope a girl had of becoming a cheerleader was if one of the squad graduated or moved away. They only filled the vacant spots which would definitely narrow your chances. I don’t remember how many years I tried out in front of the teachers who ran the cheerleading show, but I can tell you it was all of them.

Being the girlfriend of a popular football player was always a definite plus in your favor. At least we all thought so. The teachers who were judges would narrow the choices and submit them to the football team for final voting.

Back then, the cheerleaders passed down their heavy black and gold skirts to the newcomers which definitely was motivation for me to drop about three or four inches off my waistline in case by some mere act of kindness, God saw fit for me to be chosen. I think there was only one vacancy that year, and I was absolutely petrified that the one size 28” waist skirt would be too small. (Somehow, I managed to close that skirt. Maybe with the help of a very large safety pin.) I was chosen in my senior to be a cheerleader for SHS high school and cheered my heart out for a whole year not knowing squat about football. We bought our own gold wool sweater with the SHS emblem. Most of us would have a beau on the team who had earned a football jacket so we definitely were to be admired when we wore his jacket even if it was 100 degrees.

‘);

Dating in those days was sorta “to each his own” and after games some would head out to the Lighthouse or maybe Sams Drive In for burgers or cokes or both. Seems like I remember that behind the Lighthouse it was a little darker than in the front. But Sams did have a cool dance floor with jukeboxes for those who had rather shag than sit in the car in the dark behind the Lighthouse. I remember one year, there was a big hullabaloo about a car that strayed too far from the Lighthouse or Sams and unfortunately wound up in the City Pond. Fortunately, pride or dignity was the only thing hurt. Dr. Brown’s pond also had some mild activity during the cold winter days where we could hang out. I never did learn how to play poker. It was all in fun.

All in all, our generation was one to be revered. We weren’t bored, and as far as I know, none of us wound up in prison. Some went off to college and moved on up elsewhere. Some stayed right there and fulfilled their dreams. All in all, we turned out to be fine upstanding citizens and made our parents proud. Those were the good old days for my generation.

Hail to thee, dear lord Swainsboro High…with your black and gold.. Remember?

Comments can be made to LaRose at [email protected].