Doug Elwell Class of 1963

"Of Fiddlers and Jackasses" I've been away from Oakland for many years, but not the idea of Oakland. It played a seminal role in my youth. A large part of it centered around life at OHS. The high school was more than a place. In many ways, it was the very heart of the community. The school was a community center. During the '50s, I remember alumni basketball games in the old gym, where occasionally a little basketball was played. I think it was called Senior Stunt Night where I saw John David Taber and his bride-to-be Vivian Montgomery on the stage in the Old Gym. If I remember correctly, John David did an Al Jolson impression singing "Mammy"on one knee, center stage. My mother once participated in a "stunt" of some sort where she was a passenger in the window of a cardboard bus bouncing along a road. There used to be square dances there, and the old gym would fill with lively dancers. After my father's dentist office burned, I believe in 1957 or '58, my parents weighed moving away and starting over, but the town stood behind them with a rally that filled the Old Gym. I think Gene Taber was one of the organizers. It was a surprise, and my parents were genuinely touched by the community's support. There was music and signs and a promenade around the gym as at a political convention. One sign held high read: The Yanks Are Coming. Of course, they stayed in Oakland. Today, all of this is quaint and a bit hazy due to the passage of time, but life in the '50s in Oakland meant being a member of a large family, and in very real ways, the school was the home the family lived in. At the end of the '50s, our junior high basketball games were played in the Old Gym, for my part very poorly. The two classrooms at the south end of the main floor were our junior high, and there lived MISS EVELAND. In the first years of the '60s, I became a participant in the life of OHS, rather than an occasional visitor. There were Halloween pageants. Again, it seemed the whole town showed up either in costume or merely to watch the judging and awarding of prizes for the various age groups. The Old Gym was our gathering place after football and basketball games at "sock

hops." Someone always showed up with a record player and a stack of the latest 45's and set them up where the old stage once stood. Most of the boys, full of teen angst, didn't venture onto the floor, sat on the wooden bleachers, talked and watched the girls, assessing. With a little coaxing, we would occasionally deign to step onto the floor when a slow dance was played. Except for Larry Armstrong. Larry had the good sense to get out there and boogie and have a good time. Most of the rest of us holding back secretly admired him for having the courage to be himself and have the good time that we took a pass on. During my time at OHS, I felt a part of a large family each time I walked down the main hall and looked at the rows of class pictures that used to hang there. I was a part of that lineage, and it had then and still does have meaning for me. I knew one day my class picture would hang there and I looked forward to that. Mrs. Pemberton, my neighbor across the street, was an OHS alum. When I was there, she was quite elderly, yet I felt connected to her. She was my dotty old aunt who lived across the street, and I took comfort in that. For those who don't know, she was the wife of Stanton Pemberton for whom Pemberton Hall at EIU is named. Future generations will not likely know about the Pembertons and their connection to OHS, and that's too bad. One of our family will be lost to history. But that was then, this is now. One of the principles of human existence is impermanence. I prefer to say you can't put your hand in the same Embarras twice. Nothing stays the same. Melissos, an ancient Greek philosopher, said hot things become cold and cold hot, hard things become soft and soft hard, living things die and life comes from what is not living; and all things become different, and what they are isn't what they were. That's us, we aren't what we once were and that's not a bad thing. Today, we find ourselves caught like a jackass between two bales of hay. On the one hand, there is the pain of losing the symbols of our past that represent the traditions we grew up in. On the other, is the knowledge that nothing is permanent. Which bale do we eat? Perhaps, unlike the jackass, we can look at this in a different way. The old building and what it represents occupies a large space in my heart and mind and I hold that close. But the world of MISS EVELAND and sock hops is gone, and I have to adapt to new realities that show up on my doorstep unexpectedly. Suddenly, everything has changed. Tevye, the father from "Fiddler On The Roof," said, "Every one of us is a fiddler on the roof, trying to scratch out a tune without falling and breaking our neck." Life is a balancing act, a difficult journey filled with challenges. I'm like the fiddler on the roof who is trying keep from falling while holding on to my traditions. It is tradition that helps Tevye keep his balance. But

the changing world in which he finds himself makes it almost impossible for him continue to do things according to the traditions he knows. Tevye eventually learned that traditions have to fit the realities of changing times. What I had "back in the day"worked for me, but how do I handle what's good for the "us"of today? Is the old building that holds the past meeting the needs and demands of our youth today? Probably not; it's time for new traditions. On this day of reunion, let's bask in the warmth of the old OHS and look forward to the possibilities the future offers. I'm going to try to have it both ways. I'm going to hang onto the old traditions that still help me keep my balance while I try not to fall and break my neck. I'm thankful that the old OHS was there when I needed it. It took me a long time to figure it out, but now when I look back to my memories of OHS and Oakland, they center me. They remind me of who I was and am. But I'm also looking forward to embracing new traditions that the world demands for the young who follow. We owe them that. The young men and women of Oakland will create their own traditions in a new OHS that will guide them just as mine did for me. Unlike the jackass, I'll take a bite from both bales of hay.

Submitted for the "OHS: 90 Years of Memories" event held May 12, 2012, to commemorate Oakland High School in Oakland, Illinois.