Figure 1 The Glasgow
High School Class of 1972 at their 10-year reunion at the home of Bettie
Biggers.
Fifty years ago, the GHS class of 1972
donned caps and gowns and were ceremoniously sent out into the world. Of
course, the same thing was happening in thousands of other cities, but I’m fairly
certain that none of those other graduates were quite like this group. In
support of my theory, let’s stand at 1972, and look back to 1922 for the fifty
years before this class, and also look at 2022 – the century that surrounds
this cohort.
1922 and 2022 are equally removed from the
high school graduation date of this group. As a member of the class, that
statement of fact is easy to get choked on. In 1922, World War I had just
ended. World War II would not begin for another nineteen years. In 1972, my
class viewed World War II as ancient history, but it had only been over for
twenty-seven years. We were more interested in the Vietnam War, as we hoped to
not be drafted to fight in it. Luckily that conflict ended in 1975, allowing
the male members of our class to escape being drafted by the skin of our teeth.
The class of 2022 hardly knows anything about the Vietnam War and the rift it
caused in our country. We lived, and continue to live, that rift.
1922 was lived to the music of the
roaring 20s. Rock and roll had not been invented, and neither had country
music. Though country music began to spring up a few years before we were born,
it was our generation that morphed country into rock, and that became the tail
that got our dog wagging. We were sandwiched between Woodstock (arguably the
beginning of the explosion of rock music) and The Last Waltz (arguably the end
of analog creative rock and roll of the 60s and 70s). Our taste in music was quenched
by a dizzying array of talented writers, performers, and producers. Their
products were served up to us mainly by AM radio, delivered to ancient monaural
radios in our cars and homes. In 1922 radios were still too big for
portability, and in 2022, no one even remembers AM radio, but we mid-century
kids lived by it. We caused the mighty WLS radio in Chicago to change to The
Big 89 and hire on-air talent like John “Records” Landecker, just to serve the
mid-continent the kind of cutting-edge rock music we demanded. Weather
conditions often combined with low quality antennae to make it hard to pick up
WLS, so we adopted the cutting- edge technology of 1970 – 8-track tape players
to supplant our appetite for music. We rocked, and so did the artists we
worshipped. WLS and John Landecker brought us to this religious fervor. We
worshiped at the altar of Pet Sounds and Led Zeppelin II.
Many of the artists that provided the
soundtrack of our youth appeared at Woodstock in 1969. The information about
this festival didn’t really make it to us until after the event. We were just a
bit too young to attend anyway. The Woodstock t-shirts started to appear in
Glasgow a couple of years later, but, fifty years later, they have never left.
Check through the t-shirt collection of a member of the class of 2022, and you
will likely find one. Also, if you rifle through the music collection on their
Spotify or Pandora accounts, you will find music by a lot of those artists who
first started singing to our class. Our music did not fade away, and it never
will. New music comes and goes, but our music (as well as our t-shirts)
remains. Go to a wedding or a bar mitzvah today and you will hear our music.
Sometimes kids today are listening to our music without even knowing it.
American Woman was not written and first recorded by Lenny Kravitz. Aerosmith
didn’t write Come Together. Landslide was around long before the Dixie Chicks.
Marilyn Manson cannot claim You’re So Vain, and Your Song isn’t Lady Gaga’s –
it is ours and Elton John’s. Will our Circle Remain Unbroken, as our music has?
In 1922 the most popular car sold was
the Ford Model T. That popularity remained unchallenged until we came along.
Our generation made the Volkswagen Beetle number one. It was affordable,
reliable, and marginally better than walking, but the radios worked great!
Still, it wasn’t a Beetle that we really wanted. Our car lust was reserved for
a Chevelle, Corvette, MG, Spitfire, Road Runner, Mustang, Olds 442, or a GTO.
The parking lot at GHS was not full of these machines because few of us had
cool enough parents to help us get one, but Wade Barton had a 1970 Chevelle SS,
and Craig Johnson had a 1966 GTO, and they were the coolest. In case you might
think that was just a 1972 thing, just check into any auto auction at the
prices people are paying to get one of these cars of our era. Just like our
music, today’s car market wants our cars too!
The class of 1972 was a lot more than
music and cars. The mid-century babies came along at an inflection point of our
country’s history. We wanted the Vietnam War ended. We wanted President Nixon
out. We wanted discrimination ended. We wanted equal rights for women, and we
became participants in all these movements. In Glasgow, we might not have
always understood all of these changes, but we were quick studies and learned
from outstanding teachers. We didn’t invent electricity or telephones, but our
contemporaries made them what they are today. Our cohort includes Steve Jobs,
Bill Gates, Bob Metcalfe, and Vinton Cerf. Together we built the internet, the
software that makes it work, and the devices we use to communicate and learn.
We are more than a list of people who were born in the middle of the 50s. Our
works will endure throughout the generations to come, and I expect our circle –
our bond with each other – will similarly endure.
A close bond isn’t something that
exists in every graduating high school class. We have each likely noticed this
in our children and their very loose bond to their class. We are different, and
that is one of the things that makes us special. Fifty years after our
graduation, we’ve learned that our lives didn’t pan out exactly as we expected,
and as depicted in Brian Wilson’s masterpiece – Pet Sounds. As the years roll by, our circle has shrunk by
a series of painful departures, each of which brought us sorrow. Still, it seems that our bond will remain. We
will mourn the passing of one of our own and then reform our circle by grasping
the hands that remain. So, here’s to the class of 1972. Have a great 50th
anniversary celebration. We’ve earned it! Let’s keep our circle unbroken – by and
by Lord, by and by.
Wouldn’t it be nice?
