One could always tell when a boy had walked his girl to her class, since the tardy bell would ring and he was caught running down the hall. Couples wanted to be together as much as possible, and a girl considered herself lucky when her boyfriend of the moment carried her books!
On James Meredith's much publicized first day of class at Ole Miss, a group of adventuresome students drove from Northeast State in Monroe, LA to Oxford in hopes of witnessing that historic event. The situation was much more dangerous and explosive than we realized - federal troops had made barricades to prevent entering MS by car. We happily returned to Monroe, and watched the remaining news of the day on telelvision.
Finally, in 1961, I thought it possible to wear pants to school. It was difficult to detect that my new culottes purchased at The Standard in DeRidder, were actually pants and not a skirt. Mother agreed - the Principal did not. He announced over the intercom: "Joelle Smith, would you come to the office!" I had to go home and change clothes before being allowed to return to school.
Cheerleaders, pep squad members and female chaperones rode Beauregard Parish school buses to out-of-town football games. The driver was the only male allowed on the bus. The football games were enjoyable, but sharing food, songs and laughter while riding to the game and back home again were much more memorable.
I left Lonnie's School of Hair Design one afternoon during the summer of '58, and saw a man run out of a building across the street. Another man followed who shot man #1. Man #1 clutched his chest and fell in the middle of the street - just like in the movies. The street was soon filled with people including police. I hurried to the nearby safety of our family music store. Parents were very skeptical of the story, but soon read in the Beaumont Enterprise that a man named "Banjo Red" had been murdered on Crockett Street.
I wanted a two-piece swim suit long before the song, "Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Polka Dot Bikini" was popular. Mother was almost convinced that it was okay, until Daddy over-heard our most recent conversation. He sailed into my bedroom and said, "No daughter of mine will be allowed to parade around in public wearing nothing more than fancy underwear." End of story except for the crying.