When I was in sixth grade I was laying on my bed and thinking about the future. I thought of the coming year when I would enter Junior High School. I was particularly intrigued by the words HIGH SCHOOL To me that sounded so old and grown up. Several years before, Vera had the opportunity of going with our Aunt Nancy to Hillcrest High School. Whenever we drove by that school, it looked so “high” and I knew the students there must really be grown up. I thought farther into the future, and I knew High School was right around the corner. When I was in third grade, I could see from my school playground, Cottonwood High School, being built off in the distance. From then on I knew where I would be going to high school.
That time arrived all too soon as I left a little more of childhood behind and I stood on the steps of Cottonwood High School, ready to register for the 1977-1978 school year as an in-coming sophomore. I was ready to be one of those grown-up high school students.
My friend, Roger Lobrot, and I had been locker partners all through junior high. In high school we would have our own lockers but we wanted to be together in the same area so we went together to the registration. Roger’s mom took us in her car. We brought a long our gym clothes because Roger had mentioned that maybe we could get on the football team. The night before I had dreamed of playing on the football team. I had no idea how the game was even played or how many players were on a team. I just figured as many guys that wanted to play, lined up against the opponent and somehow they would all push and shove each other while one guy tried to run the ball down the field. Even though I had never even been to a football game, I knew that a lot of people turned out to see them. If I could be on the football team I would be immensely popular with the girls. I would work my way up until I could be the one carrying the ball. And then I would elude any players of the opposite team and run the ball for a touchdown, or whatever you called it, through any obstacle. I was planning to excel in a sport I knew nothing about.
But first we had to register. We found the hallway where the administrative offices were. There was a huge line. For the most part this was the day set aside for the registration of the sophomore class. When we graduated three years later, we would be the State of Utah’s largest graduating high school class at 742 students. So you can imagine that it was a lot of people to process in one day. Actually those who had been ninth graders the year before at both Bonneville and Eisenhower Junior High Schools were now to be combined at Cottonwood High School. We had been told by mail at what approximate time to come. Since Roger and I had last names that began with the letter “L” we were both at the same time. Still, we had to wait. Finally we made it to the front of the line. We had to fill out this and sign up for that. We got our locker assignments and also our schedules for classes in the fall. We even got to proofread our name, address, and phone number for the school directory, The Colt Communicator. This would prove to come in very handy, for calling up girls and asking for dates. And there was a photographer there who took our picture for the school yearbook even though it wasn’t due to come out for another nine months. What efficiency! By the time we got to the end of the administrative hall, we were out of tables to go to, so Roger and I prepared to leave. Throughout the administrative process we had been greeted by the student body officers. At the very end, the last one smiled at me and she said, “Well did you get all registered?” I was instantly in love with her. I knew by the special way she smiled at me that she was really saying, “You’re such a hunk of a man. I would really like to go steady with you!” (My thought was a typical reaction from an almost sixteen-year-old.)
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