FRESHMAN YEAR:  After our short-lived reign as lordly eighth graders, we were well aware of our newly acquired plebian status.  Our registers were numbered by ’67 the magic year in which we were expected to emerge polished and pruned graduates. We couldn’t even find our register homerooms!  Once we arrived we were alphabetized into neat little rows and promptly saturated with Delaney cards.  Some of us were subjected to freshmen initiation.  Lipstick, shoe polish and whipped cream does come off. We were getting into the swing of things when on November 22, 1963 we joined the world in mourning our President, John F. Kennedy. The spring brought us a trip to the World’s Fair.

SOPHOMORE YEAR:  Sophomore means a wise fool, but looking back we only remember feeling foolish.  Geometry and world history attempted to give us something to think about and Shakespeare defeated them both.  November 22: Mr. Kirchmeyer led the purple and white across the newly completed Verrazzano Narrows Bridge to celebrate its opening.

JUNIOR YEAR:  We attempted to unravel the mysteries of trigonometry and chemistry in hopes of passing those notorious Regents.  The city elected a new mayor, John Lindsay.  The city as well as much of the Northeast was plunged into darkness for a night by a power failure.  With the month of March came the distribution of school rings.  Then came the gala event, the Junior Prom.  We knew then that we had taken the last step on the long road to seniorhood.

SENIOR YEAR:  There we stood on that September morning, at the top of the heap.  We were now the mighty seniors with lipstick in hand and college on our minds.  Winter came and with the snow came the SAT’s.  The blizzard of ’67 swept New York under 14” of snow and forced Tottenville High School to close its doors for two days.

The incoming of 1967 was somewhat saddened by the fatal fire which killed U.S. Apollo astronauts: Grissom, White and Chaffee. Once again reality had shocked our youthful ideals.  Yearbooks were distributed and senior dues were paid.  And so one day the class of ’67 left, just as quietly and serenely as we had entered.  But now we walked with a sense of confidence, accomplishment and anticipation.