EPISODE 91 PUT YOUR WARM AND TENDER BODY NEXT TO MINE (school dance, Oc.t 1963
alan skeoch
August 9, 2020
Teen agers did dress up for dances but I do not remember suits and ties on the boys
Note: I have told this story many times but I think it is worth repeating
now…impact of social distancing has changed so much.
Setting: Parkdale Collegiate Institute, School Dance Oct. 1963
I was a new teacher at Parkdale Collegiate in 1963 which meant I was only a
few years older that the senior students. Taught for about 6 weeks. And that, I believe, was the heart of
the problem.
“Mr. Skeoch, you along with Alison Petrie have been assigned as chaperones
at the school dance.”
“Fine. Any advice?”
“Just make sure no one is smoking inside the school…”
“What if I catch a smoker.”
“Throw him out.”
(That sounded easier to say than to do. I did not
know the students, especially the senior students.)
We had an overflow population at the school in 1963. The baby boomers boosted the student
body from a low of 400 in the 1950’s to a bursting 1,400 by 1963. So many students that the
tennis court and any other space was now filled with portable classrooms. Mine was the
furthest from the school. Charmingly isolated. So far away that most students did not know
I was a teacher. Fortunately a few senior students knew me as a football coach…new one.
For most kids, however, I was an unknown as was my co-chaperone Alison Petrie. She was
very short. Easily mistaken as a student.
Marjorie came with me that October evening. We liked to dance and thought this was a good
chance to have fun and show off a few of our rock and roll dance steps. The gymnasium
was packed with kids. Cheek to jowl as it were. Or, better said, they “put their warm and
tender bodies next” to each other. The girls dressed to deliberately entice male admirers…
short skirts as I remember.
Sex seems to encourage combat among male animals…including male students. They can
behave like bull moose in rutting season.
We did not get a chance to dance much that evening. We were really police officers.
Who came to the dance? Not just our students but there were lots of strangers
from god knows where. Alison and I could not tell Parkdale students from anonymous
marauders seeking to rob Parkdale females from Parkdale males.
How the hell did these strangers get into the dane in the first place? They had friends on
the inside…at the door. And there was really no rule that strangers could not come to the dance.
We grew up in the 1950’s when weekly dances were common and moose rutting performances
were rather rare. At my high school, Humberside, the most rebellious activity at my first school
dance was passing crocks full of hard cider around the dance floor. Teachers thought it
was unfermented. No fights. The rotgut just made me sick.
Lots of pop tunes n 1963 like Johny Cash and ‘Ring of Fire’…Roy Orbison’s ‘Blue Bayou’..or Bobby
Vinton’s ‘Blue Velvet’.
Wow, did Johnny Cash ever fire up student dances…opening lyrics reveal much”
Love is a burning thing
And it makes a fiery ring
Bound by wild desire
I fell in to a ring of fire
I fell in to a burning ring of fire
I went down, down, down
And the flames went higher
And it burns, burns, burns
The ring of fire
The ring of fire
On that October night in 1963 the gymnasium was quite dark. And sometimes the slow dances
were so magnetic that bodies seemed bound together…positively charged magnets. That was
a bit of a concern so we turned on a few lights. Not a popular thing to do. “Who the hell do
those new teachers think they are…police officers…morality officers”” We got some nasty looks.
“Alison, I am going to patrol the halls for a few minutes.
Will you and Marjorie be OK in the gym?”
“Fine.”
Seemed to me I had better check that no one is smoking in the school. If anyone was smoking
it would be done in the halls. And sure enough there were a bunch of boys, maybe 5 to 6
of them with lit cigarettes in the main hall. A challenge!
“Put out those cigarettes, now.”
“Who says?”
“I say.”
“Who the hell are you?”
“I teach here…placed in charge of this dance. No smoking.”
(mumbled comments may have been ‘Fuck You’ or some less
challenging few words.)
“What did you say?”
“Free country…we can say what we want…”Prick!”
“Are you Parkdale students?”
(Silence. They were apparently not our students. I did not know for sure.
And I think they still held their cigarettes.}
“OK, That’s it, boys. Get out of here. Now. There’s the front door…leave.”
(I hoped my voice did not crack as I got tough. I am not a fighter…always looked
to de-escalate confrontations because I had seen too many gang fights as a kid
in the late 1940’s when my brother and I were small and lived in the middle of
Diufferin Park. One gang member got hit over the head with a lead pipe as I
remember. Bottom line, I was not as tough as the situation in 1963 escalated
into something that could be physical.)
“Get out. All of you. Now.”
“Teacher. Think you are a big shot.”
“OUT!”
“Bet you haven’t got the guts to come outside with us.”
“I’ll escort you out. NOW!”
“Chicken shit teacher…”
“OUT!”
“Come out yourself.”
This image captures the tough guys … complete with cigarette…but these are
not the boys.
Here I made a big mistake. The challenge to come outside should have
been ignored. But that meant a loss of face and by then Parkdale students
had gathered around. So I went outside with the boys who continued to
mutter a mixture of challenges and obscenities. “Fucking teacher.”
may have been one of the expressions although the F word was uncommon
in the 1960’s. More likely I was called a ‘Son of a bitch”. Either way the challenge
had been made and stupidly I herded the boys outside.
Outside . Jameson Avenure was dark as a dungeon. The street was lined with
magnifcent old Elm trees that filtered the street lights. Our school had no exterior
lighting.
This was not good. The boys gradually moved around me. Closing off my escape
route back to the school. They were getting ready to do something. Maybe pound
the shit out of me. Maybe they were bluffing as I was bluffing. I was scared but
kept my back straight.
“Big tough teacher, eh?”
“Get out of here.”
“Afraid to do anything but talk…no guts.”
The circle was closing. I was in bad trouble. If I touched one of these
boys then I had taken the first step. They would be defending themselves.
No touching on my part, for sure. But they seemed to intend to do more
than touch me. I was trapped. In the dark. Strangers. Hot tempers.
Maybe girls watching….which would be a catalyst for violence.
Then a wonderful thing happened. Now, nearly 60 years later I remember that]
moment as if was yesterday. Out of the darkness behind me came a voice.
“Are you having any trouble Mr. Skeoch?””
And a few Parkdale boys emerged, led by Ted Spencer who was on our football
team as were the other boys who emerged into the filtered light. They knew I
was over my head and might need them if push came to shove.
The tough guys who were really just older teen agers from another school. Boys
with too much testosterone…They just drifted away…melted into the anonymity of
Jameson Avenue and Queen Street West. Gone. As if a mirage.
“Thanks, Ted, I was in trouble.”
“No problem, sir, we knew what was happening.”
Events back in the gym had also taken a turn for the worst. Well,
not that bad, really. But Alison Petrie and Marjorie had their own
troubles.
“How are things in the gym, Marjorie?”
“Not good.”
“What happened?”
“Two or three boys were talking to Alison…”So I hear
you come from the Maritimes, Miss Petrie?”
“Yes, Nova Scotia.”
“What’s wrong with that, Marjorie?”
“Lots.”
“Like?”
“As the boy in front was saying pleasant things, the boy behind Alison
was slowly unzipping her dress…very slowly.”
“Who? Point them out.”
“Alison and I have decided best to let things alone…nothing really
happened. The boys thought it was very funny.”
Eventually the dance ended. All the lights came on and the students
dispersed. That was my first school dance in which I had been
put in charge. The principal and senior teachers were at fault I believe.
Two new teachers … kids themselves…should never have been put in
charge of a school dance.
Sad to say but today, in 2020, school dances are rare. There might be
a sort school dance in an afternoon but a school dance at night seems
non existent. Too bad, really.
Then again there is no point to dancing any more. Why? Social
distancing. Covid 19 has killed dancing. Can you imagine dancing with a girl or a boy who are
sx feet distanced from each other. No chance of them “putting their
ware and tender bodies” close together.
alan skeoch
August 9, 2020
Post Script
For tje Gppd Times was written in 1970…seven years after the event
…but the meaning applies
“For The Good Times”(originally by Kris Kristofferson)
Don’t look so sad, I know it’s over.
But life goes on, and this old world will keep on turning.
Let’s just be glad we had some time to spend together.
There’s no need to watch the bridges that we’re burning.
Lay your head upon my pillow.
Hold your warm and tender body close to mine.
Hear the whisper of the raindrops,
Blowin’ soft against the window,
And make believe you love me one more time,
For the good times.
I’ll get along; you’ll find another,
And I’ll be here if you should find you ever need me.
Don’t say a word about tomorrow or forever,
There’ll be time enough for sadness when you leave me.
Lay your head upon my pillow.
Hold your warm and tender body close to mine.
Hear the whisper of the raindrops,
Blowin’ soft against the window,
And make believe you love me one more time,
For the good times.
