I attended one other Port Credit High School reunion a few years ago. I was in the area on business from Vancouver and read about it in the paper, so my wife and I decided to go. We were supposed to supply our graduation pictures for badges, and I had a choice, as I had graduated twice, in '59, and '60. The idea was to pass French, a necessity to get into engineering school, which was a waste of time as I flunked out of University anyway. MJ had no grad picture, and no others, as she'd skipped school as often as I had, so she substituted a photo of a young Audrey Hepburn.
On approaching, I was interviewed by a reporter from the Port Credit Weekly. He asked me where I was from. I told him, which prompted him to ask if we'd come especially for the reunion. I lied, saying "Yes".
"What year did you graduate?" was the next question. "59 and 60," I replied. "I never did pass French, but they gave it to me to get rid of me."
"Wow! Those were impressive years for Port Credit. Were you on the Golden Warriors football team?" he asked.
"No" was the reply.
"Were you on the Golden Warriors basketball team?"
"No" was the reply.
"Were you on the track and field team?"
"No" was the reply.
"Were you a member of the honour society?"
"No" was the reply.
"What were you noted for at Port Credit?"
I thought for a moment, and then replied, "I was considered a 'creep', at least by the girls. The term 'creep' has been replaced in recent times by terms such as 'nerd' and 'geek' although the latter suggests some degree of intellect which I was never noted for."
The reporter wrote furiously, and quoted me verbatim in the paper, which I really got a kick out of.
There is certainly no need to dwell upon the academic achievements of the author, which were certainly less than remarkable. While I mostly hated the six years I spent there, due to being a lousy student, and somewhat anti social at the time, Port Credit High School had its moments.
I've always been a "motorhead".
The parking lot was a place to hang out at noon after bolting down the paper bag sandwiches most of us carried. The cafeteria food was inedible. Port Credit took in a pretty large area, and some kids had several miles to get there. Some of the area was very affluent, but we had all types.
Bicycles were abandoned around age 12, unlike today. A bicycle was "for kids". Also, no-one would be seen dead having their mothers drop them off like they do now. Most walked, but cars were popular, particularly with the boys and a lot had them. No one cared about the environment, either.
The car lot had quite a variety, and we young "motorheads" used to hang around discussing them. Laying rubber was a popular attention seeking device with girls, or so some thought. I was sidelined here, as a 1927 Model T Ford was not the ideal tool for laying rubber. Neither was my mother's Austin A-40 which I was sometimes allowed to use.
It was guys like my friend Clint, who really excelled at this sort of thing, using his father's 57 Oldsmobile Super 88 which he snuck out of the garage when his dad was away on business. The huge air-cleaner announced in bold writing that underneath was an Oldsmobile Super Skyrocket engine, which was very impressive. It was fitted with a J-pack- three two barrel carburetors. Clint would floor the car in neutral, and then pop it in to "drive". All hell would break loose, and lots of rubber would be laid in front of the school. Hydromatics were very tough transmissions. It didn't break.
There were two Model T's, Clint's brother's 17, and my roadster which showed up from time to time. There were one or two model A's, one of which belonged to the Physics teacher. One rich kid's father, who was also a car nut, gave his son an immaculate XK-120 Jaguar roadster on his birthday, dark blue with red leather seats. That was my favorite parking lot car. There were a few MG T series, and Triumph TR-2s making up the remainder of the sports car contingent. One girl's mother let her drive a '57 Ford Fairlane 500 hardtop convertible to school once or twice a week. She gained in popularity because she let the boys fool around with the car. You had to start it prior to putting the top down, because so much current was used, that the battery was too flat to start it afterwards. That one got lots of action with booster cables. Also, the top was always raised and lowered several times during the lunch break which didn't help.
Knobby Kayama had a red 53 Buick convertible that he had won in a raffle when only 13, a Roadmaster no less, with a continental kit. Knobby's dad let him drive it to school about once a week, as it was his car after all. The fact that Knobby was only 13 with no license was ignored, and as Knobby's Japanese ancestry and age made him a bit short, his dad attached wooden blocks to the pedals, and Knobby sat on two Toronto telephone books so he could see over the dash. Knobby was very fussy about his car, and wouldn't let any of the rest of us drive it, but we often rode around in it, "cruising the strip" sometimes in the evening. Port Credit's main street, which was maybe three miles in length had an A&W drive-in at each end, and was an ideal place for cruising.
Every night on the strip, a guy by the name of "Toad" Mead sat in his 53 Mercury two door hardtop parked on the sidelines, just "looking cool". He was an old guy, perhaps 25. He arrived there each night about 7:00 and sat there for the duration. He wore a black motorcycle cap with a white peak, and always had the driver's window open and his arm on the sill. The Mercury had lowering blocks, bubble skirts, a continental kit, fluff balls around the windows, and purple "sex lights" on the inside upper corners of the windshield. You were always welcome to sit with Toad in his car which was convenient, as his radio was always tuned to Buffalo's WKBW for the "Hound", who played Rock and Roll, or WWVA, from Wheeling West Virginia. Toad's car length "whip aerial" brought the stations in from across Lake Ontario. Every now and again he would start the car to keep the battery up, and a low rumble would come from his dual exhausts and Hollywood mufflers. I never heard Toad say anything but "hello, boys" and "bye, boys", when we entered and exited his car, and "cool" when he thought someone had said something of interest.
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