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Joannie Jacobs was perhaps the only female with a true
womanly figure I know of. Even in the early high school
years she resembled the ancient figure of the Venus of
Willendorf. It was a natural that we would call her Venus
for short, and she loved every minute of her nick name being
spoken out loud each day passing in the lines of the
clanking cafeteria during Sophomore Lunch.
It just was, well you know, that If she just never allowed a
word to escape in the air, If she could have been silent and
conveyed the air of mystery some believed surrounded her, if
she just didn't laugh at everything that wasn't funny, she
may have been able to ride on her reputation. But Joannie
did talk, she talked in a high pitched staccato pace as
though she had just inhaled helium, And when she laughed at
everything, anything, she reminded people of a chattering
squirrel.
Some of the meaner nabobs of the upper class men referred to
her as "squirrelly". This we thought was most
un-kind and voiced our resounding dissent at the lettermen.
But you know Joannie really didn't care. She was happy with
her world. She was happy to have friends, She shared with
everyone anything that she had. She was even the first among
us to go on a date and to the dance while we waited on
Monday to hear all of the details.
Now it so happened that after the dance on Friday night she
had accepted Roger's ring, The prize suspended from a gold
chain and dangling at breast level a handsome, Masculine
outrageously over sized class ring. She was going
"steady", Roger had actually asked her to go
steady and she had accepted.
Richard and Roger McGuire were identical twins until they
reached their second year of high school and for some untold
reason Richard's face broadened, shot four inches above his
brother and sprouted hair in shining black, all over his
body. Roger had maintained his sleek, small fast frame and
his hair fell in large loose dark ringlets softly over his
perfect forehead. He enjoyed Joannie, and always dropped a
flower, or a note, or something special each day as he
walked by in line. Something to let her know that he still
liked "all" of her very much. This action was
always accompanied with a rush of excitement and chattering
from all of us, who just about that time sounded like
Joannie's friends sitting on the next tree branch exchanging
news of the next great acorn find.
We quizzed her and needled her and she finally with great
ado allowed us to hear a sentence or two of the precious
notes amid great anticipatory sighs and eye rolling and then
at our urging, would continue after pressing the note
several times to her heart.
But one afternoon right on time and right as rain Roger
walked through the line and past our table and through
to the other side without so much as a mint dropped on
Joannie's tray. She didn't look up through lunch and she was
unusually quiet. She wasn't wearing a ring caught between
her pendulous breasts and refused eye contact with all of
us. There was something else sharply amiss, the chattering
small talk and laughter was completely deadened, stifled
with a few small tears trickling down her cheek.
No one asked a question, we didn't have to, the writing was
clearly before us when we saw Roger's hand slip around
scrawny Bonnie Crow's waist and give her a tight squeeze.
If we had asked Joannie to stop laughing on many occasions,
we wished she would start now, wished she would give a full
rambling outbreak of chatter, and roll her eyes in pink
cheeked excitement.
Somehow even the upper classmen must have sensed something
and in an unusual show of compassion, each one passing
by dropped something in front of Joannie as they
nonchalantly passed by in line, trying for full worth to be
totally inconspicuous. One even gave her a caring jock sock
in the arm.
We on many occasion had provided a ribbing entertainment,
now somehow The part of bigger brothers gave way to their
usual taunts.
Joannie recovered as we all do with the scars that heal and
teach and allow Us to be stronger and better for the
experience, and maybe a little More cautious, that never
goes away, but the laughter inside of us goes on forever
even if it is high pitched and sounding all the while like a
small furry Animal that drives us nuts, but who we prize and
love dearly in memory.
During the sixties everyone was trying to out do one another
with weird. Anything that was not common place, that was
creative, original, and vibrant. The flower child had
political concerns, environmental apprehensions, envisioned
a world filled with truth, love, and freedom to pursue
anything your heart could dream of.
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