A Rebel Poem

                                    A REBEL POEM

 

There was a town, we used to abide

An idyllic burg called Riverside

We went to school, our plans were laid

And on the way what friends we made

Our teachers had nicknames, there were quite a few

Do you remember Jose and even Wally Balloo

Quite a few of us knew the school well

Because we were in grade one when it was Edith Cavell

Remember the gym, the old dressing rooms,

So depressing, so dark and full of gloom.

But we laughed and giggled and had so much fun

Hurry up girls, or we’ll have to run!

Get to your class the bell would ring

No more laughter, there’s Mr. Byng.

Some stayed close, others moved away.

But friendships were built that survive till today

Looking back, what fun we had

First love, broken hearts

We’ll take the good and the bad.

At Riverside High we learned a great deal,

Met many pals and learned to feel

A strong connection to that small older school

That, to this day, is so very cool!!

I remember it all so very well

There are many a story that I could tell

Mr. Bing taught our science class

I considered him good lookin’, stern and a pain in the a—

Now history class was not my favorite & certainly not fun

Except for the teacher, “Ed Wilkinson”

He was a dream, I had such a crush

When he called my name I turned into mush.

Even though, those days are gone,

The memories in my heart will always go on.

Recent reunions brought Rebels back to Abars

Recounting anecdotes, experiences and tales of former sports stars.

Life long friendships that cannot be denied

All filled with that unique “Riverside Pride.”

So many years have elapsed since we were in class

Our friends now so scattered both lad and lass

Those memories fading – I hope they don’t pass

So I treasure the yearbooks – their fine pix and word

Helping me to recall those days we adored.

Tis true we had a lengthy stay

With many friends along the way

One whose love of learning we all know

Is that perennial scholar – Jack Barlow

Brought together by our love of sweet

Constantine’s black balls could not be beat

Three for a penny and warmed by the cat

Wyandotte and St. Louis is where it was at.

Years went by and our friendship grew

We ate candies and chocolates to name only a few

But when we look back to the best of them all

The award must go to Constantine’s BLACK BALL!

Secure and happy in our little town ways,

Wide-eyed innocence marked our days

At RHS we found interests and friends,

We discovered ourselves while noting the trends

Then came the 60’s and blew it all apart

The “ME” generation was about to start.

The balcony shook and Rebel Rouser blared,

We clapped and stomped as hard as we dared

Our team on the floor below

Responded to our cheers

Go team go, Go team go

Lets have a perfect year.

We eat when we’re hungry

We drink when we’re dry,

We’re Rebels, we’re Rebels

From Riverside High.

Look out, here comes Santa’s stable of eight

There’s Vixen and Cupid (really Healey and Finnie)

Then Comet and Dasher (picture Armin and Mudry)

Also Donner and Dancer (try Trottier and Trotter)

All led by Blitzen and Prancer (hot Sam Krewench and of course Big Bob Walton)

What we were taught was mostly good.

If you paid attention you understood.

But for giggles and chuckles there was no match

Like English with Maggie Westgate and watching her scratch.

Folks knew each other, from the cops on down

We had all that we needed, in our rivers edge town

I was drawn to the water, like Huckleberry Finn

It felt a lot like Mayberry this town I lived in.

RHS was small, quaint and free

Until we grew in Nineteen Sixty-three

There was a principal named Waldo

With his crew of Trotter and Sabo

Mr. Krewench was “vice”

Vaughan-Evans was …nice

But there’ll never be anyone like Waldo
There was a town we used to abide

Riverside by name, everything to gain

With RHS’ers, it was a wonderful ride

And today, we’re very proud to claim

We were part of the best, as we got taught,

All we should do and all we should not.

We were like family then, and still remain

Some 55 years late, we’re still in the game.

Then up to the second floor we would trot
Eight years later and they called us "hot shots".
Edith Cavell had become Riverside High
Only five more years, do you think we'll survive?
 
So much more homework
Less time to play
But we made lots of friends
And still see many today.
 
Thanks to Jack...ie, our administrator
Who keeps us abreast
Of the many reunions 
He plans with a zest.
 
We hope the next one
Is coming up soon
Now Abars is gone
And nowhere to go at noon.
 
But wait, the Sportsmen's Club
Is down the road
A finer venue
We couldn't behold.
 
Is this our year - 2018?
Maybe, maybe, only time will tell
But since we aren't getting any younger
I think another reunion would be swell.
 
 

 

AND SO ALL YOU REBELS, YOU OUGHT TO BE PROUD

FOR WRITING THESE LINES, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD

WHO TAUGHT US RHYMING, IT’S PLAIN TO SEE

WE ENDED UP….. WITH THIS LOUSY POETRY!!