We really believed we were the "it" girls of the 50’s. After all, we had pony tails, bee hives, poodle skirts with layers of crinolines, bobby socks with triple cuffs, saddles shoes and white bucks. If we were going steady, we even wore his letter sweater. Really cool to be sure. When we dressed up we wore platform heels, the ever present hat and gloves. The uniform of a proper lady. The year books show how nice we looked at the joint masses at St. Mary’s. Of course before going to mass we would go to confession downtown, not on campus, so Father Kerrigan wouldn’t recognize our voices as we bared our soul to God and asked forgiveness for our transgressions – so major as they seemed at the time..

In thinking about our attire of the 50’s at the Heights, we were allowed to wear slacks only once during the school year – at the annual picnic. This was held by the tennis courts. Skirts and dresses were the norm. Hair in curlers in the dining room were only permitted on prom days. Chapel veils were sold at the school office, and required for chapel entrance.

Have we come a long way, Baby? I wore a skirt tonight in memory of some dear nuns who might turn over in their graves at the sight of a pair of slacks in public, let alone at a dinner.

Remember the smoking tree? The college girls could smoke outside the building under the willow tree. Watching the girls bundled up in warm layers, huddled on a bench in the winter seemed way too cold for me, so I never took up the habit.

Proms were fun. When you were a sophomore you got to serve the juniors and seniors. Blue Hawaii was the theme our senior year. DJ’s weren’t even specks on the radar. We danced to live bands. Our dates called for us at the office. A really special corsage was an orchid, which I treasured as a senior – on my white formal. Curfew those nights was midnight, and on such special occasions we could ride in cars. The committee spent many hours on the phone calling places like Parsons College in Fairfield to get dates for everyone. This committee was a small group sitting at the end of the dorm hall gathered around the only phone on the floor. Think our kids could survive one phone for 40 girls today?

The joint plays with Central were great. Don said he fell in love with my "butt" when he saw me dance as Lelawala, the Indian maiden. I thought he was a bit dorky as the Mikado. But, it was so much fun to have an excuse – like play practice – to see the boys on campus. Remember Sister St. John – or "Johnny". She loved to play match maker and have her boys attached to her girls. The Goaleys said they liked to have their boys date Heights girls because they had to be home at a certain time.

The Boarders had sign-out slips. Saturday and Sunday afternoons we rode the bus downtown and spent all afternoon hanging out at The Pantry. Later on it was Dupy’s Bakery where you could get a nickel jelly doughnut and a large coke for a dime. On the occasional free afternoon after school we would walk through the pillars down Grandview to the Tastee Treat for an ice cream cone. It was fun to sit on the park bench on Court Street eating our cones as we people watched.

Friday nights we could have male guests that we entertained in the two front parlors. Would today’s youth even know what a parlor is? Occasionally we went roller skating at the air base. Sunday nights were the great CYO dance nights at the KC Hall. But, you had better be signed in and in rooms by first flash at 10:15. Last flash and light’s out was 10:30.

The Catholic Central Gaels’ basketball team was one of our biggest forms of entertainment. The cheer leaders were chosen from the Heights day-hops, however, as the boarders were home on vacation during much of the season. The long baggy trunks of today don’t give girls the opportunities we had to ogle the boy’s gorgeous gams.

The beautiful grotto was multi functional. On some of our spiritual days we could go to pray and adore the Blessed Virgin. The majority of the time the bridge was a lovely backdrop for taking pictures. Behind the grotto was a secluded area to make out with a guy.

The new shrine on the grounds was the location of our May crowning. The Sodality Prefect got to be May Queen. I remember Sister Ancille stopping me in the procession telling me to put straps on my formal or I could wear her black shawl. The net stole I wore was deemed immodest.

How about gym class? The girls from the Heights finishing school had bad mitton and dancing. Who could forget Millie Horibin.

The music hall with all the practice rooms brings back many memories. Sister Simone checking in to see if we were practicing our scales. The recitals were a yearly event in May, accompanied by Sister St. John’s string ensemble. I can still see Sister St. John directing us in Gregorian Chant in the chapel with her mouth frozen in a wide smile. I always thought her perfectly square teeth with their spaces between looked like George Washington’s wooden ones.

The dorms were the scene of many escapades. I remember learning about the meaning of red lights, and snickering. Rooms under the red exit signs, which located the fire escape were occupied by the nuns, hence the snickering. Before the dear sisters were assigned these rooms, a few girls realized this provided an easy escape for night time adventures. I also remember it was 88 stairs up to the dorms where the Freshman stayed - in two person alcoves. Many a Sunday afternoon was spent sitting on our beds being scared silly as we listened to "The Shadow" on the radio. I can still hear the creaking door, and the voice telling me "The Shadow Knows." Those same days and many nights, we swooned over romantic ballads such as Don Cherry’s Hold My Hand that were played on our 45 record players. Gordon McCrae was THE hunk in Hollywood. We thought Doris Day was the luckiest lady on earth to play his leading lady in so many movies. What a sight in his uniform in The West Point Story – I think I saw it five times.

And the Heights food. Remember the vineyards on the side of the motherhouse? We had grape in every possible fashion. Never before, or since have I eaten grape pie. Strangest thing is I still like grape jelly. The nuns mantra in the dining room at that time was "clean your plates, the Russians are coming." I think that early training is what made me a member of the clean plate club. Sister Gerard, the head honcho, of the students on kitchen duty, taught us to mix Clorox and water in a glass to remove stains from the table cloths, giving them another day or two of use in the dining room. I think a show of hands from the audience would be pretty low if I asked how many of you today use a tablecloth on a daily basis.

One thing, however, remains a constant – the legendary Canteen. How wonderful a treat, washed down with a Nesbitt orange, or a root beer float. Can it get any better than that? It’s still in existence today and anyone who’s spent any time at all in Ottumwa will remember sitting on the Formica topped aluminum stools lapping up the falling loose meat from the wax paper wrappers. If we were still hungry we could have a piece of pie, choosing from those staring at us from the three-tiered glass display cases.

"There are always new beginnings, new inventions to make life easier, medical advancements to prevent diseases that take lives too soon, bigger and faster cars, air conditioning, microwave ovens to speed cooking. But in the olden days, , we had time to sit on porches, drink lemonade on a hot day under the shade of a tree, wave at neighbors as they WALKED by, play croquet on the lawn, and just enjoy the simple pleasures of life.

We have indeed come a long way, baby, but this trip down memory lane tonight serves as a reminder to treasure the past with all its happy times, and to cherish the friendships made along the way. At this time, let’s have a moment of silence for those in our classes, as well as my own husband, who have made their final journey and are celebrating their eternal reward.