Oak Park and River Forest High School used the alphabetical (by last name) homeroom system. Under this system, all of the students reported to a homeroom teacher from 8:20 to 8:40 a. m. when the school day started.
The teachers took attendance, handled administrative problems, and sometimes served as an advisor to individual students. During this 20-minute period, students also heard various announcements over the PA.
Mr. May, a science teacher, was my freshman homeroom teacher. He was a jovial man in his 60s who told us he would retire at the end of the school year. He had served in the Army Air Corps during World War I and would sometimes tell us about his combat experiences.
During my sophomore year, Mr. Rossiter, a math teacher, was my homeroom teacher. Each morning when we arrived, we were treated to rock-and-roll music via his radio. He was a happy man in his mid-40s who wanted to know us well, so he interviewed each student regarding his/her life.
When my turn came to be interviewed at his desk, he first asked me where I lived. I told him my address, and he then asked me if I had a large family. I told him that seven people lived in our home. Then he asked what vocation I thought about pursuing. I replied that I planned either a career in medicine or a career as a civil engineer. The civil engineer idea really pleased him. Finally, he asked me if I played a sport, and I told him that I played baseball and that I was a pitcher.
In my junior year, Miss Hawkins, also a math teacher, was my homeroom teacher.
She kept a Louisville Slugger baseball bat on her desk and often showed us that the bat had been autographed by many baseball stars of the past 20 years. The guys in the homeroom figured she was OK because she was a baseball fan.
Miss Hawkins was a tall woman with a commanding voice — not a person to defy. She was known as “Hawkeye” by my classmates. Twice I was assigned to her study hall, and if there was the slightest noise, it immediately stopped when she froze the culprits with the “hawkeye.”
Mr. Stevens was my senior year homeroom teacher. He was a tall, distinguished man in his 60s who taught American history. He was the teacher I wish I had had for American history. Each morning after announcements had ended, Mr. Stevens would ask members of the class about their respective opinions concerning current events. We discussed the Eisenhower presidency, the Cold War, Little Rock, and space travel, just to name a few.
What was so gratifying was that here was a teacher who cared about what we as young people thought.
I appreciated the homeroom period simply for the fact that, before the 8:20 bell, my classmates and I had the opportunity to exchange thoughts and maybe some gossip.
