Green & Gold Digest (1990)

The Cover: Rock n' Rope!

(Click on the image above to enlarge it)

Credits & Contents

Volume 1

Issue 1 (Revised 2010)

Editor-in-Chief

Mark Rabinowitz

Production Managers

Craig Pattinson

Rebecca Stern

Assistant Editors

Chris Sarsfield

Ted Skinner

Computer Support

Sander J. Rabinowitz

Mr. Myles Stern

Contents:

Welcome to Green & Gold Digest

Our Editor-in-Chief introduces you to G&G

Rope is Top (50) Quality

A California dreamer's math prowess takes him to Michigan Math Prize Competition banquet

Of Ding Dongs and Frogs

G&G finds more offbeat stories in Chemistry and French classes

The Top 5 Events Witnessed by the Class of 1990

Harrison's graduates-to-be pick their most unforgettable memories

Back to the Future, Part IV

A.P. Math 12's newsletter, The Summit, goes "Back in Time"

Statements That Stick

Mrs. Sparrow doesn't put up bumper stickers just for decorations

A Month-by-Month Year in Review

The Real American Weekly looks back on the year in A.P. English 12

G&G's Crossword Puzzle

17 little bits of trivia that our Editor just couldn't leave out

Final Notes and Special Thanks

Our Editor just has to get in the last word, and he thanks a few people, too

Cover art work, the bathroom fire map in the "Top 5 Events" article and the bar chart in the "Rope is Top 50 Quality" article were all created by Mark Rabinowitz

This is a publication of

Harrison High School

29995 West 12 Mile Road

Farmington Hills, MI 48334

and

Headline Quest

2400 Barrett Avenue

Royal Oak, MI 48067

Welcome to Green & Gold Digest

What's up, everyone?

When I first published Green & Gold Digest in 1990, I said that I did so because the staffs of the Catalyst and the Retrospect "had their hands full" making their respective publications.

You deserve a better explanation than that.

It all started when I was inducted into Harrison High School's chapter of the National Honor Society. I bought the next issue of the Catalyst expecting to see an article about the inductions, and was disappointed that they did not publish that article, after covering that story in previous years. So I asked Mrs. Kathy Nyberg, the Catalyst advisor, why that story was left out, and she explained that it was an issue of timing: The previous issue had come out just before the NHS inductions, and by the time the next issue was ready, that story had become too "old" and "stale."

I figured right there and then that the Catalyst was leaving a lot of slack that another publication could pick up. For example, supposing there was another publication that could run every three weeks (as opposed to every month as the Catalyst had been doing), it could occasionally scoop the Catalyst. That's on top of all the stories coming from the classrooms of HHS that the Catalyst might think were too "trivial" to publish to begin with.

I also knew that what I wanted to publish didn't fit well with the other two publications HHS had to offer.

Consider the Aquilla, the literary magazine: Having worked with that staff for a couple of years, I knew firsthand that my articles about various things happening in my classes just wouldn't fit in with its poetry, essays and short stories. Besides, the Aquilla had a mid-February deadline for submissions; that deadline just didn't work where "year-in-review" articles are concerned (this issue of G&G has two).
The Retrospect, like any yearbook, is mostly photographs and not a lot of text; G&G is the opposite, with lots of text and next to no photographs or graphics (a fine example is The Top 5 Events Witnessed by the Class of 1990). Furthermore, the Retrospect is an annual publication; I had wanted G&G be published every three weeks (starting with the 1990-91 school year, provided I found a faculty member willing to serve as G&G's advisor).

And thus, I began work on what I thought could become "Harrison High School's fourth publication."

I had a slogan for G&G, too: Building Bridges Over Borders. In my view, Harrison's three publications had built "borders" regarding what could and could not fit in them, and yet (here's where the "bridges" part comes in) G&G did have certain things in common with each of those publications:

Most of its articles had the look and feel of a newsmagazine (the format the Catalyst had adopted in 1988);
Like the Retrospect, it preserved memories (my AP Math teacher, Mr. Walt Boluch, even said to me on May 25, 1990, that I had "invented the poor man's yearbook"); and
If G&G had somehow continued as Harrison's fourth publication, then, like the Aquilla, any student could write and submit articles for possible publication, but a dedicated staff would decide which submissions would go in and which would not.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy looking at this refreshed online version of G&G today. It's infinitely more colorful, and I corrected a few errors found in the 1990 printed version. Articles in this online version also have links to other sites (such as articles from Wikipedia and the Farmington Observer archives). And this version is much easier to read than the printed one was.

I also have online versions of two other G&G issues: the Green & Gold Reunion Issue (created with the 2000 reunion in mind, although some of you may be seeing it for the first time) and the Green & Gold Time Capsule (which I compiled for this year's reunion).

Thanks for taking the time to read them. Now have an excellent time!

Sincerely,

Mark Rabinowitz

G&G Editor-in-Chief

Rope is Top (50) Quality

A California dreamer's math prowess takes him to MMPC banquet

Todd Rope strode into Harrison High School for the first time in almost a week. He had visited his dream college, the California Institute of Technology, and sported a white Caltech sweatshirt that had a likeness of Albert Einstein on it as proof. Then he found out about his Michigan Math Prize Competition score--a reason why Green & Gold Digest thinks his own likeness should be on that shirt instead.

It was high enough to land him in the top 100 in the state, and thus, he was invited to a statewide awards banquet, held on February 24 at Eastern Michigan University in Ypsilanti.

The Michigan Math Prize Competition is divided into two separate parts. Part I is a 40-problem test, and only the top 5% get to go on to Part II, which consists of 5 very tough college-level problems. For 1989, the minimum score required to advance to part II was 21.

The overall score for the MMPC is taken by multiplying the Part II score by 1.2, then adding it to the Part I score. Rope, who had Harrison High's best Part I score with 32 points, scored 31.2 points (26 times 1.2) on the second part to become the first HHS student to make the top 100 in the state since Mark Schiefsky ('87) in 1986.

Rope didn't show a great deal of elation, but the same could not be said for Mrs. Sue Schultz, who was his 12th Grade Advanced Placement Math teacher in 1988-89. Dana Apfelblat, who also made Part II and also had Mrs. Schultz for A.P.M. 12, recalled Mrs. Schultz exclaiming, "You made it, sweetheart!" and giving a big hug to the student with top score in the whole Farmington School District.

Jim Cannon, the next-highest scorer in the district, missed out on the banquet by one point--his total score was 49 and he needed 50. What's more, because Rope outscored him in Part I, 32-31, Cannon was also denied the chance to become the HHS Class of 1990's top Part I scorer in all four years; otherwise, Cannon would have been bestowed with a special award.

At the banquet, Rope got a Bronze Award (a bronze medal) for being in the Top 50, along with a $350 scholarship. Only sixteen students garnered higher awards--Gold Awards went to the top five, and Silver Awards went to those finishing between 6th and 16th.

In addition to Rope, Cannon and Apfelblat, two other seniors got to take the Part II test based on their performance in Part I (Dan Fulga and Mark Rabinowitz), and so did junior Shaw Brown, who admitted to having made more than a few lucky guesses. Fulga strengthened his third-place standing with 12 Part II points. Rabinowitz and Apfelblat struggled with Part II; Apfelblat outscored Rabinowitz, 6-3.6. Finally, Brown added 2.4 points to his total.

Three weeks before the banquet, Rope refuted the idea stated in the first paragraph of this article--that his face should be on a Caltech sweatshirt--by arguing that if you took the top 100 students from each state, the resulting 5000 would overfill Caltech a number of times over. He concluded, "The point I'm making is, being in the top 100 in the state does not put my face on this shirt at all."

Still, he did get accepted to Caltech in March. He may have second thoughts in the idea now.

Of Ding Dongs and Frogs

G&G takes a peek in other classrooms and finds more offbeat stories

AP CHEMISTRY STUDENTS GET TO TEACH

In mid-April 1990, Mr. Tom Shalla decided he wanted to judge the seven students in his Advanced Placement Chemistry class by more than just a few tests.

So he had each of the seven teach various aspects of chemistry, ranging from molecular bonding to thermodynamics.

This series of student-led presentations, which began on April 24 and ended on May 9, got off to a slow start. Ed Serzo's nuclear chemistry lecture didn't cover a whole lot of ground, and Mr. Shalla realized that each presentation could be done in one day, rather than two days as he originally planned. Jim Cannon's redox (short for reduction/oxidation) lecture wasn't much better. Craig Pattinson had the misfortune of having to cover complex chemistry, although at least he had an excuse to fall back on: This subject was the only one that Mr. Shalla had not previously covered.

Mark Rabinowitz was quick to volunteer to cover molecular bonding because he remembered Mr. Shalla covering it in Chemistry I, which he took two years before. Following his lecture, he started the "Valence Bond Quiz Championships" in an effort to find out how effectively he had taught the material. He would ask questions of his students, who would be matched up against each other, with two Ding Dongs serving as the prize for the final champion. In the best-of-five-question semifinal matches, Todd Rope beat Serzo while Pattinson shut out Lena Larsson; afterwards, Rope dispatched Pattinson in the best-of-seven championship matchup.

Rope and Dana Apfelblat were going to cover thermodynamics, with Apfelblat covering enthalpy and entropy and Rope doing free energy charge. What Mr. Shalla didn't realize was that Apfelblat should have gone first, because in order to explain free energy charge, you first have to cover enthalpy and entropy. Rope ended up covering all three, and in the process, Apfelblat's lecture on enthalpy and entropy was pretty much reduced to a retread.

Larsson finished with electrochemistry. Afterwards, Mr. Shalla had her give out some popsicles left over from Chemistry I class experiments that had taken place earlier in the day. Remarked Mr. Shalla, in reference to Rabinowitz's contest, "We're gonna give one to everybody, not just the winner."

FROG TRIALS RIVET MADAME ORLICH'S CLASS

Last year, Mrs. Pierette Orlich was missing one of her collection of frogs. In its place was a note demanding extra credit in exchange for the frog's safe return.

Since then, frog abuse has gone on the rise, and there have been not one, but two, "frog trials" in which French students tried to determine who absconded with a missing frog. These Kangaroo Court-type affairs have supplanted Mrs. Orlich's "Bucky Beaver" imitations as an annual tradition. This year, students have lined up frogs and made them appear as if they were "mooning" the class; hung them by the cords of TV sets anytime the class was scheduled to see a videotape; and played catch with them. So, future French students should expect to hear Madame say, "Ne lancez pas les grenouilles!"

(Editor's note: At the end of this article, as originally printed in 1990, I said, "These are two of the kind of stories that HHS students will submit to G&G this fall. G&G can't wait for gym class bloopers, either!" I mentioned "gym class bloopers" because we all like seeing sports bloopers on TV, so I imagined that in a future G&G issue, someone would write up some story about this softball blooper or that flag football blooper. In any case, G&G did not become a regular publication at Harrison High.)

The Top 5 Events Witnessed by the Class of 1990

5. RETROSPECT: '88 GREAT, '89 OUT OF LINE

Retrospect 1988 was a terrific yearbook. To start, it was the first Retrospect with a full-color cover (all of the 17 previous editions had, at most, two colors on their covers). Other creative touches that had never appeared in previous Retrospects included the use of foil stars as borders for the Hollywood-themed Homecoming pages, and diagonally cropped pictures. It even gave coverage to such activities as the Intramural Basketball Association and the Pom-Pon Boys. Slightly larger in size than previous Retrospects, it also introduced the option for students to have their name imprinted on the cover in gold (for a small additional charge). All in all, it exceeded its readers' expectations.

So Harrison students awaited the encore in '89. And awaited. And awaited.

The '89 Retrospect finally came out on November 3, more than a month and a half after Homecoming (which was when the yearbook usually came out). But after reviewing the book, it became obvious that it was not worth the wait. The Retrospect fell flat in a number of ways.

For starters, the cover was not exactly original; it was slapped together using bits and pieces from previous Retrospect covers. The "ret·ro·spect" at the top of the cover came from the 1985 edition (which used a dictionary motif), and the torchbearer at the bottom came from the 1984 edition (that torchbearer made sense for 1984--the Summer Olympic games were held that year in Los Angeles--but not for 1989). (Mark Rabinowitz was among the first to notice this. He had previously seen both the '84 and '85 Retrospects because his brother Sander, Class of '86, was on the yearbook staff from 1983 to 1986.)
There was no coverage of the fantastic spring 1989 school musical, "Bye Bye Birdie".
There were a few large blank white spaces that could have been filled in with either text or additional pictures (see pages 50-51 and 84-85 for examples).
In the December 1989 issue of the Catalyst, staff reporter Nicole DeWitt noted that "Some cut lines (captions below the photographs) were snide." In case you have a copy of that yearbook, pages 23 and 51 have two of the worst.
There were two different pages of "Class Favorites" (pages 37 and 165). So, for example, how was anyone to know if the Class of 1989's favorite TV show was "Married... With Children" or "Roseanne"?
The most obvious mistake was that the faces didn't match the names in the freshman, sophomore and junior sections (unless you were lucky enough to be on the upper-left or lower-right corner of a page).
The senior section was far from perfect. The last eight pictures in that section were not in alphabetical order; perhaps they were found and added at the last minute, and twenty-three were "not pictured"--an unusually large number of seniors to not have had their picture taken, so it's possible their pictures were misplaced and not found in time for inclusion.

DeWitt's report also stated that the '89 Retrospect had been abandoned by the previous year's staff, meaning that the 1990 staff found itself with the unexpected task of completing that book quickly when the '89-90 school year began (rather than get started on the '90 edition).

Becca Rosen ('89), who was the Catalyst's Focus Co-Editor in 1988-89, published a letter in the Catalyst blasting the Retrospect for "sloppy fact gathering," noting that Catalyst Co-Editor-In-Chief Danielle Clervi was omitted from the Retrospect's coverage of the newsmagazine. Rosen concluded, "I question why a yearbook award was given to the Editor-in-Chief at Swing Out."

The 1989 Retrospect could have been even worse in one way. Earlier in 1989, Michelle Lee (the yearbook's Academics Section editor that year) said that sales of the book had been sluggish, and that unless sales picked up, that every single page--even the Senior section--could be in black-and-white. But the staff managed to boost sales in April to give them just enough money for select pages to be printed in color. Retrospect 1971--the inaugural edition of Harrison's yearbook--is the only Retrospect to be completely black-and-white.

In the meantime, Mr. A. Emerson Coates stated that the 1989 Retrospect was the worst he had ever seen in his 11 years as the yearbook's advisor, adding, "There will not be a repeat of last year."

4. HHS FACELIFT PICKS UP THE PACE IN '87

In 1987, Harrison High made some major improvements on its 17-year-old building.

For starters, painters came in to paint much of the middle and bottom floors in beige, covering the patchwork of gold, goldenrod and golden brown.

Also, new windows were installed in the fall of 1987. They were supposed to have been installed in the summer of that year (Harrison's summer school and drivers' education classes had been shifted to North Farmington High for that reason); however, nobody put in any new windows until October, a month into the new school year. Gone was the mix of glass and plexiglass windows. The plexiglass windows were a mistake because, although they were shatter-resistant, a few rotten students liked burning them with cigarette lighters; also, they became less transparent with age.

The gym was also redone that fall. HHS switched to a wood floor after using a green rubber composite floor* for its first 17 years, mainly because the rubber floor got dirty too easily. (That said, according to Coach Robert Sutter, injuries did not occur as often on the softer rubber floor.) The walls were repainted in white with green and yellow stripes running around them. New banners commemorating the sports teams' highest achievements were bolted to one wall, as was a board of boys' and girls' track records to the opposite wall. Also, the ceiling tiles were removed (they were prone to being dislodged by errant balls, especially where volleyball games were concerned), and the ceiling, vents and fans were all coated with acoustical paint.

The gym teachers no longer needed plastic tape to mark off boundaries for volleyball games or 3-point lines for basketball, either; these were all now painted on the new gym floor.

And last but not least, Harrison's mobility-impaired students got a ramp at the main entrance to the school building. Before, pretty much the only way that those students could get to the top floor would be to get dropped off at the second floor, almost directly below the main entrance, then take a nearby elevator to go up.

*Editor's note 6/1/2019: During the closing ceremony at Harrison, head football coach John Herrington said that the wood floor was installed over the rubber floor. Earlier editions of G&G incorrectly said that the rubber floor was removed.

3. BATHROOM FIRE TARNISHES HARRISON'S IMAGE

The early chapters of Harrison's history were filled with vandalism. Among the ugly stories passed down from the 1970s were the trashing of the student lounge (located on the bottom floor near the 4W stairs, across from the entrance to the band room, it had long since become a padlocked storage room) and the destruction of the school radio station. In April 1984, the school was burglarized; the cash and property stolen (including computers and electronics) amounted to more than $30,000, school was closed for one day, and the incident was featured on local TV newscasts. In addition, HHS had more than its share of graffiti, such as “CLASS OF '77” on the roof of an outbuilding near the main entrance; and “84 ****ING ROCKS” on an exterior wall, also near the main entrance, in June of 1984.

Harrison had spent recent years improving its image, particularly with a few key remodeling projects in 1987 (see story #4, HHS FACELIFT PICKS UP THE PACE IN '87). In addition, the Michigan High School Athletics Association (MHSAA) gave HHS the privilege of hosting a boys' basketball district playoff tournament in 1988. The school administrators also planned on converting the former student lounge into a choral music room, which would be larger than the one they had.

Then, just 20 minutes into first hour on March 11, 1988, the school's fire alarms went off and the day ceased to be just another ordinary school day. A fire had started in the men's bathroom near stairwell 3E, and from there, a hellish cloud of breath-robbing smoke spread through the English and Math corridors, choking those who came near it.

As over 900 students and faculty waited outside, the word spread that this was no fire drill: They would be out in the cold morning air for more than just a few minutes--and most did not have their coats on because they didn't expect to be out for long.

Students who exited the school through the main entrance got to see a red Farmington Hills Fire Department fire engine roar down 12 Mile and drive up to the main entrance. Most of them cheered--some hoping the fire would not ravage the school, others wishing for a big explosion, and perhaps a few wishing they had thrown their books in the fire.

The fire was out before first hour ended, but the soot and the noxious, headache-inspiring odors remained. The decision to not close the school for the day shocked the returning students beyond belief. In particular, sophomores had to take their Refresher Math Tests that morning amid those odors.

According to this report in the March 14, 1988 Farmington Observer, the fire caused an estimated $1,000 in damages; assistant principal John Summerlee and biology teacher Joyce Tomlinson put it out using an extinguisher from one of the science classrooms.

During both lunch periods, boys flocked in numbers to that bathroom to see the damage. According to Mrs. Tomlinson, the toilet paper dispenser in one of the toilet stalls was on fire when she arrived to put it out, using a fire extinguisher, which she rolled to the bathroom with a cart. She also said that she and Mr. Summerlee had put out most of the fire before the firefighters arrived. The flames had climbed up the steel partition, depositing soot on the ceiling tires directly above it.

In the aftermath, a school stood in shame, its students disagreeing over exactly how much damage the fire did. Either they shrugged it off, thinking, We still have a school, or they considered the damage done to something intangible: Harrison's image, which might be the subject of more negative hearsay, especially from those attending rival North Farmington High.

In May 1990, more than two years later, the fire's starting point was still easy to find. Although the bathroom's walls were repainted, and the toilet paper dispenser replaced, a piece of rubber molding damaged by the fire had not been replaced. Also, at the same place, 39 small tiles were still missing from the floor.

(Editor's note: On October 16, 2010, at the Harrison High 40th Anniversary Celebration, more than 22½ years after the fire, Mrs. Tomlinson informed me about an error I had made in the original G&G. I had mistakenly believed that the fire began when someone lit the rubber molding at the bottom of a partition dividing the two toilet stalls, and the fire spread upwards from there.)

2. THREE POWER FAILURES HIT HHS IN 14 MONTHS

Harrison's troubles with the lights going out started on September 30, 1988. During 4th hour that day, a power failure put most of its classrooms out of commission. HHS administrators made the decision to keep those classrooms that still had their lights on to continue with their classes, making students in those rooms suffer while others laughed from the outside looking in.

1 1/2 months later, on November 16, a citywide power outage knocked out the entire school during 6th hour. Students walked through the school in a state of confusion for the rest of that period, not knowing what to do, not sure if they should leave. The outage lasted approximately 3 hours and 25 minutes, and the city needed generators at almost every street corner to restore power.

HHS still had no policy concerning power failures when October 19, 1989 arrived. During fourth hour, the lights flickered at 11:11 A.M., when students briefly erupted in ecstasy, then groaned when the lights returned. Similar reactions occurred at 11:16 A.M., when the lights flickered a few more times. Five minutes later, they flickered once more, then went out for the last time. According to the Farmington Observer, a 2.3-inch snowfall--extremely unusual for October--had blanketed the city that morning, bringing down tree limbs and electrical wires and causing the outage.

Shortly after the power went out, those students who wanted to leave did, especially those who were angry about the lack of clear direction from school administrators as to whether they should stay or not. For those who did leave, the decision to go home turned out to be a good one, because the next day, school administrators decided that official attendance for October 19 would be kept for only the first three hours.

Ultimately, the administration did work out a power failure policy. As in tornado drills, students would be directed to designated rooms. In addition, the Chemistry rooms received emergency backup lighting--a must for safety in case a dangerous experiment was in progress the next time the lights went out. Also, all classrooms received flashlights. The headline of the Catalyst's report on the subject, as written by Susie Levin ('91): Harrison will see the light.

Another blackout occurred on May 10, 1990 at 1:39 P.M., probably caused by heavy winds that afternoon. Considering that the students stayed in their classrooms until administrators dismissed them early, it's safe to say, the policy's worked well so far.

1. HARRISON HIGH WINS TWO STATE FOOTBALL CHAMPIONSHIPS

When the Class of 1990 first entered Harrison High in 1986, the Harrison Hawks were four years removed from their last state football championship. In 1982, Rubik's Cube was the hot toy, kids and young adults spent their quarters at the video arcade on games like Pac-Man and Donkey Kong, and E.T. had become the biggest money-making movie ever.

Fast forward to 1987. Six months after the Hawks' 1986 season crumbled at the hands of Marysville and their hard-nosed coach, Walt Braun, in the state semifinals, it looked as though Harrison would be content to keep getting regional championships, and the Silverdome threatened to become a distant memory.

The class of 1990 seemed content, too. They never expected to have, in their own graduating class, a quarterback who would set state passing records and become the most sought-after college prospect HHS had seen since running back/defensive back John Miller ('84), if not ever.

Then lightning struck. Millard Coleman Sr., a State Farm Insurance agent, got transferred to Farmington Hills from Albion. His son, Mill, had already established himself as the quarterback of Albion High's varsity team, having led their offense in his freshman season (freshmen are not allowed to play on the varsity team at Harrison).

The 1987 football season would only be the beginning for No. 6. Coleman's large hands and scrambling ability were enough to convince Braun to say, "The only way to contain Coleman is to throw a grenade at him," prior to Harrison's state semi-final rematch against Marysville. The Hawks gave the Vikings, the 1986 Class B state champs, their payback with a 35-20 come-from-behind victory, leaving Braun grumbling over whether or not he really should have brought some grenades.

Unfortunately, a week later, Harrison fell to Grand Rapids Catholic Central, 19-7, in the Class B state final. The Hawks finished 11-2 that year, its only losses coming in that game and in the Western Lakes Activities Association (WLAA) league championship against Westland John Glenn.

In 1988, Harrison became a powerhouse. Coleman's passing and running skills were complemented by a brickwall defense, surehanded receivers Bryan Wauldron and Chad Burgess, and a solid inside running game featuring tailback Matt Conley. The Hawks would score more than 8 times as many points as their opponents. Even the playoff games were lopsided affairs; all four were decided by more than 30 points. Highlights of the season included HHS avenging its 1987 loss to Westland Glenn, shellacking the Rockets, 45-7, for the WLAA title; destroying its first three playoff opponents, 109-7; and last but not least, easily manhandling St. Joseph in a record-setting Class B state final, 44-9, for Coach John Herrington's third state championship.

As the 1989 season began, Harrison's title defense was far from a sure thing. Burgess and Wauldron had graduated, and so did many of 1988's defensive starters. The pressure was on the new seniors--especially tri-captains Coleman, Conley and placekicker Steve Hill--to prove that they could overcome those departures. On top of that, the Hawks' first game was a highly-hyped tilt against Saginaw Arthur Hill, one of the top Class A schools. Harrison won that game, 34-18, and kept on winning throughout the regular season, although they didn't own their opponents the way they did the year before. They repeated as Western Lakes champs with a 23-15 win over Westland Glenn. After winning a fourth straight regional championship, they would play two unforgettable final games.

At Flint Atwood Stadium came the only game where Hill would kick a field goal that made a difference, on a field so covered with ice, everybody expected an Ice Capades halftime show. Harrison narrowly defeated East Grand Rapids, 3-2 (the East Grand Rapids safety came late in the game, when the Hawks were backed up deep in their own territory, and Coleman ran the ball out of the end zone to avoid a turnover; this also meant Harrison didn't have to punt the ball from their own end zone).

Then came a game at the Silverdome that would be forever known as The Classic Game. Harrison was at the 'Dome for the third year in a row--equalling all the trips it had made B.C. (Before Coleman). This time, they would face DeWitt (which Free Press prep sports writer Mick "Son of Swami" McCabe frequently called "DeWhat").

The Hawks got off to a rough start, trailing, 21-7--one of the rare occasions in Coleman's years at Harrison that the Hawks would be down by two touchdowns. But touchdown runs by Conley and Coleman tied the game at 21.

Then, with less than three minutes left in the game, DeWitt broke the tie with as quarterback Chris Berkimer ran for a touchdown. A crucial extra point by Panther placekicker Marty Camp was next.

"THE KICK IS BLOCKED! THE KICK IS BLOCKED! IT'S NO GOOD!"

Senior linebacker Matt Sperry charged through the left side of DeWitt's offensive line unblocked and got his left forearm on the kick. And now, with 2 minutes and 12 seconds remaining, Harrison could win the game with a touchdown and an extra point, rather than just tie it.

Coleman didn't even need one minute.

He led Harrison on a 67-yard drive that took just five plays. He started that drive by completing three straight passes--24 yards to Mike Saputo, 12 to Steve Hill and 15 to Greg Piscopink ('92)--before finishing with two runs (7 yards, then 9 for the touchdown). Then Hill added his all-important extra point.

"I never really got worried," Coleman later said. "When they scored, I looked at the clock and saw we had all three of our timeouts left."

"What kept going through my mind was when (Denver Broncos' QB) John Elway had to go 98 yards a couple of years ago against Cleveland in the playoffs. I just kept thinking 'The Drive. The Drive. The Drive.'"

The Panthers got the ball one more time, but an interception by Hill finished them off. The Classic Game was a 28-27 victory--Harrison's fourth state championship as well as their 26th straight win--and served as a fitting end to Coleman's high school football years. (For more details on the game, check out this article from the Farmington Observer archives.)

Coleman passed for 7,464 yards and 77 touchdowns, setting state records in both categories. He would continue to wear green after graduating from Harrison, as a Michigan State Spartan; he picked MSU over Michigan and Colorado on January 31, 1990 at a press conference held in the HHS gymnasium. The headline in the Detroit Free Press the next day: QB Coleman wants to thrill MSU fans.

(Editor's notes: Coleman's state passing records for career yardage and career touchdowns stood until Jason Fracassa of Sterling Heights Stevenson broke them in 2009. Also, Hill once held two state kicking records. His record for extra points in a season, set in 1988, stood until 1999; and his record for career extra points stood until 2000. For the entire list of MHSAA state football records, go here.)

Back to the Future, Part IV

Universal Pictures Presents...

(EDITOR'S NOTE: This article has been revised a great deal from what I originally published in May 1990. The reason: I had this great idea, a sort of cross-over between our universe and the Back to the Future universe, because BTTF Parts II and III both came out during our senior year. In the years that followed, it became obvious that the original version wasn't executed well at all. Anyway, the general plot remains the same: Marty McFly and Dr. Emmett Brown travel to 1989 so Marty can learn Calculus from Mr. Boluch; in the process, Marty experiences everything that happened in the 4th hour A.P.M. 12 class.)

Monday

November 4

1985

2:27 P.M.

It had been a little over a week. But Marty McFly felt like he needed a month to recover from his hectic, crazy, extraordinary time-travelling adventures with Dr. Emmett L. Brown, the scientist who was now being reported missing by the local media.

In particular, he had been thinking over what Dr. Brown said:

"The future is what you make it, so make it a good one."

But now Marty was driving home in his new Toyota pickup truck, dealing with the reality of the present, particularly the reality of his worst report card--four C's, including a C- in Precalculus, and two B's. He was better than that, of course, otherwise he wouldn't have earned the trust of the scientist responsible for the greatest invention ever. But he hadn't done nearly enough to make Mr. Strickland think twice about calling him a "slacker."

He checked the mailbox and saw a letter addressed to him from Biff's Auto Detailing. (Marty had "borrowed" blank copies of the letterhead and envelopes from Biff and given them to Dr. Brown, so the Doc could send letters to Marty because using stationery marked "Emmett L. Brown Enterprises" was sure to set off alarms.) As he knew that it must be the Doc, he went to his bedroom, opened the letter and read it.

Dear Marty,
If my calculations are correct, you realized that this letter had to be from me even though my name isn't on the return address. I still want everybody--especially the nosy people at the Post Office--to keep thinking I'm missing.
Tomorrow, you will receive a package containing a wristwatch and some clothing. This wristwatch is a time travel device from the distant future. (I couldn't use that locomotive so I had to find a time-travel device that was more inconspicuous.) Open the package immediately after receiving it, but make sure to do so in a private place--hopefully your bedroom provides sufficient privacy. Change into the clothing--it's from four years into the future so it may look a little strange--and then press the red button on the wristwatch. It is already programmed with the destination time and place so do not worry about setting anything on it.
Finally, please destroy this letter after reading these instructions.

Best Regards,

Dr. Emmett L. Brown

Marty had figured that he would never travel through time with Doc; after what happened with his preventing his parents' first meeting in 1955 and the Gray's Sports Almanac in 2015, Marty couldn't blame Doc for leaving him out of any other time travel plans. Marty tore up the letter and buried the pieces at the bottom of the trash can in his bedroom.

The next day, the package arrived. The wristwatch arrived, as did some odd clothing--a pair of jeans that looked like they had a "frosted" look to them, for one. Marty changed his clothing, put on the wristwatch and pressed the red button. Suddenly, his surroundings changed. What was once his bedroom had become a wooded area. Beyond the woods, just 80 yards or so to the east, he could see a large building--it looked to him like it might be a prison.

He heard a familiar voice yell out from behind him, "Marty!"

Startled, Marty turned around to see the Doc. "Doc, you scared me there! Where the hell are we? ... When are we?"

"We are in the city of Farmington Hills, Michigan at precisely 7:30am on August 29, 1989."

"What's this all about? Can't you just come back to the lab in 1985 and explain everything?"

"Explain my younger appearance, the loud noises, the trails of flame in the parking lot, the Libyans, that building they destroyed outside the Mall? They'd send me to the FBI."

"Then why are we in the future? You told me Jennifer and I will turn out fine and the future's what we make it. So there's nothing wrong with me, right?"

"True. But I thought one day, I should repay you for saving my life in 1885," Doc said as he walked in the direction of that large building. "And I figured, what better way to do that than a whole school year studying Calculus under one of the best math teachers this country has to offer, Mr. Walt Boluch."

"Doc, I'm having enough troubles with Precalc, and you're right, I'm thinking about dropping that. Why should I be taking Calculus?"

"In order to get college math credit, Marty, you'll need to do really well on the AP Calculus exam. And you need Calculus for that exam."

Dr. Brown then produced a piece of paper from his pocket.

"I took the liberty of registering you for your classes," he said. "Here's your schedule... Mass Media, Spanish IV, Journalism II, Advanced Placement Math 12--that's the Calculus class--American Government and Physics."

Marty looked over the schedule. About a minute later, something occurred to him.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, Doc, are you telling me that I'll be going to this..." He read the name of the school on his schedule. "... Harrison High School for the whole school year?"

"Precisely!"

"I'll be nine months older next time I see Jennifer."

"That's not a bad thing, Marty. Trust me, men mature a lot more slowly than women. You could use the extra nine months."

Consider the students in Mr. Boluch's 12th Grade A.P.M. (Advanced Placement Math) class. Some people had thought of that college credit. Rumors of a Cedar Point trip may have spurred on others (the Physics class did have one; Mr. Boluch's classes did not). 41 students were enrolled in either the first hour class or the fourth hour class (42 if you include Marty, who would join the fourth hour class).

The main goal of the course was to cover Calculus so students could do well on the Advanced Placement Calculus Exam the following May. And thus, a year-long preparation began.

Dr. Brown had to make sure Marty was learning Calculus, so he got a job at Harrison High's Industrial Arts Department. During the break between 3rd and 4th hours one day, he caught Marty carrying, along with his Calculus book, a Grab Bag of Cheetos, and took that from him. "Marty, the Cheetos can wait until B-lunch. Work on the review sheet!"

"Gimme a break, Doc," Marty said. "Nobody else is doing them."

Dr. Brown replied, "Whoever 'nobody' is, they're not thinking of that college credit! Know anyone who's serious?"

"I know a few who are studying for this Michigan Math test."

Dr. Brown slapped his forehead. "Of course! The Michigan Math Prize Competition--that might be a tough exam for you--only the top 6% in the state get to advance to an even more difficult exam to compete for cash prizes. Anyway, get in touch with those students. They've got to be the best in the class if they're willing to spend $2 on a competition where only the top 100 in the state get prizes."

"Or they're crazy. Say, Doc, can't you just get the answers for the Michigan Math test? I could use some of that money."

"After what happened with that Sports Almanac? I'd just as soon have you committed."

Of course, A.P.M. 12 wasn't all about studying. For example, Tim Story, Phil Hatch and Brian Ellison helped the Seniors win the Field Day event at the end of the annual Spirit Week (September 15). During the wheelchair race, Ted Skinner caused a sophomore to fall out of his wheelchair with a roll of toilet paper he threw from the stands--one of the front wheels of the wheelchair caught on the roll, causing it and the sophomore riding it to topple over.

The following Monday, Mark Rabinowitz said that the toilet paper/wheelchair blooper reminded him of the final scene in the movie, "The Naked Gun" (in which a still-injured O.J. Simpson rolls down an aisle at a stadium in his wheelchair, and ends up flying out of that wheelchair and over the railing of the upper deck).

But seriously, two dozen A.P.M. 12 students participated in Part I of the Michigan Math Prize Competition. Two got to go on to Part II--Dan Fulga from the 1st hour class (he had 26 problems right out of 40) and Rabinowitz from the 4th hour class (24). (For more details on this, see Rope is Top (50) Quality.)

"Doc, I hope this doesn't mess up my transcript. How am I supposed to explain that I went to Harrison High School four years after I graduated from Hill Valley High?" Marty wondered on a whim.

"It won't mess up anything, as long as you don't tell anyone you went here. After the school year is over, you'll go back to 1985, on the exact same day you left, but with a far greater understanding of math than you had before. That means you'll do a lot better at Hill Valley High--you've got to do better, you got a 62 on that first test on fundamental differentiation!"

"But Doc, Mr. B. added 27 points to everybody's tests, so I've got an 89!"

"Marty, you should look at Jared Goldapper's test! Here, I borrowed it from him yesterday and copied it."

"Some whiz kid! Holy geez, he didn't even need the curve!"

Few students in A.P.M. 12 could equal Goldapper's seemingly effortless work. Getting 100% on most tests became commonplace for him.
That test on fundamental differentiation, the one that Marty got a 62 on (or an 89 if you account for that curve), took place on October 16. Three days later, a power failure hit Harrison during 4th hour that day (see more details in the Top 5 Events Witnessed by the Class of 1990).

On October 25, after class, Marty looked at the newest edition of The Summit, a class newsletter published by Rabinowitz. Marty wanted to ask him if he could have a copy to show to Debbie Stein, the Co-Editor-in-Chief of the Catalyst, the school newsmagazine. But Mark had already rushed off to lunch.
He turned to Mr. Boluch and said, "This Mark's got a hell of a memory. How does he remember the dates for all these power failures?"
Mr. Boluch said, "He's been writing newsletters for my class for over a year now. One of the two power failures from last year took place during my class, too. So he's been keeping records for at least that long. But you're right, he has a very good memory, too."

Marty did ask Mark during the next day's Mass Media Class, and the following month, the Catalyst did publish a power failure story, although it did not credit Mark for his contributions. Also that month, the 1989 edition of the Retrospect yearbook came off the presses. It bombed, to say the least; for more details, see The Top 5 Events Witnessed by the Class of 1990.

In December, Harrison's Jack Buller Chapter of the National Honor Society inducted 5 seniors, along with 27 juniors. All five were from A.P.M. 12 (Jared Goldapper, Debby Hirsch, Jason McCombs, Shannon McCormick and Mark Rabinowitz).

Marty woke up one morning during Winter Break to a phone call from Mr. Boluch, who said, "Marty, I'd like you to pick up your copies of the 1985 and 1988 AP Exams."

Marty thought to himself, Darn, I thought everything would get put off because of those two snow days last Thursday and Friday. "Sure, when can I come over there?"

"Well, I'd like you to get it today, because you could one of my top candidates for this year's AP Exam. I'd like you to start studying now, instead of waiting until after the break, like everyone else."

It was during--not after--Winter Break that preparation for the 1990 Calculus AB exam began in earnest. Not only did Mr. Boluch make copies of the 1985 and 1988 AB exams, but also the multiple choice problems from the more difficult BC exams taken in those two years; free response problems from AB exams spanning two decades, and an old AP Course description that had 24 problems. He even used the AB exam from 1969.
March 2 witnessed the arrival of a large bat at Harrison. It provided one of the few times that the 1st hour class would wake up (Ray Vucinaj told G&G that, like most 1st hour classes, this A.P.M. 12 class seemed subdued, perhaps wishing for more sleep). The bat terrorized the top floor until a custodian killed it with a broom.
Also, Mr. Boluch broke up three fights. Two of them took place in the math corridor, and the third in the bathroom by the 3E stairwell. These fights, along with a few others, threatened to make Harrison look like a low-rent Caesars Palace during the 1989-90 school year.

The preparation got more intense during the spring. More afterschool meetings. More reviewing and re-reviewing of old AP Exams.
Then the big day came: May 11, 1990.
Eleven students were ready for the challenge. They were Mill Coleman, Dan Fulga, Jared Goldapper, Debby Hirsch, Lena Larsson, Sandi Morelli, Alex Nemirovsky, John Oros, Mark Rabinowitz, John Sacco and Vic Varsanyi. OK, if you include Marty McFly, that would make it 12. They tackled 45 multiple-choice problems, followed by 6 free response problems that provided greater challenges then all the multiple-choice problems combined. Every student in Room 380 used every ounce of concentration and determination they could muster during the three hours alotted. By noon, the test was over, a year's worth of work condensed onto a relatively small amount of paper.
After reviewing responses to the free response questions, Mr. Boluch noted that a few stood out as potential 5's on the AP grading scale of 1 to 5. But scores would not come until July. In the meantime, Mr. Boluch moved on to more material for the A.P.M. 12 final exam. After this, the year in Calculus would finally end.

As much as Marty wanted to enjoy Swing Out, graduation night and the All-Night Party, Dr. Brown was determined to get himself and Marty back to 1985 while Marty still had a solid working knowledge of Calculus in his head. Doc had checked Marty's answers on the AP Exam and determined that he had scored a 3--not bad considering he had been struggling with Precalc. They went into a vacant Room 391 when nobody was looking and pressed the red buttons on their wristwatches to send them back to Hill Valley, California in 1985.

"I wonder how much credit you'll get at Hill Valley College," Doc wondered as they returned.

"Forget that," Marty responded with a grin. "I'll apply to U of M as soon as I get home. You might be looking at a Michigan man..."

"Great Scott! That means your children might get messed up again! Marty, I didn't want to go back to 2015, but we've got to double-check on Junior and Marlene!"

BACK... TO CALCOBABBLE

"Good."

-Paul Levine, when Mr. Boluch said he would do "one more problem" before assigning homework

"To drop out."

-Joe George, guessing what Mr. Boluch was "trying to tell" him

"Look in the back of the book."

-Ted Skinner, anticipating what Mr. Boluch wanted the class to do on a homework assignment

"You see, that's the dumb way!"

-Skinner, when Mr. Boluch made an error while attempting to demonstrate "the dumb way" to do a problem

"Just think of how many trees you killed!"

-Skinner again, on all the copies Mr. Boluch made of various AP tests

"This is the totally terrible way to do this problem."

-Mr. Boluch, when he demonstrated an incorrect approach to a math problem

"Shame on you."

-Mr. Boluch, when anyone made a dumb error

THE SUMMIT, the newsletter of A.P.M. 12, is a publication of the Headline Review Foundation © 1990, edited by Mark Rabinowitz for Green & Gold Digest. Contributors from the 1st hour A.P.M. 12 class were Matt Paletz, Tim Story and Ray Vucinaj. THE SUMMIT wishes the best of futures for the Class of 1990, G&G, and Mr. Boluch's next A.P.M. 12 class!

Statements That Stick

Mrs. Sparrow doesn't put up bumper stickers just for decorations

Contrary to popular belief, Mrs. Laura Sparrow does not dedicate almost all of the space on the bulletin board behind her desk to bumper stickers just to reflect on her past. She certainly does not do so to add decor to her classroom.

"Today's kids are complacent," Mrs. Sparrow says. "They come in (to Room 307) and they don't know what these bumper stickers mean."

The activist Americans who fought prejudice, censorship, pollution and nuclear weapons in the late 1960s are thirtysomething in 1990. Relatively few Harrison High School seniors have participated in community service activities such as S.A.D.D. (Students Against Driving Drunk) or the Interact Club (which promotes community service and world understanding; Harrison's chapter of this club was formed in the fall of 1989). Today, high school students are more likely to think about Air Jordans than air quality.

Mrs. Sparrow wants to teach the ways we can improve the world we live in, but she can't do that all by herself. To that end, G&G would like to spread the word beyond Room 307. Here are the "socially aware" bumper stickers on Mrs. Sparrow's bulletin board, listed in alphabetical order:

Animals need love too!
A woman's place is everyplace
Anonymous was a woman
Caution: I read banned books
"CENSORSHIP" with a red circle and slash over it
Don't just do something
Extinct species are not born again
If the people lead, eventually the leaders will follow
Love your mother
Minds are like parachutes... they only function when open
No offshore oil drilling
Nuclear weapons... may they rust in peace
Once is not enough... recycle
Peace is disarming
Peace is possible
Peace: Back by popular demand ("Peace" is indicated with the peace sign)
People not profit$
Put B-2 on the skids/Spend it on the kids
Save the humans
Say yes to life, no to drugs
Stereotypes are a BORE
Support your right to arm bears
Teach Peace
Thanks for not smoking
Think Globally/Act Locally
Wage Peace
We didn't all come over on the same ship/But we're all in the same boat!

Most of the bumper stickers are self-explanatory, with messages of peace, equality and respect for animals and the environment. A few, however, need a little explanation:

"Anonymous was a woman" is taken from the Virginia Woolf quote, "For most of history, Anonymous was a woman." Woolf was a feminist as well as a novelist and essayist.
"Love Your Mother" refers to Mother Earth; in other words, don't litter or pollute.
The B-2 in "Put B-2 on the Skids" is the Stealth bomber, an overdesigned and expensive bomber which is purportedly "invisible" to radar, but in reality is a marginal improvement over previous U.S. bombers. Erica Watnick submitted this bumper sticker to Mrs. Sparrow in April 1990.
"Think Globally, Act Locally": Thinking globally refers to global ecological and environmental problems. Acting locally, then, means doing your part in helping the world solve--or at least reduce--those problems. Only recently has this begun to become more than just an obscure catchphrase among today's students. Earth Day 1990 inspired Harrison students to form a chapter of Students Against Violators of the Environment (S.A.V.E.); its first project was a paper recycling effort, working to save scrap paper from becoming wastepaper basketballs.

(Editor's note 5-29-2010: The "No Offshore Oil Drilling" sticker may have come from 1988. On July 6, 1988, Piper Alpha, an offshore rig positioned in the North Sea, 120 miles off the coast of Scotland, was destroyed by a series of explosions and fires, killing 167 men; it took three weeks to extinguish the fire and cap the well. On April 20, 2010, the Deepwater Horizon, another offshore rig located 40 miles off Louisiana's coast, was destroyed when an oil well blowout led to an explosion that killed 11 men, led to the loss of the rig and the worst oil spill in U.S. history.)

A R.A.W. Month-by-Month Year in Review

Well, this year's A.P. English 12 class is about to become history. Here's a look back at all the fun, trials and triumphs.

(Editor's note: You may wonder why the heck I called it the Real American Weekly. First, consider the acronym for Advanced Placement English: A.P.E. Since apes are not as advanced as humans, I decided not to call it "The A.P.E. 12 Headline Review." I was a fan of Hulk Hogan at that time--his entrance theme was "I am a Real American"--and I had planned to publish the A.P. English newsletter on a weekly basis, so I called it the "Real American Weekly," or "R.A.W." for short. Oddly enough, a few years later, World Wrestling Entertainment changed the name of its popular Monday night show from "Prime Time Wrestling" to "Monday Night RAW.")

The year began as if summer vacation was still in full effect. Why? Mrs. Sparrow's summer reading assignments (given to last year's A.P. English 11 class a few months back) had been originally due at the beginning of the new school year, but she gave an extra week to finish them.

In the meantime, those 19--plus four new students--got to learn why Mrs. Sparrow was called the "Ditto Queen." The first dittos she handed out were tests pertaining to styles of learning (including the left vs. right brain test, where the majority of the class turned out to be right-brained, and the Auditory-Visual-Digital-Kinesthetic test, in which the class showed that its responses were mainly digital). Another test was based on a model by educational theorist David Kolb; according Kolb, people could be divided into four groups--Divergers, Assimilators, Convergers and Accomodators; Kolb further stated that the first group gets an idea, the second researches it, and the third prepares it so the fourth can sell it. Most of the students were Divergers.

She also began a series of Vocabulary Games, where she tried to stump the class with advanced vocabulary words. If anyone in the class knew the word, or could muster a close enough guess, the class got a point; otherwise, Mrs. Sparrow got a point. (More details on these games, an annual A.P. English 12 tradition, are available later in this article. In addition, you can learn about the words Mrs. Sparrow challenged her students with in the Vocabulary Game Dictionary, which is part of the G&G Reunion Issue.)

Mrs. Sparrow tried to recruit A.P. English 12 students for her Mythology class, as did Mrs. Brook for her Speech and Drama classes. Mrs. Sparrow was the more successful of the two; several A.P. 12 students would take Mythology. Those students lobbied for her to switch her lunch hour from A-lunch to B; they agreed on a compromise (the earlier A-Lunch Monday and Wednesday; the later B-Lunch on the other three days).

Also, Jim Cannon irritated many students with his chalkboard scratching, especially Rebecca Stern and Jodi Ping.

Paul Levine made people cringe, too, but he did so by butchering oral readings of plays. In the Maxwell Anderson play "Barefoot in Athens," based on the trial and final days of Greek philosophy legend Socrates, Levine deliberately butchered two roles--first Socrates, then Socrates' friend, Crito.

Students from the class got to go on two trips: One was to the Fisher Theatre in downtown Detroit to see the Broadway production of Les Misérables. A week later, they went off to see Lysistrata, the Greek comedy by Aristophanes, at the Civic Theatre in Ann Arbor. Harrison High did not sanction either trip as a "school event," so anyone who wanted to go had to carpool.

Todd Rope got to teach Mr. Dennis King's 4th and 5th hour Physics classes for one day. He would have taught the 6th hour class as well, but Mrs. Sparrow insisted that he attend her class that hour.

Matt Paletz rushed back to Room 307 after a Nuance Society (vocal/dance group) practice and got the rest of the class to help him pull a prank on his fellow Nuance Society members. The trick: Fool them into thinking that Mrs. Sparrow had just assigned an impromptu essay. The prank worked well enough that it put more red on the faces of Jenny Church and Jodi Ping than Tammy Faye Bakker could put on hers in a week.

Let's just say that the students were so into Chaucer's Canterbury Tales that they really didn't have much more time to mess around. Mrs. Sparrow also dug up some written Middle English, and surprised the class by actually reading passages of Middle English out loud.

Several students went off to a Quiz Bowl tournament at the Baldwin Library in Birmingham. The trip was really the first such trip of the year, since a number of students were unable to make a similar tourney in November (due to the fact that some team members were in the band and had pre-existing commitments to it). Captained by Todd Rope, and supported by a few other A.P. English students (including Matt Paletz, Dana Apfelblat, Paul Levine and Mark Rabinowitz), Harrison's team lost to Troy, beat Holly, and lost to Troy again. Quiz Bowl team coach Mr. Ray Voss was displeased by a poor "lightning round" during the final game, when the HHS team alternated between guesses of Judy Garland and Bette Davis (the category was Oscar-winning actresses).

As all the officers in Harrison's chapter of the National Honor Society were in A.P. English 12 (President Matt Paletz, Vice-President Jim Cannon, Secretary Dana Apfelblat and Treasurer Tim Story), perhaps it was no surprise that they got Mrs. Sparrow to be the guest speaker at the NHS induction ceremony January 29. She based her speech on two Greek words: Paideia (meaning education) and arete (excellence). She alluded to the Vocabulary Games that she played with her A.P. English 12 class, adding that earlier that same day, she was unable to stump Mark Rabinowitz, one of the new inductees, with "schism." (Rabinowitz was able to recall the Great Schism between the Roman Catholic and Greek Orthodox Churches, from the Medieval European History class he had with Mr. Goldstein three years earlier.) A.P. English 12 had one other new inductee, Shannon McCormick.

Here was the one and only time that students in the class got to judge their own essays. They wrote essays about a poem, Storm Warnings by Adrienne Rich, and then evaluated each other's essays. Mrs. Sparrow considered the class to be good judges, as she didn't find any real faults in any of the 11 essays she selected.

Also, Winter Break was extended two days due to Mother Nature's one-two punch of heavy snowfall and freezing rain.

Mrs. Sparrow got set to publish a new book. The publishers wanted a picture of her on the back cover, so she showed some photos to her class so they could help her decide. One odd thing was, some of the photos had been taken in April 1989, when her hair was styled differently (slicked back on the sides). Also, this new book wasn't one of the paperback romance novels she wrote for Harlequin (which never have authors' pictures).

Later that month, Mrs. Sparrow had to postpone a test on two Shakespeare plays (The Merchant of Venice and Hamlet) twice: First, the oral readings of these plays took more time than expected; second; there was a mix-up with choral director Mrs. Brachel regarding dates for choir practices, and several students were in a practice on the day the test had been rescheduled.

April started off on a roll as most of the class prepared for a trip to the Attic Theatre in Detroit on April 8. There, they saw a modernized production of Hamlet. The overall consensus was that the show was too long, but still enjoyable. Certainly, those that wanted to go, but couldn't, still wished they could have. This Hamlet included such modern touches as rock music, Levi's jeans, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern dressed as the Blues Brothers, and Hamlet balancing himself on a chair--with the chair itself balanced on one leg--during his legendary "to be or not to be" soliloquy.

The next day, the class would go over Metaphysical and Cavalier poetry. This time, Mrs. Sparrow wanted her students to read them silently. Problem was, Matt Paletz, Todd Rope and Paul Levine wanted to read them out loud. Mrs. Sparrow sent the three outside to "read to the paint," but they wouldn't exactly back down. When a substitute teacher presided over the class on April 10, those three and a few others read some John Donne poems, such as Elegy XX: To His Mistress Going to Bed, out loud. The highlight of the hour came when they sang "A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning" to the tune of "Oh My Darling Clementine."

The Quiz Bowl team had its final game of the year April 26 at Livonia Stevenson High School. Losing in the first round to Northville was bad enough, but the players also had to endure five hours' worth of Stevenson rules (no food or drinks beyond a certain area, for example).

A.P. English 12 began a battery of preparatory tests and impromptu assignments for the May 18 AP Exam, which included a review of the 1987 AP Exam. The torture would go on for roughly three weeks. In the end, 12 students took that exam: Dana Apfelblat, Jenny Church, Amy Gallagher, Carl Johnson, Paul Levine, Sonja Magdevski, John Oros, Matt Paletz, Debbie Stein, Tim Story, Erica Watnick and Kathy White.

May 10 was Senior Skip Day, so it was no surprise that only six students showed up. At 1:39 P.M. that day, the power went out and class was dismissed early (thanks to a newly implemented school policy on power failures; see The Top 5 Events Witnessed by the Class of 1990 for more details on the power failure that led to that new policy).

Both A.P. English classes (A.P. 12 and Mrs. Nyberg's A.P. 11) once again took a trip to the Stratford Festival on May 21. This time, over 40 students came to see Macbeth, the Shakespeare tragedy. Thanks to a newly-opened stretch of I-696, the bus rides didn't take as long. Before and after Macbeth, the students ate and indulged in what sightseeing they could. (Editor's note: Shopping wasn't possible, though: May 21 is Victoria Day in Canada, so a lot of shops were closed.)

THE VOCABULARY GAME

After 22 games, the score is knotted up at 42. In the meantime, here are the first-ever Vocabulary Game records (nobody kept 'em until R.A.W. did so this year):

Most words in a game:

Mark Rabinowitz, 3 (September 8, 1989)

Most words in a month:

Paul Levine, 3 1/2 (November 1989)

Most words in a year:

Paul Levine, 6 5/6 (1989-90)

Other alltime top scorers:

Dana Apfelblat, 5 5/6

Matt Paletz, 5 1/2

Mark Rabinowitz, 5

Todd Rope, 4 5/6

Jim Cannon, 4

We hope there will be a Game 23 to break the tie. Go A.P. English 12!

(Editor's note: I had expected that there would be a tie-breaker game, but there was none, so the score remained a tie. In addition, the Vocabulary Game Dictionary--an article featuring each and every word used during the 1989-90 edition of the Vocabulary Game--did not become part of the first Green & Gold Digest due to the concern that Mrs. Sparrow might put at least one more word up on the board, rendering the "Dictionary" out-of-date and incomplete. Instead, it became part of the Green & Gold Reunion Issue, published for the class' 10-year reunion.)

NOTABLE QUOTES FROM A.P. ENGLISH 12

"Cliff Note party!"

-Paul Levine, when Mrs. Sparrow suggested that the class "get acquainted" with one of the books that had been assigned to the class for summer reading

"Did you think I'd keep my eyes off that clock?"

-Mrs. Sparrow, when Jenny Church commented that she was giving them homework with two minutes left in the hour.

"He's in back with the waitress."

-David Hartman, when someone looking for The Cook's Tale in Chaucer's Canterbury Tales asked, "Where's the cook?"

"A good day at school is an oxymoron."

-Matt Paletz

"I am amazed at your arrogance!"

-Mrs. Mary Brown to Matt Paletz

"So are freshmen."

-Mrs. Sparrow, on members of the rodent family; earlier that day, a student wondered whether Mark Rabinowitz was correct when, in an issue of R.A.W., he referred to the hamster Jenny Seiler brought to class as a rodent, and Mrs. Sparrow said that he was correct

"It's like being a teen mother."

-Jodi Ping, on taking care of hamsters

"Did your car break down?"

"No, my eyelids did."

-Matt Paletz, asking David Hartman why he was late to class, and Hartman's response

"Look at all those vultures, trying to get an 'A' by complimenting Mrs. Sparrow."

-Todd Rope, as the class looked at pictures of Mrs. Sparrow, one of which was to be selected for the back cover of a book she had written