Author's note: This chapter talks about Boone and Yoast teaching another
subject. I don't know if they did or not. I'm just going by the fact
that where I went to school, the coachs had to teach at least one other
class besides their sport. Sorry, if it is inaccurate. :)
September 4, 1971
Sheridan woke up early, as was usual for a weekday. She quickly turned off the alarm clock before it got loud enough to wake Sheryl or Coach. She stretched and yawn. It was the first day of school, but that was no reason to slack off on practice. Resisting the temptation to snuggle back under the covers for that extra hour of sleep, she forced herself from her nice warm bed. She pulled on a leotard and threw a sweatshirt over it. After tying her hair back, she grabbed her dance things and went downstairs. Dance lessons were the one thing her mother made her do that she actually enjoyed and the only thing she kept up after her mom walked out. Though at five o'clock in the morning, she could barely remember why she had.
"Get off the counter, Boing-kitty,"the true grouch in her said, setting Sheryl's very spoilt house cat onto the kitchen floor. She filled the perculator with water and coffee grounds then plugged it in so the coffee would be ready when Coach woke up.
She poured herself a glass of orange juice and took it downstairs with her. The basement was her territory. Years before Coach had fixed it for her a practice area. It had a stereo and mirrors and a barre along one wall, and privacy. Everything a dancer needed.
She took a drink of her juice then set it on the table and flipped her radio on.
"Baby Love, my baby love, oh how I need your love..." The Supremes sang as Sheridan slipped on her toe shoes and got to work. She knew the routine well, 20 minutes each, ballet, tap and jazz, then back upstairs to get ready for school.
Coach was at the table with a cup of coffee when she came up.
"Morning, Coach." She paused to kiss him good morning.
"Morning, Sheridan," he replied. "You wearing that to school?" A stuble hint to get dressed.
She looked down at her leotard, as if considering it. "Well, I wasn't planning on, but if you like it, I will."
"Quit being a smartass."
"I can't help it," she grinned. "It's genetic. Where's Sis?" She changed the subject before he had a chance to reply.
"Watching TV. She's been ready for awhile now," he replied. Another hint.
"You remembered that she has to wear a dress this year, right?" In Alexandria's school district, girls were allowed to wear pants until third grade then it was dresses from then on out. Sheryl was starting the fourth grade.
"Yes, I remembered. I am her daddy, you know," he replied. "She threw a fit, but she's in a dress."
"If I know Sheryl, she'll be playing football and showing her panties by recess time," Sheri laughed.
"Nope," Coach grinned. "I thought of that too. I told her to put a pair of shorts on under it. Now, run get dressed. We have to leave soon."
A shower, a dress, and a bowl of cornflakes later, she was ready to go.
Sheryl went to Lakeshore Elementary, just a few block away from T.C. Williams and had to be dropped off first.
"You want me to walk you to your class, Sweetheart?" Coach offered.
"Coach, I'm nine and a half years old AND starting the fourth grade. I'm too old to have my daddy walk me to class." She looked at him like he was crazy for even suggesting it.
"Well, okay if you are sure," he replied, slightly saddened that she thought she was too big to want him to walk with her.
"I am. Bye, Sissy." She gave him a quick hug and waved at Sheridan before running off to join some friends going in the door.
"Bye," Sheridan replied, but she was already gone. "Don't worry, Daddy," she continued as he slid back in the truck. "You can walk me to my class, if you want to."
He laughed and squeezed her hand. "Thank you, Baby."
Sheri didn't know what she expected to see as they neared the school, but it definitely wasn't the sight that met her eyes. Protestors lined each side of the street, and state troopers had to stand between them and the buses and vehicles coming in. They were yelling and waving signs.
"GO HOME!!! STOP THE BUSING!!!!!!!! WE DON"T WANT THEM HERE!!!!!!!!!!!"
Her eyes grew wide and she gasped as she heard sweet little churchladies yelling words she knew she'd get her mouth washed out for even thinking about saying.
"Coach?" Her voice sounded small and weak even to her own ears. Suddenly, it didn't seem so silly to have Coach walk her to class.
"It'll be all right, Sweetheart. It's just a bad day, that's all," he tried to reassure her. "Once all the students are inside and classes start, everything will cool down."
She nodded though she wasn't truly convinced.
"Do you have your kit?" He asked. She nodded and held up her purse.
"I never leave home without it."
"And your medicine?"
"I'll take it to the nurse as soon as I get to class. Coach, I have everything I need. I always do," she replied. She knew he just worried about her, but sometimes all his questions got annoying esspecially when her nerves were already on edge. She hoped she had everything, anyways.
"If you need anything, you know where to find me, right?"
Again, she nodded. "Well, see you later." She stepped out of Coach's truck and looked around at all the people screaming and the state troopers and everything. It was scary. She felt afraid to go.
"Are you alright?" Coach asked.
"Um-hum," she answered. "Coach?"
"Yeah?"
"I love you."
He smiled. "I love you, too."
"HEY, SHERIDAN!" Alan called her over.
"Bye, Coach," she said as she walked over to Alan.
Alan Bosly had been her best friend for as long as she could remember. She was pretty sure their friendship started in a playpen. Them and Gerry Bertier. The three of them had been practically inseperable when they were little. Sure, she was a girl, but she played kick ass football, so they over looked that one small flaw, and made sure Ray and the other guys did too. But that was before. Now, Alan was still her best friend, but she and Gerry had a rocky relationship at best. She tried not to dwell on it though. Just put the past in its place and move on, that's what she did. Or tried to anyway.
"Man, Alan, this is crazy," she said.
"Yeah, I know. I mean, if all those folks would go away, then things might not be so bad." He agreed, even though his father, who fortunately wasn't one of the protestors, (only becuase he couldn't get away from work), was very much against integrating schools. "Come on. Meet some of the guys. They've all been wanting to meet you since that day up at camp." He laid an arm around her shoulders and led her into the building.
Coach was right, in that once classes go started, there was a peace among the students. An uneasy one, but still a sense of peace. No one was fighting, but they weren't really mixing either. In every class she went to, the blacks sat on one side and the whites on the other, with the exceptoin of the Titans who sat where every they pleased and dared anyone, student or teacher, white or black, to dispute them. That is, until she reached Coach Boone's fourth hour History class.
Caoch Boone took one look at his segregated classroom and using the same tactic as he had with the football team, he placed each student beside someone of a different race. This was how she came to be sitting between Julius Campbell and a girl named Carla Hayes. Alan, whom she would have normally sat beside was across the room, Gerry was a few seats back, and Ray was at the front of the room. Her best female friend, Jennifer Simpson, was a few seats behind Alan.
As Boone passed out books and other first day chores, Julius started talking to Sheridan.
"You're Coach Yoast's daughter, right?"
"Yeah. Sheridan Yoast, but you can call me Sheri. All my friends do." She smiled. He wondered why Gerry had called her an ice princess. She was nice enough to him.
"Julius Campbell. Big Ju." He offered her his hand, and unlike Emma, she shook it.
"Coach says you're good," she said, already knowing football was the best way to get him talking. "You might even make all-american, now that you are in the league to qualify."
"I hope so," he replied. "So, you like football, too?"
"Please," she laughed. "You can't live in my house and not love football. It's unheard of. I'd play, if it was allowed. Sheryl says she will."
"You know what," Julius laughed. "I think she'll do it too. She's a tough little kid."
Sheridan nodded her agreement as a note landed on her desk. She opened it.
Think Coach'll let you go over to Hal's after practice? Just for supper? I'd have you back early. I promise.
Ray
Sheri read the note and quickly responded.
So nice to hear from you, Ray. I had all but given up hope. I guess you were too busy to pick up the phone this weekend. How do I know that you won't get too busy tonight?
Sheridan
She watched his face as he read it. That was definitely not the response he was wanting. He scribbled something else and sent it back.
She read it.
Okay you win. I'll call you tonight.
Ray
Good, then we'll talk about a date.
Sheridan
She sent it back up the row.
"Do you really like him?" Julius asked.
She shrugged. "He's been my friend for a long time. He's okay."
Julius nodded, though he wasn't agreeing. Maybe she did have some icy spots after all.
Sheridan didn't expect to hear from Ray that night, despite what he said. But, then he did.
September 4, 1971
Sheridan woke up early, as was usual for a weekday. She quickly turned off the alarm clock before it got loud enough to wake Sheryl or Coach. She stretched and yawn. It was the first day of school, but that was no reason to slack off on practice. Resisting the temptation to snuggle back under the covers for that extra hour of sleep, she forced herself from her nice warm bed. She pulled on a leotard and threw a sweatshirt over it. After tying her hair back, she grabbed her dance things and went downstairs. Dance lessons were the one thing her mother made her do that she actually enjoyed and the only thing she kept up after her mom walked out. Though at five o'clock in the morning, she could barely remember why she had.
"Get off the counter, Boing-kitty,"the true grouch in her said, setting Sheryl's very spoilt house cat onto the kitchen floor. She filled the perculator with water and coffee grounds then plugged it in so the coffee would be ready when Coach woke up.
She poured herself a glass of orange juice and took it downstairs with her. The basement was her territory. Years before Coach had fixed it for her a practice area. It had a stereo and mirrors and a barre along one wall, and privacy. Everything a dancer needed.
She took a drink of her juice then set it on the table and flipped her radio on.
"Baby Love, my baby love, oh how I need your love..." The Supremes sang as Sheridan slipped on her toe shoes and got to work. She knew the routine well, 20 minutes each, ballet, tap and jazz, then back upstairs to get ready for school.
Coach was at the table with a cup of coffee when she came up.
"Morning, Coach." She paused to kiss him good morning.
"Morning, Sheridan," he replied. "You wearing that to school?" A stuble hint to get dressed.
She looked down at her leotard, as if considering it. "Well, I wasn't planning on, but if you like it, I will."
"Quit being a smartass."
"I can't help it," she grinned. "It's genetic. Where's Sis?" She changed the subject before he had a chance to reply.
"Watching TV. She's been ready for awhile now," he replied. Another hint.
"You remembered that she has to wear a dress this year, right?" In Alexandria's school district, girls were allowed to wear pants until third grade then it was dresses from then on out. Sheryl was starting the fourth grade.
"Yes, I remembered. I am her daddy, you know," he replied. "She threw a fit, but she's in a dress."
"If I know Sheryl, she'll be playing football and showing her panties by recess time," Sheri laughed.
"Nope," Coach grinned. "I thought of that too. I told her to put a pair of shorts on under it. Now, run get dressed. We have to leave soon."
A shower, a dress, and a bowl of cornflakes later, she was ready to go.
Sheryl went to Lakeshore Elementary, just a few block away from T.C. Williams and had to be dropped off first.
"You want me to walk you to your class, Sweetheart?" Coach offered.
"Coach, I'm nine and a half years old AND starting the fourth grade. I'm too old to have my daddy walk me to class." She looked at him like he was crazy for even suggesting it.
"Well, okay if you are sure," he replied, slightly saddened that she thought she was too big to want him to walk with her.
"I am. Bye, Sissy." She gave him a quick hug and waved at Sheridan before running off to join some friends going in the door.
"Bye," Sheridan replied, but she was already gone. "Don't worry, Daddy," she continued as he slid back in the truck. "You can walk me to my class, if you want to."
He laughed and squeezed her hand. "Thank you, Baby."
Sheri didn't know what she expected to see as they neared the school, but it definitely wasn't the sight that met her eyes. Protestors lined each side of the street, and state troopers had to stand between them and the buses and vehicles coming in. They were yelling and waving signs.
"GO HOME!!! STOP THE BUSING!!!!!!!! WE DON"T WANT THEM HERE!!!!!!!!!!!"
Her eyes grew wide and she gasped as she heard sweet little churchladies yelling words she knew she'd get her mouth washed out for even thinking about saying.
"Coach?" Her voice sounded small and weak even to her own ears. Suddenly, it didn't seem so silly to have Coach walk her to class.
"It'll be all right, Sweetheart. It's just a bad day, that's all," he tried to reassure her. "Once all the students are inside and classes start, everything will cool down."
She nodded though she wasn't truly convinced.
"Do you have your kit?" He asked. She nodded and held up her purse.
"I never leave home without it."
"And your medicine?"
"I'll take it to the nurse as soon as I get to class. Coach, I have everything I need. I always do," she replied. She knew he just worried about her, but sometimes all his questions got annoying esspecially when her nerves were already on edge. She hoped she had everything, anyways.
"If you need anything, you know where to find me, right?"
Again, she nodded. "Well, see you later." She stepped out of Coach's truck and looked around at all the people screaming and the state troopers and everything. It was scary. She felt afraid to go.
"Are you alright?" Coach asked.
"Um-hum," she answered. "Coach?"
"Yeah?"
"I love you."
He smiled. "I love you, too."
"HEY, SHERIDAN!" Alan called her over.
"Bye, Coach," she said as she walked over to Alan.
Alan Bosly had been her best friend for as long as she could remember. She was pretty sure their friendship started in a playpen. Them and Gerry Bertier. The three of them had been practically inseperable when they were little. Sure, she was a girl, but she played kick ass football, so they over looked that one small flaw, and made sure Ray and the other guys did too. But that was before. Now, Alan was still her best friend, but she and Gerry had a rocky relationship at best. She tried not to dwell on it though. Just put the past in its place and move on, that's what she did. Or tried to anyway.
"Man, Alan, this is crazy," she said.
"Yeah, I know. I mean, if all those folks would go away, then things might not be so bad." He agreed, even though his father, who fortunately wasn't one of the protestors, (only becuase he couldn't get away from work), was very much against integrating schools. "Come on. Meet some of the guys. They've all been wanting to meet you since that day up at camp." He laid an arm around her shoulders and led her into the building.
Coach was right, in that once classes go started, there was a peace among the students. An uneasy one, but still a sense of peace. No one was fighting, but they weren't really mixing either. In every class she went to, the blacks sat on one side and the whites on the other, with the exceptoin of the Titans who sat where every they pleased and dared anyone, student or teacher, white or black, to dispute them. That is, until she reached Coach Boone's fourth hour History class.
Caoch Boone took one look at his segregated classroom and using the same tactic as he had with the football team, he placed each student beside someone of a different race. This was how she came to be sitting between Julius Campbell and a girl named Carla Hayes. Alan, whom she would have normally sat beside was across the room, Gerry was a few seats back, and Ray was at the front of the room. Her best female friend, Jennifer Simpson, was a few seats behind Alan.
As Boone passed out books and other first day chores, Julius started talking to Sheridan.
"You're Coach Yoast's daughter, right?"
"Yeah. Sheridan Yoast, but you can call me Sheri. All my friends do." She smiled. He wondered why Gerry had called her an ice princess. She was nice enough to him.
"Julius Campbell. Big Ju." He offered her his hand, and unlike Emma, she shook it.
"Coach says you're good," she said, already knowing football was the best way to get him talking. "You might even make all-american, now that you are in the league to qualify."
"I hope so," he replied. "So, you like football, too?"
"Please," she laughed. "You can't live in my house and not love football. It's unheard of. I'd play, if it was allowed. Sheryl says she will."
"You know what," Julius laughed. "I think she'll do it too. She's a tough little kid."
Sheridan nodded her agreement as a note landed on her desk. She opened it.
Think Coach'll let you go over to Hal's after practice? Just for supper? I'd have you back early. I promise.
Ray
Sheri read the note and quickly responded.
So nice to hear from you, Ray. I had all but given up hope. I guess you were too busy to pick up the phone this weekend. How do I know that you won't get too busy tonight?
Sheridan
She watched his face as he read it. That was definitely not the response he was wanting. He scribbled something else and sent it back.
She read it.
Okay you win. I'll call you tonight.
Ray
Good, then we'll talk about a date.
Sheridan
She sent it back up the row.
"Do you really like him?" Julius asked.
She shrugged. "He's been my friend for a long time. He's okay."
Julius nodded, though he wasn't agreeing. Maybe she did have some icy spots after all.
Sheridan didn't expect to hear from Ray that night, despite what he said. But, then he did.