“Hey kid.”
“Me?”
“Yeah you. Come here!”
It was my first day as a Freshman at Bellingham High School. I was in much fear and dread of being in a new school and having no idea where I was, I stumbled into the Senior Hall. The guy who was calling out to me looked like a shady character, but I walked over to him anyway.
“You new to the school?”
“Yes. This is my first day.”
“Have you got your pass yet?”
Thinking of all the things I had to buy on the first day, I couldn’t remember any pass.
“What pass?” I asked.
“The pass for the elevator. You’re going to need one to ride it and we are only selling a few to the Freshmen this year. Too much overcrowding.”
“How much are they?” I asked.
“Two bucks, but it’s good for the full school year and it’s the easiest way to get to the third floor.”
“Yeah, I’ll buy one.”
I fished in my pocket and pulled out two wadded dollar bills. The senior in turn reached into his shirt pocket and produced a nicely printed card which said: 1969 BHS Elevator Pass.
“Sign your name on the back and don’t lose it, kid. You’ll need it until June.”
“So, you don’t have many to sell to the Freshmen? I’m going to go find my friend Chuck. He’s going to want to buy one too.”
“Ok kid. I’ll be around,” he said to me as he walked quickly in the opposite direction.
I found Chuck and explained the elevator pass shortage to him. We were able to locate our seller and purchase one for him too. I had a great deal of pride knowing that Chuck and I were holders of the limited-edition elevator passes. It would be something that would undoubtedly make us the envy of the rest of the Freshmen class.
The problem was, we couldn’t seem to find it. We walked every hallway, and opened every door, but we couldn’t find the blasted elevator. At the break between classes, we would watch as mobs of kids would walk the stairway to the third floor. How could so many upperclassmen not have also purchased an elevator pass? Finding this very perplexing, I stopped a passing Junior and asked, “Where is the elevator?” To which she answered, “BHS doesn’t have an elevator.”
So, Chuck and I went down to the Senior Hall to find our dealer. We were, as you can imagine, a little miffed.
“We’ve looked all over for the elevator, and we can’t find it. Then we asked a Junior and she said BHS doesn’t have an elevator,” I complained.
“Ok look, what she meant was that the elevator is currently down for repairs and probably won’t be ready until late December. So, I could give you your money back, or for two dollars more, I could give you a pass to the basement for access to the ice-cream and soda bar. We don’t talk about it much. We don’t want the wrong crowd down there.
I looked at Chuck and he looked at me.
“You think we are stupid? Why wouldn’t we want to get in on a deal like that?” I asked incredulously.
Author’s note: As it turns out, in 1969 there was neither an elevator or ice-cream and soda bar at BHS. The teachers in the basement smoking lounge could hardly control their mirth at the two duped Freshmen asking for chocolate sundaes. It seems to be a sick rite of passage that seniors dupe the incoming Freshmen with misinformation.
I, by the way, made nearly $60.00 selling memberships to the BHS Hot Tubs and Steam Room.
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7 replies on “The Thing About Elevators”
Oh Marty,I was sitting out in my back yard having coffee and this literally made me laugh out loud. (My neighbors probably think I’m a nutty old lady)♀️BHS seemed so very large as a freshman- and navigating the halls was a chore . Thank you for the trip down memory lane- I don’t know about you but I couldn’t wait to rule the Senior Hall…
We always understood the elevator would take you to the bowling alley in the basement or swimming pool on the roof. I am pretty sure that I explored every corner and level of that building. Neither swimming or bowling proved to be my thing, but those old cases of Civil Defense rations might have contained cans of ice cream.
That is pure genius deviousness!
P.S. In my four years there, I never heard about the soda fountain in the basement. It was obviously a well-kept secret, and I’m a little miffed that I never knew about it.
I don’t recall the year, but I and a few others were privileged to descend into the labyrinthine basements of BHS. It was a revelation, to be sure.
On another occasion a team of people in hazmat suits arrived at the school, and part of the building had to be evacuated. They went down into the catacombs and emerged carrying something large and completely covered so that we students couldn’t see what it was. We learned later that it was something that had been stored there during WW2, long forgotten and only recently discovered. Never learned exactly what it was, but the concern on the faces of faculty and staff said it was a matter of significant concern.
I always wanted to get into the basement at Federal Way High School. I imagined there must have been something really cool down there, but I never got the chance. Haha.
Another fantastic story Marty. I get so much enjoyment from your writing. Thanks again!
Thanks Steve!!!