In honor of those who went to Walker High School here in Atlanta, especially the classes of 1966 through 1975. The all-years class reunion is tomorrow and it will be a great day for all the Warhawk nation!
We are the Walker Warhawks. The last generation to have lived in the Age of Aquarius. For us it was an age of innocence, of hope, of a bright future, a time where we believed in eternal youth and life. The world was ours for the taking and the halls of Walker High School were our step stools. It was a time for learning and for play, for growing and for wishing time would stand still forever. Like Camelot. We had our own royalty of sorts; the kings and queens of our student body led us to greatness in academics and sports. When our football teams took the field, our spirit and pride rose higher than the heavens. The weather did not matter when our Warhawks were on the field and our wonderful cheerleaders were doing their best to raise the limitless ceiling above with our cries of support. The band, chorus, drill team, and majorettes provided a society where geek was cool; where the lower halls met the upper. Those who were rulers over books, audio-visuals, and equipment made the halls their playgrounds and we were their admiring public.
We are the generation who learned to drive with Mr. Dill, type with Mrs. Kimsey, algebraic formulas with Mrs. Robertson, Geography with Mrs. Booher, the sciences with Coaches Huey and Patterson and Mr. Rochelle. We learned English under Ms. Lee, Hargis, and Lawler and faced the paddle under the ever-popular Mr. Beck. Mrs. Henderson ruled our kingdom from the front office, Mrs. Smith in the kitchen and Coaches Hogan, Locke, and Curtis from the locker rooms.We are the generation who could still have homecoming parades on the streets, have prayer in schools, and pledge the US flag with pride. Our small kingdom existed in general harmony and unity despite the (usually friendly) rivalries between the Grove boys and the Gresham Parkers. The world we knew consisted of the best sock-hops and pep rallies imaginable, all ruled over by the wings of our mighty Thor. Other school mascots came and went, yet Thor rose above them all. He was the symbol of Walker High School, of our generation’s desire to fly above the world and make our mark on the world.
Sadly, however, our generation was not one to escape the sadness to come. A tragic war halfway across the world claimed many citizens of our world. To others came an early passing from illness, accidents, and other causes. We are the fortunate who remain to pay them homage for making a place in our lives for such a period. We are the generation who is once again coming together, not to revive the days of our Camelot, but to remember the friendships and bonds we have. Class years no longer matter, grades have gone by the wayside, Izod shirts and John Romaine purses no longer provide status, and the height of hair and the number of awards on our jackets do not define who we are.
We are the Walker Warhawks. Even though decades have passed since we walked the halls of the land of Walker, we still remember those days with pride. Our hearts are still stirred at the thought of Thor raising his wings and hearing the sounds coming from the stands at Panthersville:“So fight, so fight, to win this game tonight.Come on boys and do your best to win this game tonight.Go Walker!”
We are the Walker Warhawks. Then. Now. Forever.