By Wendy Hinman ('78)

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The history of Carlsbad High School is written in her buildings. It is a strange amalgamation of decades, designs and disrepair. Memory whistles down the halls, traditions are painted in layers and her playing fields are settled in the dust of old pride. Fifty autumns have welcomed students to CHS and half a century of Junes have set them free.

This year the 50th senior class will laugh too loud in the library, tie their cleats for a final season and savor the last chapter of their own story. But for the first senior class in 1958, their last few pages were just the beginning of a very purple narrative. Most of their years they attended Oceanside/Carlsbad High School (OCHS, which many alum call the original OC). The city of Carlsbad was incorporated in 1952 and as it grew it came time for a high school of its own.

Due to construction delays, the new campus was not ready until February of 1958. Carlsbad’s frosh through seniors had started the fall at OCHS, but in classes divided from Oceanside students. They had their own teams, clubs and student body council. When the last of the construction grit was swept up and new desks lined up, Carlsbad students climbed into buses and paraded over to CHS. Bill Stromberg (’58) said the faculty and “Anyone who had a driver’s license got to drive in cars.” Vice Principal Fabrezio had to pull a makeshift band together to add pomp to the circumstance. Oceanside students lined the street to wave good-bye; the Army and Navy Academy students lined Carlsbad Boulevard to wave hello. The entire decorated town stopped to welcome home their own.

Raising the buildings was one thing, creating traditions was another. How do you make Lancers out of Pirates? Once the mascot was decided on, the colors and an alma mater had to be chosen. It was all voted on by students while still at OCHS. According to Elmer Gastelum-Sisario, it was Mr. Fabrezio who wrote the words to the alma mater. A student class handbook had these instructions for Hail to You, “. . . Sung with dignity and respect. The words are simple and easy to learn and all students are expected to learn them. Traditionally, to be sung after all games, at the farewell assembly and at graduation.”

How do you have a homecoming when there are no alumni to come home? Lancer Day was the answer to that. Judy Collins (’59) was the first Lancer Day Queen. There was a parade downtown before the football game followed by a dance afterwards. Stories conflict as to just when floats were added or when the fire department started giving the cheerleaders a lift in the parade, but the fact it’s a Carlsbad holiday of sorts, was customary from day one.

“It was so amazing, so fun,” was the way Marja Hoffman-Selna (’66) remembers Lancer Day. And to be on the court, “Was a dream come true,” she said. She was a princess to Patti Curtiss-Cannon’s queen. Cannon said of the court, “It was so fun because we were all really good friends.” But then again she said, “You knew everybody in your class.” And her sister Wendy Curtiss (‘67) added, “You knew everybody in every other class too.”

“Football was a Friday night community festival,” Ronny Russell (’66) remembered. “I loved every aspect of it; practices, pep-assemblies, the butterflies before kick off and exploding into the zone.” Carlsbad citizens rallied in the early years for “Lights for Lancers,” not only fundraising, but installing the lights on the new football field.

These were the Swede Krcmar years with assistants from Don Johnson, Buddy Lewis, Les Swaim and Carl Miller. CHS was CIF Division II champs in ’61,’62 and ’65. Russell said of the ’65 team, “We were the little team that could.” Former teacher Les Swaim said of those teams, “Oceanside had pros coming out of their ears; Carlsbad had nothing, but Swede. No outstanding names, they were just a team. If Carlsbad could just keep it about even until the half, Swede would have it all figured out and come out and kick butt the second half.”

After football season came basketball season. A gym was built in the early ’60s (now dubbed the “old gym”). Then baseball and track in the spring. For boys only. The Girls’ Athletic Association (GAA) was a club and the games were mostly intramural. Curtiss said, “Not a lot of people showed up for the games and there were no (college) scholarships (for girls).” She remembered P.E. with that adolescent trauma, “Showers were required. You didn’t get an A if you didn’t take a shower.” And no complaining was allowed by Mrs. Hartley who did everything she required her girls to do — even jumping hurdles eight months pregnant.

Lunch time helped smooth over any strain from P.E. or not knowing a geometric theorem when called on by Mr. Cohn. Before the gym was built, the cafeteria (now the overcrowded band room) was large enough to hold the entire student body. Lunches were 25 cents and actually cooked on campus. In the ’60s the legendary cafeteria cinnamon rolls sold for a nickel a piece. They were longer than your hand, taller than your mouth and better than anything.

Al Lafleur was CHS’ first principal. Swaim said of him, “He built something solid for us to step on.” And former teacher Carolyn Overbay said, “He was such a savvy administrator; he knew everything that was going on, but he was cool (headed).” Discipline kept the order of the day.

Selna said, “I once wore a plaid jumper to school. Mr. Fabrezio came around the corner and said, ‘Ms. Hoffman! That skirt looks too short. He made me get on my knees. It didn’t touch the ground so he called my mom to come pick me up.” Overbay said, “. . . and a boy’s hair could not touch his collar.” All the females, students and teachers, wore dresses. No slacks. Every once in a while there was “Bermuda short day.”

The strictness somehow made the students more at ease. The biggest crimes were smoking (tobacco) in the bathrooms and breaking curfew. So much of high school is remembered by the off-campus fun. The gals remember the guys and the guys remember the cars. Joyce Smith said, “Bob Watson Sr. had the first Mustang in town.” It was a convertible and it was purple and white! He would drive the Lancer Day Queen in it, but on regular games it was Bob Jr.’s (’66) for Friday night cruising (Jack Morgan got the second Mustang in town).

Cruising was a main after school activity and Charla Lewis-Boodry (’59) said, “Parties were a big thing. Everyone came.” Joe Angel (’66) concurred that “Parties were mixed.” There were cliques sort of, but no exclusions. “It was an innocent time,” Boodry said. Sisario said, “There was a great sense of community, camaraderie because we were so small.”

And curfew became a bit of a game. Cruising took you to Novak’s (where Vigilucci’s is now on Tamarack) or Tastee Freeze (where Cessy’s is). The Curtiss sisters lived on Carlsbad Boulevard and the beach at Tamarack was a hang out. Wendy Curtiss said, “I’d look out the window and tell my mom, ‘The police are bringing Patti home again.’ The police would walk her home (after curfew).” So many at the cliffs would go to the Curtiss’ home at curfew they started calling it “The Carlsbad Community Complex.” Cannon said, “The Barlow’s was another hang out” to end a cruise. The avocado grove at Tim Barlow’s (’66) house.

Once, when the police came into the coffee shop on Elm (where Mikko’s is now) about 20 kids were killing time at about 10:01p.m. Sharon McClellan-Decking remembered, “The police were about to take names when my aunt (Fern Ellen Yarberry) said, ‘Officer, all these kids are with me.’”

Dances too, were constant events. The Mexican-American Association (MAA) would sponsor dances. They were good at catching rising stars. Sisario said, “The Turtles performed” at one MAA dance. And Sharon McClellan-Decking remembered “Three Dog Night” right here in Carlsbad.

CHS students of the ’60s describe growing up and Carlsbad High as “magical,” “idyllic,” “heaven.” But Vietnam was as Russell said, “Always on the back page.” The larger American culture was infiltrating small town Carlsbad. The spirit of the ’60s, questioning authority, psychedelic causes, Rock & Roll was growing with the length of men’s hair. As the ’60s became the ’70s, the high school was growing and the times, they were a-changin’. But for a while it was paradise, Mayberry by the sea. •

Photos courtesy of the 1958-’69 CHS Purple Shield yearbooks archived in the City of Carlsbad History Room