(From the Janesville Messenger, 10-21-07)
Milton High School, like many high schools, has a large rock in front of its building. This rock, “The Rock,” has for many years been a canvas for legalized graffiti. So it’s something akin to a rite of passage for an MHS student to paint The Rock.
Of course, back in 1976-80 when I attended MHS, I painted The Rock a few times. But in attempts to be more creative, my high school friends and I tried to do more than just boringly paint our class year on it.
Once, we actually tried to bury The Rock. Late one night, several of us went there with shovels and dug a hole next to The Rock. Our plan was to dig the hole, roll The Rock into the hole, cover it with dirt and then place a cross next to it. About a foot into the dig, we hit concrete. You see, The Rock is on a patch of grass in the MHS parking lot. Apparently, pavement was poured underneath and then the dirt was added. Undeterred, we rolled The Rock into the hole anyway, tried to cover it with the dirt we dug up and placed the cross next to it. The reaction from students Monday morning? A collective yawn. The Rock basically looked somewhat dirty and nobody knew what the cross meant. The change in The Rock’s height was hardly noticeable, even to those of us who had done the deed. But at least we proudly came away from our caper with a blurry photograph – which still exists – of the group posing with shovels in front of The Rock. Hopefully, the statute of limitations on destruction of public property has passed.
When burying The Rock didn’t quite have the shock value we desired, we hatched another plan – burning it. So again, under cover of darkness, a group of us went to The Rock, poured gasoline on it and ignited it. If anyone ever needs a prime example of how teenagers’ minds do not function properly, this is it. Fortunately, none of us got burned in this caper, which would have definitely qualified us for a Darwin Award for getting injured in an incredibly stupid manner. It’s almost comical to remember how we lit the match, tossed it on The Rock, and ran like crazed lunatics in every direction. In the end, however, The Rock burned for less than 30 seconds and unless you really looked for a scorch mark, no one on Monday morning could tell the difference.
So now with a daughter attending Milton High School, The Rock entered our dinnertime conversation. I had joked a few times with an old high school friend that we should go up and paint “Class of 80” on The Rock sometime, just for a lark. Well, the other three members of my family thought that was a great idea for us to do that evening.
Somehow, I had never envisioned painting The Rock as a family activity. But on the evening of October 6, it was just that. The plan was to spray a base coat of black on both sides of The Rock, and then paint my class number on the side facing High Street and my daughter’s facing the school. Well, according to plan, it was a typical Lyke family activity. My son was mad because the spray paint he had wouldn’t work. Both kids bickered about getting in each other’s way. And my daughter was unhappy that the flashlights didn’t provide enough light for her to see when she was attempting to paint her class number on her side. It certainly wasn’t like the old days.
As we were finishing up, a trio of students – including one wearing a Craig High School shirt – arrived to check out what we were doing. I certainly got the impression that they wanted to undo our handiwork later that night. I encouraged them to at least give it a day. When they saw my orange-on-black “Class of 80” proudly displayed, one boy revealed himself not to be an A student in math.
“Wow, that’s like 28 years ago,” he calculated. “What are you, dude, 46?”
Well, at least he can add 18 and 28.
Regardless, I was extremely pleased to drive by The Rock the following day and see “Class of 80” still proudly displayed for all to see. Unfortunately, the choice of colors on my daughter’s side of The Rock didn’t turn out so well, but she’s got until 2010 to take another shot at it.
As for me, maybe I’ll just wait another 27 years and see how I feel about it.
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