The Californian advertised a New Year’s Eve rave at a San Ramon hangout called The Zone.
I am a lover of history. I am a lover of Cal High. I am a lover of the newspaper.
So, when I heard of this 50th anniversary (HISTORY!!!) edition for Cal, there was only one thing I could do in good conscience. I went to the corner of the newsroom, Room 321, and I dove into The Californian’s archive.
I read through many, many old papers to find the best highlights for you. So, sit back, relax, and enjoy this romp through the wild history of Cal through the eyes of The Californian.
I started at the very beginning: Volume I, Issue I, printed Jan. 30, 1987, 14 years after Cal was founded.
Printed on orange paper with black text, I quickly felt Cal nationalism well up inside me. But what really dragged me into a nostalgic stupor was a drag from a cigarette. The very first headline story of the paper’s history started out strong: “No Smoking, Please”.
In this story, a new California law banning smoking in schools was introduced. Administrators clamped down on our God-given right to smoke, enforcing penalties like suspension and “work detail” (very authoritarian). This was the last gasp of a free Cal, as smoking was now banned on campus. “Watering the tree of liberty with the blood of patriots and tyrants,” anyone?
But that wasn’t the first time Cal involved itself in the world of politics.
The next paper I read, Volume VII, Issue II (Dec. 18, 1992), brought a treasure trove of political insight. On the first page, a brave reporter silenced the crowds on the controversial issue of gun violence with an exclamation: “Stop killing each other!”
Tell the candidates to bring that one to the next presidential debate.
The best headline in the issue inspired me personally. On Page 2, under “Get ready for four with Clinton and Gore”, I saw President Bill Clinton and Vice President Al Gore beckoning with radiant smiles, sparking a rare sense of warmth within me.
President Clinton promised, “an attempt will be made at eradicating the multi-trillion dollar deficit.” Well, an attempt was made. But maybe nobody told Bill to avoid using such absolute language in politics.
But in the next edition (Volume VII, Issue III, February 12, 1993), The Californian already seemed sick of the new president, running the article “Slick Willy is overblown”. Unenchanted by ol’ Bill’s saxophone, the author writes, “From what I’ve read, [Bill Clinton’s] life is an endless party.”
Though I love Bill, I’d had enough of politics at this point. So, as I continued closer to the present, I found a new focus: The Californian’s wonderful old advertising.
The first ad that caught my eye was a small blurb on Volume VI, Issue III (Dec. 20, 1996) announcing “Pots for sale!” The Pacific Bell company had donated 1,500 clay pots to Cal for who knows what reason.
Probably in a solely polite gesture, we started to sell them for $8 to $15 a pop (back in 1996, $1 was worth nearly two of today’s dollars). As of 1996, the school raised $12,000 from this Ponzi scheme.
Moving closer to the present, in Volume VII, Issue I, printed Oct. 10, 1997, underneath a picture of a displeased-looking linebacker, was an ad that asked the question we’re always worrying about: “THINK YOU’RE PREGNANT?” If so, Valley Crisis Pregnancy Center can help!
The company offered “confidential” and “free” services such as pregnancy tests, medical referrals, and post-abortion counseling. Call today!
Volume VII Issue V (Feb. 27, 1998) had some real gems. The government was trying to get us young back then because it was making big promises to get teens to join: “ARMY. BE ALL YOU CAN BE.”
The ad promised “self-confidence”, “discipline”…and up to $40,000 of financial aid for college. Back when that actually paid for a college education. Brings a tear to the eye.
A full color paper advertisement assaulting the senses with a neon vomit color scheme fell out of that same issue. It was for a rave at “The Zone”. For just $10, you too can come down to “The Zone” for New Year’s Eve to celebrate the coming of the new millennium with your “New Year’s DJs” playing your favorite “hip-hop” and “hi-nrg” music. “Dress code strictly enforced.”
Enamored by the advertising, I almost glossed over an old friend in the Oct. 10, 1997 issue: cigarettes. Apparently, not all is lost for the adorers of the lovable white and brown sticks, because they were still making rounds in the news eight years after their ban.
Some of the evidently libertarian student body continued to resist the oppression of smoking. In the next story of note, “New tobacco law affects students”, a new California law states police must be notified if any tobacco products are seen, sold, or even smelled emanating from a boy’s restroom on a school campus (not to say the cops wouldn’t be called if smokers were gathering in the girl’s bathroom, however.)
Backed into a corner, the Cal patriots submitted to a life of greatly reduced risk of lung cancer. All was not lost though, because the school compassionately created a class for nicotine addicts to help kick their habit and warn non-smokers of the danger, available in the far future of Dec. 15, 1997.
As I entered the 21st century and neared the end of my journey, I noticed a trend: crime. While you may believe humanity has become more peaceful over time, I have irrefutable evidence (five school newspapers) that we seem to be on a backslide into barbarism.
After an exciting, colorful, and conservatively-dressed hailing in of the new millennium at “The Zone”, Cal started off the 2000’s with a trademark controversy in Volume X, Issue III (Dec. 18, 2000) in the article “Why was a sex offender coaching at Cal?” In this lovely story, a convicted sex offender was allowed to coach women’s soccer for four years.
The 58 year-old man first weaseled his way into the program as a volunteer, since volunteers didn’t need to be fingerprinted back then. If the district checked, they would find that he had been convicted of indecent exposure six times.
Instead, it took a high profile arrest for his possession of child pornography to get people to realize that this dude shouldn’t be coaching teen girls’ soccer.
The police planned a sting operation to get him, planning to have a “young, female officer” walk by and arrest him when he inevitably did something disgusting, but before the plan could be put in motion, he exposed himself to a random 12 year-old girl from his car.
Moving past sex offenders, we find that students have found a new pastime in Volume XVII, Issue I (Oct. 4, 2007): thievery. In the story “Campus thefts plague students once again” (“again”?), we learned that an epidemic of burglaries had been sweeping campus.
There is some serious theft in the story, like the instance when people broke in and stole $700 worth of iPods and phones from the band room. But others are just really confusing.
The first incident described is of a poor freshman, who, on his second day of school, had his locked locker broken into. A thief had jimmied open the lock and made off with two books and three binders, along with the lock itself. Why in the world would anyone want those things?
By the end of the story, Rob Ransom, the school resource officer at the time, provides some sage advice to avoid these thefts: “Don’t bring stuff to school.”
Yeah, alright, Robert.
I’d like to end this story with a bang. The Volume XVIII, Issue I (Oct. 2, 2008) story “WWII bomb scare defused” describes just about the most ridiculous story of a threat of injury possible. In this last article, a World War II-era rocket propelled grenade (that’s bazooka ammo) was dug up near Coyote Creek by Walt Disney Elementary School, because of course it was.
Students from Walt Disney, Pine Valley Middle School and Cal were shepherded away from the Iron Horse Trail as a bomb squad dealt with the explosive. There’s no definitive answer where it came from, but our old friend Officer Ransom’s theory was that some genius found a bomb in their home and decided to dispose of it by burying it near an elementary school.
From decade-long smoking controversy to the sale of 1,500 clay pots to dissing Bill Clinton’s saxophone abilities to WWII bombs being planted not far from home, Cal’s history is just as wacky as its present.
Thank you for taking the walk down memory lane with me to see just how well The Californian has recorded our annals for the ages.
