Oh Memminger we love you so, your proud and honored name....

Oh Memminger we love you so, your proud and honored name….

Birdie was in the last graduating class of Memminger High School. It was an all girls public school that had a six foot high cement wall around it to keep out the young men. (They simply climbed on top of it and would sit on it to talk to all the young ladies.) It was probably the last one of its kind in South Carolina.(maybe in the entire South). She had known most of her classmates since she had attended Crafts Grade School or Miss McGuinness’ Kindergarten. They were sisters for life. Once a month, they got together for lunch. They would put on their best bib and tucker and hats to go try out one of the new restaurants or one in the historic district. They especially liked to go to Poogan’s Porch and 82 Queen. Both of these places were old Charleston houses that had been converted into restaurant. One of the girls had lived at 82 Queen Street when she was growing up.
When the Memminger girls got together, they sounded just like they had in high school. Their laughter pealed like teenagers and they squealed with delight when they saw each other. They never ran out of things to say. They were sisters for life and genuinely cared for each other. If one of them was in crisis, they didn’t wait to be called, they just went. After all, they were sisters at heart. Their high school mascot was an owl, a wise old bird and their sports teams were known as the Owlets. All of them sported a silver owl pin on their lapels.
On one of their outings, a young waitress asked Marion, one of the Memminger girls, about the pin. She began to give a dissertation on their old high school. She carried on for about fifteen minutes (after all, this was an important subject). The little waitress was getting antsy as she had noticed her boss eyeing her.
“I’m sorry ma’am, I didn’t mean for you to have to go into all of that. I was just wondering if y’all were the original hooters.”
That brought about a bout of hysterical laughter from the entire bunch.
Then with a straight and somber face, Marion said, “Yes we are. Class of 1950. Would you like to have our autographs?”
“Why no m’aam, unless one of y’all happen to be the mother of Brittany Spears, “ The waitress answered.
Once again a roar of laughter came from the table.
Marion said, “She looked at our big old tee heineys and decided she didn’t want to be a hooter.” “Speak for yourself, Marion, my tee heiney is the exact same size it was when we graduated.”
“Yeah, but your boobies weren’t hanging below your waist as I recall.”
“There is only one girl in our class that looks exactly like she did when we graduated,” Marion stated.”
“Who is that?” they all demanded to know.
“Betty Anne Givens. Didn’t you see her at the last reunion? She looked just like she did the day she walked across the stage to receive her diploma. Absolutely gorgeous. Puts us all to shame.” Birdie replied, “Yes I did, and I told her so. She pulled me aside and I thought she was going to reveal some of her secrets to that youthful look. I said “Well, spill it.”
“What did she tell you” they demanded.
“She told me her secrets all right. She said and I repeat word for word, Birdie, you can look just look this too, all you need is the name of my plastic surgeon”. She handed me his card. She told me, “I’ve had a nose job, boob job, eye job, lipo suction. I’ve been botoxed and skin peeled. If they can do it, honey, I have had it done.”
“Then I looked over at her husband, Paul, and he looked not a day over 70, his real age. I decided right then and there that I will just be who I am. I don’t want to outshine my handsome husband, Reed. Y’all know how vain he is.”
The laughter echoed in the room once again. That’s the way it was with the Memminger girls, friends forever. Memminger in their not so humble opinion was the best school anyone could have ever attended.
“Why one just has to look at us,” they would crow. “we are the proof of the pudding.”
“Speaking of pudding,” Marion said, “who’s having desert?
Once again, they all laughed.
You could hear them say, “Who wants to split a piece of pecan pie? Anyone?”
They all knew that if you split something it would automatically remove the calories from it. After all, most of them had big old tee heineys anyways except for the ones with the sagging boobies.


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