Blog 294 – 05.13.2016

One of the types of writing I enjoy most is writing tributes. Mr. Millsaps was the long time Principal of Chattanooga Central High School. Though I never spent more that a moment at a time in his presence during the three years I attended Central he did something for me during those years for which I will forever be grateful. He taught me to appreciate the spoken word.

At Central we had at least weekly and sometimes more often what was called “Chapel.” And, no, it was not a religious service although sometimes there were very uplifting speakers, singers, and entertainers of all kinds invited to speak to us. There were two aisles down the main ground floor auditorium and the sophomore, senior, and junior classes occupied those with the freshman and under classmates in the balcony. I can still remember one of the rituals at the beginning of these chapel programs was to stand and sing in unison the Alma Mater and then each of the three upper classes stood and in unison yelled their class mantra. My class’s was for three years, “We’re good. We’re great. We’re the Class of ’68.” We were the whole of us Purple Pounders but we were also identified as a graduating class. My class had two hundred sixty three students to graduate and most of us spent the entire three years together some several more years together. Over the years we had many classes together but it was at these chapel programs that we shouted to each other, to our classmates, and to the world our unique and special bond.

I have been a part of many groups small and large throughout my life none of which I am more proud of than my membership in the Central High Class of 1968. They say once a U.S. Marine always a Marine. I do not feel that way about my three years as a U.S. Army and Vietnam Veteran but I do feel a lifelong identity as member of Central’s Class of ’68.

Mr. Millsaps lined up a wonderful variety of world class speakers to talk to the student body. We had everyone from Tennessee Governor Frank Clement to a quartet of very talented and positive black ex-cons speaking to us and holding our rapt attention as they shared their best stories with us. These great speakers inspired me to find my own voice and to dream of some day standing before a large crowd hanging on my every word.

For a time I tried to be a preacher. I was actually working as an Associate Pastor at a small church in Red Bank, Tennessee when I last saw W. H. Millsaps. A near church neighbor and also former Central High faculty member, J. Pope Dyer, had convinced the pastor and I to join the Red Bank Lion’s Club and Mr. Millsaps was a guest speaker at a Lion’s Club meeting and shared with us a trip he had taken to Great Britain. Afterwards I got to thank him in person for all the inspiring speakers he had lined up for us students back at Central High.

Your friend and fellow traveler,
David White