The Alexander City Outlook

Goodwater alumni go back in time

A rich aroma of mildew and memories filled the air around Goodwater High School as members of the school’s final graduating class dug up and opened the time capsule they planted as freshmen 20 years ago.

A weathered sign reading “to be opened in 2005 AD” marked the spot teacher Otis Simmons’ ninth-grade social studies class buried their capsule in 1985. After a Goodwater backhoe scraped away two feet of earth, class members Deron Owens, Joe Russell and Arnold Simmons used shovels to pry the 4-by-2-foot metal box out of the ground.

Seventeen classmates crowded around as the three men used a hammer and crowbar to remove the combination locks on either side.

“We don’t even know what we put in it; I know we don’t remember the combination,” Reginald Hoyett said.

When they’d finally pried the top off the box, Russell and Owens started handing out plastic bags with class members’ names on them.

“Look how little I used to be!” Barbara McNeal yelled as she unfolded a slightly mildewed pair of Levis from her bag. “These were my favorite pair of pants.”

Nicholas Whetstone and John Kelly stood at a table covered with newspaper clippings, old toys and scratched sunglasses, examining the scorer’s book from their freshman-year basketball team. Tara Odom-Stowe looked tempted to try on some Honey and Spice eye shadow she buried in 1985.

“Back then, 20 years seemed like an eternity,” Owens said, as he flipped through a program from a 1985 Yellow Jackets’ football game. “But to see all this now, all these memories, it’s amazing.”

Owen said many in the class wondered if they’d remember the capsule. But someone mentioned it at the 10-year reunion in 1998, and many of the classmates have been meeting every other Sunday for the last four months to plan Saturday’s excavation. The most important part, though, was making sure Mr. Simmons could be there with them. The years took their toll on the 75-year-old teacher, but his happiness to see the class was not diminished.

“I have great memories all around here; I can remember these kids running all around the campus,” Simmons said, motioning to the cracked parking lot of the abandoned school where he spent most of his career.

Before digging up the time capsule, the class gathered in the school’s auditorium, where the Jacket’s GHS monogram was still emblazoned on the yellow curtain. There, they honored Simmons, while often cracking up at 20-year-old inside jokes.

“If you weren’t with us back then, you don’t know how much he meant to us. Some of the things you said to us,” Owens said, pausing as he chocked with emotion, “they meant a lot.”

Those 17 former freshmen, now 35, spent most of the afternoon on Memory Lane. The girls gathered around reading from a page of gossip: How boys’ kissed, who “went with” whom, and who always wanted to.

Owens retreated back to the auditorium’s stereo, holding an audiotape he pulled from his bag.

“I’ve got to know what’s on this,” he said.