“We’ll never be 
those kids again.” 
Frank Ocean

Reading often invites us to consider things we might otherwise never think about. I came across such a challenge recently in a book titled The Story of My Life:

“Imagine your childhood bedroom. List ten objects you remember from the room, and describe what they meant to you.”

I was intrigued by the thought of visualizing that yellow room situated in the middle of our home on 38th Avenue in San Francisco. Immediately one image came to mind: a photo I had cut out of Sports Illustrated magazine of emerging tennis star Chris Evert. I had posted the image on the wall above my chest of drawers early in my junior year of high school. It stayed there until I moved away to attend college in August 1972. No, I didn’t bring it with me!

In September 1970, Evert was one of the top under-16 tennis players in the country, but most people had never heard of her. Then she was invited to play in a tournament at the Olde Providence Racquet Club in Charlotte, North Carolina. She was 15 years old. In that tournament, she stunned the tennis world by defeating Margaret Court, the #1 women’s tennis player in the world. In that same year, Court won all four Grand Slam singles tournaments. After seeing Evert’s photo in Sports Illustrated, I was smitten.

What did that photo mean to me? Well,… in retrospect, I can recognize that it was a clear indication that I was growing up. After not dating at all in my freshman year of high school, I had been invited to a junior prom at one of the local girls’ high schools at the end of my sophomore year. The young lady who invited me was the daughter of a couple who had been in my parents’ wedding. She didn’t have a date for her prom and wanted to attend, so I went with her. We had a good time, but I was well-aware of why I was there. 

It wasn’t until the first weekend of September 1970, just two weeks before Evert’s stunning victory over Court, that I found myself in my first dating relationship. Through most of my junior year, I enjoyed the experience of having my first girlfriend, even though at the same time, I encountered the joy of having my first celebrity crush.

As for some of the other objects I remember from my childhood bedroom, I would include the following: my desk; an Emerson radio; the awards I received in my elementary school years for soccer, basketball, baseball, and tennis; my copy of Barron’s How to Prepare for the High School Entrance Examination on my bookshelf; and three items commemorating my First Communion (a cross on the wall, a small statue of a small boy receiving Communion from Jesus himself, and rosary beads). There was also a framed letter on the wall from President John F. Kennedy addressed to my brother, Tom, who had written to him about some political issue when he was in high school. Sadly, that’s about all I remember from that room.

We can reflect back all we want on our childhood years, but one thing is certain. The words of singer/songwriter Frank Ocean are spot-on: “We’ll never be those kids again.”