On the morning of Friday, January 29, 1971, in the jagged teeth of that white shark known as a midwinter, Midwestern storm, a hardy but ill‑fated expedition, a two‑bus caravan, departed the grounds of Maine Township High School West and vanished into the polar invisibility, bound for Who‑Knew‑What?

The occasion was the primordial field trip of that Historic First known as Maine West's Humanities course. The pioneers were nearly 100 students, four teachers, and two United Motor Coach operators. Their mission, two months in the planfling stages and unalterable regardless of external conditions: to visit several contemporary art galleries in the North Michigan Avenue area and to attend a matinee concert of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra at Orchestra Hall. As the twin vehicles sloshed slowly through the cottony haze of the Kennedy Expressway, the entire project resembled "Mission Impossible."

The fantastic spirit that distinguishes the Maine West body transformed the day into Mission Inevitable and Mission Profitable.

After delays both unavoidable and avoidable, with soaked footwear and snowdrenched stringy hair, the expedition reached its first destination. Flooded curbs being impossible to hurdle, the pioneers waded from one gallery to another and resumed that priceless pastime known as "getting an education."

Lunch consisted of balancing sandwiches, cookies, thermoses, pop‑top cylinders, and paper sacks upon frozen laps while the buses caromed along icy and slushy ruts southbound on Michigan. Those who had their sandwiches dry had less juggling to negotiate.

In that topmost deck of seats that tilted a dizzying 70 degrees toward the Orchestra hall stage, circulation was slowly returning to dampened feet; ears and fingertips were losing numbness.

Fate was to deal one final blow to the expedition. On the return journey, at the Eisenhower entrance ramp to the Kennedy, one bus had a flat. Its occupants crammed into the sole surviving vehicle for the tortuous rush‑hour plod back to that home base we call the Concourse.

Little was said as the tired troupe disembarked. Darkness had long since descended upon the Central Time Zone. "Just another" field trip had come to a colorless closing.

So what? Why such a lengthy article about such a minor subject? Here's what ‑ and here's why.

The reporter, with considerable backing in agreement, feels that the trip should stand as a tribute, maybe even a monument, to high school field trips coast‑to‑coast. Not that we did such spectacular deeds anyone can visit an art gallery or hear a concert ‑ but what especially distinguishes the participants is their relentless willingness to benefit from the whole experience in spite of a discouraging start.

No, this is not an article about a bunch of squares. The true squares wouldn't have had the toughness to become involved and to help keep morale high. This article is about a special breed that proves that today's teens are better than any of the past ‑ and anyone can find them ‑right here at West.

Humanities team:
D. Johnson (Art)
D. Barnes (Social Science)
G. Anderson (Music)
J. Graef (Literature)