
Here we see the infamous "Freak Wall" at Eldorado High School circa 1976. This was in front of the Vocational building on the north end of campus. About a hundred or so yards south, in front of the media center, was the "Jock Wall." The "Stomps" (cowboys) hung out in the parking lot. At either end of the Freak wall was a set of steps, and beyond that, a shorter wall. On the west end, was the "Greaser" wall. These were the hoodlums. On the east end, was what was, for lack of a better term, the "Skier Wall," even though only a couple of us actually skied -- primarily Vance and Blane. We were a sub-group of the Freaks, though we clearly identified ourselves as Freaks. At the time, the neighborhood around Eldorado was a fairly well-to-do one. I think that people at our end of the wall were not quite in that range, and our separation may have come from that. Despite the identification by the various cultures of Jock, Freak, Stomp, Straight, etc., overall it was a classist society.
Freaks were the long-hairs. They were sort of where the Hippies went in the 70s. We were the pot-heads. We were the ones who weren't good enough for sports. Or rich enough to be doing the cheerleaders. We were too bad to be in ROTC, or to hang out with the "Straights." The Stomps wanted nothing to do with us because we smoked pot. At least for a few more years, when they were all doing it too.
Despite the hotness level of the cheerleaders, you couldn't beat a Freak chick. It was always great when we became well known as party boys to cruise through the Freak wall and hit on the girls. Not that it ever did
me any good, but still.
At the time we were going to Eldorado, it was an open-campus. You could come and go at any time. If you didn't show up to class, well then, you didn't show up and it got noted. You could smoke cigarettes as long as it was outside -- which was why we all hung around outside.
An interesting note is that the Freaks were looked down on my the administration because we smoked pot. Yet, that and a little beer or Boone's Farm was all we did. If you wanted to find the kids doing the chemicals; the speed, the Quaaludes, etc., you looked to the Jocks. You wanted the kids who were carrying guns to school? It wasn't the Stomps, it was the Jocks. You wanted the kids doing B&E's? Jocks. You want to know who was not going to jail because their dads got them off? Bingo.
Fuckers.
Not that the Freaks were innocent little lambs. We certainly worked up major Karmic debts.
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The main thing that identifies this photo as mid-70s (I assume, not having been on campus in 31 years) is the "puffy" coats some of the kids are wearing. These are not George Costanza's "Goah-Tex," this is goose-down and nylon. It made a sound similar to corduroy when you walked. What was cooler was the down-filled vest.
In the distance can be seen the faint outlines of the Tres Hermanas, the row of extinct volcanoes that run along Albuquerque's West side.