For many, the high school memory held strongest is prom. Gone is the effort to master calculus, away with whatever Hamlet was about, largely evaporated are the nuances of the Monroe Doctrine. But from shoes to dress, tux to hair, who came with whom, danced with whom else, made out with whomever else—those details and moments are etched deep in the gray matter.
Prom season is here in Alameda. Jet Prom was April 4, St. Joe’s is May 1, and the Hornets will gussy it up on May 16. In honor of prom season, we asked some prom veterans to share their stories of what it was like for them, back then, to partake in this hallowed eve of dramatic glamor.
Katina Psihos (Artistic Director, Altarena Playhouse)
I went to Alameda High. Our junior prom was at the Claremont Hotel. My date was not a student, and was a couple of years older. I met Todd the summer before in Europe. He was from Palo Alto and mad about the ’30s and ’40s. He drove a vintage car and dressed from the era. He brought me gardenias and I had a white carnation tipped in black made for him as a boutonniere. He wore a white suit and I was in black (surprised?). As a nonconformist theater kid, I thought we brought vintage charm to the event, but we did get some uncomfortable stares. Sentimentalist that I am, I saved my prom photo and even the card that accompanied my gardenias. We didn’t have champagne, but in the spirit of William Powell or Cary Grant, I’m sure he thought it sounded good on the card.
Craig Hotti (Board President, Alameda Food Bank)
High School class of 1982. I wanted to ask out the cutest girl in our class, also the shortest, and I was 6 feet 2 inches but I had no game (as the kids say these days). Awkward, tongue-tied, and still stuttering to a decent degree when not on stage WAS my game. Her father had recently passed, so due to some weird Social Security benefits rule she had to be enrolled at College of Alameda for at least one class. Every day at the same time she would return to AHS and enter the building from the same side entrance. So my plan was to ask her when she returned to school. Four times I watched her walk in the building and four times I chickened out, but on the fifth time I asked her and she said yes. I wore a stylish chocolate brown tux, as one did back then. Prom was great. Afterwards, we and a couple of other friends drove to Santa Cruz and slept on the beach before spending the next day kicking around the Boardwalk, with about 50 other folks from our class. Never a romance, not a lost love, just two friends getting through high school and enjoying time together.
Adam Gillitt (Publisher, Alameda Post)
I went to a boarding school in New Hampshire. We didn’t have a prom, instead we had a Spring Formal. I was not dating anyone at the time, and a friend decided that instead of his girlfriend, he wanted to take another girl to the dance. I think they broke up not long after, unsurprisingly. So I took her instead, and we stayed together long enough that evening for a photo, which I still have. Picture if you will: she, a southern belle, looking lovely in her gown with her hair done just right. Me, a post-punk, not-yet-out queer with a badly bleached orange bouffant in a $5 thrifted polyester plaid suit, a matching shirt and tie, and big sunglasses. I think I remember the event more for the photograph than anything else, it wasn’t an emotional landmark for me.
Darrah Jones (Assistant Coach, Alameda Aquatic Masters)
Traxamillion performed at our prom in the city in ’09—or one of the proms around that time. Alameda High School class of ’09. I couldn’t find a date to my own prom and went with someone’s brother or something. It was fine. All I remember is that Traxamillion was there.
Marcy Voyevod (Artist)
I was invited to Crawford High’s prom with the president of the senior class, a Black man in an almost all-white school in San Diego (I went to San Diego High). We had dated a bit but mainly so we would know each other before the prom. I sewed my red velvet dress—one of the few things I still have. We went to dinner and when we got to the prom he wouldn’t dance or talk to me. Something happened, but I’ll never know what it was. I ended up dancing with my friend and her date, and ended up with her date at the end. We all went to Disneyland for the after party and it was so awkward. I dated the new guy for the summer and we broke up when I went off to San Jose State. Fifty years later, during the pandemic, I found my original prom date living in San Francisco. We started a long-distance romance and when we finally got to meet in person it went badly and, again, he stopped speaking to me. There is another long story as to why we broke up the second time but this is the very short version.
Kelsey Goeres (Managing Editor, Alameda Post)
It was about two years after my final round of chemotherapy and my hair was just long enough to curl. I’d dreamed of having curly hair at prom, so my mom took me to a salon to have it done. But because it was so short I ended up looking more like Shirley Temple than Sarah Jessica Parker. All good—I had a fantastic orange dress that I was excited to wear! It was satin and form-fitting, and made me feel grown up. All the boys in our group wore white suits, as a sort of funny fashion statement. They looked like a boy band in photos. My date and I danced through the night under Edison bulbs on strings above a lawn witnessing the beautiful quintessential central coast scene of rolling hills below lavender sky. It wasn’t until we were herded up like cattle to board the bus back home, under the fluorescent lights of the bus, that we realized the entire front of my date’s suit had turned orange! It looked like he’d gotten in a fight with Chester Cheetah of Cheeto fame. My dress must have transferred in the mist during the slow songs. He was a good sport about it and laughed it off. Unfortunately, it was a rental, so I doubt he got that deposit back.
Gene Kahane (Retired teacher)
My prom date was my high school girlfriend, a sophomore. She drove us to the Hyatt Regency in her parents’ Ford Pinto station wagon, the furthest thing from classy or cool one can imagine. I wore a powder blue tuxedo with a ruffled shirt and rented black shoes. My date wore a navy blue gown with tiny polka dots. The theme was “Color My World” from the song of the same name by Chicago. It made for a great slow dance: As time goes on, I realize, just what you mean, to me. We did not stay out all night, our parents did not rent us rooms at a hotel for any sort of post-prom party, and there was no In-N-Out for a late night burger. So when we were done we just went home. She dropped me off. But here was the coolest memory of all: My German teacher gave my date and me a gift certificate for dinner for two at the Carnelian Room before the dance, maybe the fanciest restaurant in the fanciest building in all of San Francisco. We were the only kids there and we dined like royalty.
Gene Kahane is the founder of the Foodbank Players, a lifelong teacher, and former Poet Laureate for the City of Alameda. Reach him at [email protected]. His writing is collected at AlamedaPost.com/Gene-Kahane.
