Prom Night was a huge event in 1960! It was most teenagers' first formal outing. Months of preparation went into making that night absolutely perfect. Looking back a few years, like 54, I am sure my parents wanted to throttle me. I would not accept just anything, not even a local boy as a date. My date was a graduating senior(college), already accepted into dental school. Oh yeah, I had my eye on the prize. Ta-da! I must say my parents were much more insightful than I. They sensed something in the young man that I didn't--innocence. Or maybe my father's reputation had preceded his acceptance of the invitation. Whatever was the case, he was most respectful.
As usual, after the prom, we went to the beach. Yes, Bethune Beach. I still had on my Southern Belle long, tiered, pink gown. He parked the beautiful borrowed T-Bird, and all four of us got out for a walk on the beach. Four? Well, he brought a classmate along to be a date for my classmate. See, all was innocent. To make it even more so, before we crossed the first sand dune to reach the hard-pack of the beach, my second oldest brother, Jimmy, drove up in Dad's white and green Olds. He didn't say much, just eyed my date real hard. So, we walked and held hands and talked about my college plans. I had already thought of several institutions that I wanted to attend after I graduated, but I really honed in on one option when I learned he would be in professional school in the same city.
So, a lot of good stuff was accomplished on Prom Night. I left with only sand in my shoes.