Atlanta Constitution, May 7, 1989

By Hal Hayes

Echoes from one of the most celebrated decades in Atlanta's high school football history will be awakened Friday when the alumni association of Tech High School meets to honor its "All-1940s" team. The ceremonies, scheduled at the Radisson Inn at Interstate 75 and Howell Mill Road, begin at 7:30 p.m.

Tech High closed its doors at the end of the 1946 school year and merged with arch-rival Boys High into what is now Grady High School.

"Being selected to this [22-man] team comes as a very high yet shocking honor," said George Vlass [Class of 1943]. "It's an honor I will long cherish and must share with my teammates and coaches."

Vlass, a halfback who later starred at the University of Tennessee/Chattanooga, and center Gene Chandler [1943], a two-time All- SEC star at Georgia, are co-captains of the team. The squad was chosen by a panel of former sports editors of Rainbow, the Tech High newspaper. This group includes Gene Asher, Bob Argo, Rex Edmondson, Ben Ginsberg and Charlie Roberts.

"The one basic thing that was so special about Tech High," said Vlass, "was the school spirit; the love of the school. It hasn't had a graduating class in 42 years, yet it is very much alive in the memory of those who attended there."

In the 1940s, Tech High teams compiled a composite record of 47-14-2 against teams from New York state, New Jersey, Missouri, Florida and the Carolinas. In its final two seasons [1945-46], its teams were 20-1-1 and won one Georgia state championship [1946].

"It had many big rivals," said Archer, "but multiply the intensity of [the rivalries of] Tech-Georgia, Alabama-Auburn and Albany-Valdosta and that was Tech-Boys High. They use to draw 20,000 every time they played and their two games in 1942 were classics."

Boys High won that first meeting 28-14, played before 20,000- plus at Grant Field. The two were paired again in post-season in the first-ever Milk Bowl played at old Ponce de Leon Park, and proceeds from the game went to buy school lunches for the underprivileged. Tech won 14-7.

In 1946, Boys High kept Tech High from its lone perfect season of the 1940s. En route to the state championship, the Sid Scarborough- coached Tech team tied Boys High 13-13.

Later, Scarborough became the athletics director of Atlanta city schools and then executive director of Atlanta-Fulton County Stadium.

Members of the "All 1940s" squad to be saluted include: Ends - Dick Crowe [1943], Country Henson [1940], Joe Nixon [1941] and Sid Williams [1946]. Tackles - Red Akins [1940], Howard Gossett [1944], Jim Gullett [1943] and Pug Shaft [1940]. Guards - John Bond [1941], Bob Greer [1946], Fred King [1940] and George Patton [1944]. Centers - Gene Chandler [1943] and Bill McCarson [1940]. Backs - Jack Couch [1941], Pierce McWhorter [1945], Fred Mullis [1943], Bobby North [1946], Jack Peek [1944], Jack Pounds [1940], Vlass [1943] and Charlie Woodward [1942].

Five members of the team are deceased, Nixon, Shaft, Woodward, Gossett and North.

Atlanta Constitution, May 15, 1985

Tech High grads meet for reunion

Alumni of Atlanta's Tech High School gather for the first reunion involving all classes Friday at the Hellenic Center on Cheshire Bridge Road.

Tech High, housed in the same building with Boys High until 1947 when the schools merged into Grady High, was one of the South's strongest sports schools. The late golf great Bobby Jones was a Tech High graduate, as was Stumpy Thompson, a hero of Georgia Tech's 1928 Rose Bowl, and Marty Marion, who played for and managed the St. Louis Cardinals.

Among former athletes expected at the reunion are Bill Paschal, who played football at Georgia Tech and in the NFL; D.L.Claborn, Gene Chandler and Gene Asher, outstanding amateur boxer and later a sports writer for the Atlanta Journal.

Also expected is Joel Eaves, retired Georgia athletic director who played at Tech High and Auburn, coached Boys High and coached Auburn to the SEC basketball championship in 1960.

Bob Henson, an organizer of the reunion, said 450 reservations have been made by graduates from 1919 through 1947.

"We're going to have a Dixieland band, cheerleaders and a good time," said Henson. "We got a call from a graduate who is 87 years old, is driving his own car here and said he will be glad to pick up anyone who needs a ride."

Reservations can be made by calling Henson, 939-3180, or Lamar Sheats, 231-1002.

Tech High grads remember lowdown on old school

By Rob Levin

The eyes move back and forth, from the name tag to the face, as the memory tunes in, like recalling a favorite old song on a badly scratched 78.

Squinting back through the years, the hairs are replaced and darkened, the pounds stripped, the wrinkles smoothed. When the old image is finally reeled in, the face brightens: "By gawd! I remember you, old man! You know, I've thought aboutcha a lot, I really have."

There were many similar exclamations Friday night as 550 graduates of the old Tech High School gathered for a reunion at the Hellenic Community Center on Cheshire Bridge Road. It was the Class of 1920. And 1921. And 1923. And every year through the last spring of Tech' s existence, 1947.

"We decided we are members of a very exclusive fraternity," said Lamar Sheats, Class of '45. "Our numbers are shrinking, not growing."

In the fall of 1947, Tech and Boys High merged into what is now Grady High School. Except for Sheats' class, which organized Friday' s event, there were few class reunions through the years.

"We're the young ones," beamed Walter C. Lawless, Class of '47, from a corner table. Now of Marietta, Lawless echoed what others had been saying all night. "We were the finest high school in the country. We had the finest athletic program in the South."

Indeed, golf great Bobby Jones used to roam Tech's corridors, and boxing sensation Gene Asher punched his way into recordbooks.

Later, another notable name appeared. To clapping and chants of "Give 'em hell, Lester," former Gov. Maddox walked in, wearing a smile and a three-piece suit. Though he acknowledged that he "didn't actually graduate" from Tech, having only attended one year, that didn't dampen the enthusiasm of the Class of '33, whose members escorted him to their table.

Near the front of the banquet hall, an old man sat with a copy of the 1920 yearbook, The Tehisean, on his lap.

"I know it's here," said E. Gregory Griggs, flipping the pages, looking for a special photograph. While he looked, Griggs was asked if he'd seen any of classmates here. "No, not a one," said Griggs, who is 81 and graduated with the Class of 1920.

Griggs later served on the Atlanta City Council from 1962 to 1978.

After several moments, Griggs stopped. "Ah, there it is." It is a photograph of him at the Junior-Senior Prom, 65 years ago.

Two other classmates of Griggs' did show, however. One was Edwin Fincher, a long-retired engineer with the Bell Telephone System, who remarked: "If I'm around here in October, I'll be 82." The other was Charlie Brown, a former Fulton County Commission chairman who later had an airport named after him.

Tech High excelled with strong leaders

By Gene Asher

Tech High School was the greatest high school in America. I know, I spent three years there.

It was the greatest for the same reason any organization exels - strong leadership. W.O. Cheney, the principal, directed his faculty to make whatever efforts were needed to solve students' problems. Rather than kick out delinquents, Cheney and his staff worked to put them back on track, be it for college or a job.

If you screwed up, you got a second - and many times a third - chance. Despite breaking the rules, a notorious crapshooter was allowed to say on. He became one of Georgia's renowned ministers.

Another student, who appeared well on the road to becoming a junior Al Capone, was given extra-special guidance. Today he is one of Atlanta's most successful businessmen.

The principal, staff and faculty cared about the students and the students respected them in turn. They also cared a great deal about each other.

That's the main reason why 600-plus Tech High "Smithies" will fill the Radisson Inn at I-75 and Howell Mill Road at 5:30 p.m. Friday for the Second Annual All-Class Reunion.

Some 600-plus - despite the fact there has not been a graduating class in 39 years. The last was in 1947, after which Tech High merged with Boys High to create what is now Grady High School.

Tech High was a melting pot of rich, poor and middle class; of Catholic, Jew and Protestant; of Confederate and Yankee. Students came by any means - streetcar, bus, auto, on foot - from most anywhere - Northside, Southside, West End, East Lake - to get there.

Teachers knew how to motivate that diverse group of students. They maintained discipline, often using spoonfuls of sugar to make tough medicine go down.

Students were encouraged to reach for the stars. Maybe that's why Tech High graduate Bobby Jones became the world's greatest golfer. Or why graduate John Portman set the architectural style for grand hotels from San Francisco to Singapore.

A Tech High student could see the world by winning a varsity slot on any one of many athletic teams. Tech High football teams played in Florida, Missouri, Pennsylvania and Massachusetts, and the boxing teams punched noses all over Georgia and the Carolinas.

At Tech High you could learn to be an engineer or an electrician; a chemist or a woodworker; an architect or an auto mechanic; a newspaperman or a printer. You could prepare for college or the workforce. In fact, you were prepared for both.

The school had an esprit de corps. The fiery, competitive Smithy spirit was evidenced by huge turnouts for early morning pep rallies, led by the late Graham Jackson, who played the accordian as President Roosevelt's casket passed through Atlanta. The spirit was visible in the shirttail parades from old Ponce De Leon Park to the Varsity restaurant - a ritual after every football victory.

And it seemed like those parades took place after every game. Tech High seldom lost more than one football game a year. It was truly the "School of Champions."

Tech High was great because of its legions of sports heroes like Bobby Jones, Baseball Hall of Famer Marty Marion, Bill Paschal of the New York Giants and Sidney Scarborough, who took charge of Atlanta- Fulton County Stadium at its inception.

There was something for everyone at Tech High. If you were too small to play football, you could compete in your own weight class on the interscholastic boxing or wrestling teams. You could run track and cross country. Tech High even had a soccer team long before it became fashionable. It also offered chess, debating and a host of literary pursuits.

The Tech Band, 120-strong, was known nationwide and followed the football team wherever it went. Among its alumni is Eli H. Frisch, one of Atlanta's most popular band leaders.

Among the non-scheduled courses at Tech High was the art of salesmanship. For a student who did not have money for lunch or a trip to the next out-of-town game, Cheney would provide an inventory of pennants and colorful buttons that could be sold to students between classes.

Tech High gave you an opportunity to exercise courage. Sharing part of the classroom building with Boys' High, it was always a thrill to sneak up on a Boys' High class, open the classroom door, and bellow louder than a Marine Corps Drill Instructor, "To Hell with Boys' High! "

Tech High was great because it could laugh at itself, like the time the undefeated, untied and unscored upon football team went down to Macon to beat up on Lanier High. At the end of the first half, the score was Lanier 20, Tech High, 0. At halftime in the dressing room, head coach Allen Shi, assistant coach Hub Dowis and finally Cheney, the principal himself, gave fiery pep talks that would have made Kunte Rockne's seem second rate. When Cheney finished, tears in his eyes, the players were steaming. They roared in unison, "Let's go get 'em." They tore the dressing room door off its hinges on their way out.

At the start of the second half, an inspired Tech High kicked off and raced down the field with force and speed. Pee Wee Wanninger, a sawed- off Lanier halfback, caught the kickoff in his end zone and promptly ran it back 100 yards for a touchdown. The finalscore was Lanier 41, Tech High 14. Even the greatest High School in America did not win them all.

Gene Asher, an Atlanta insurance executive, graduated from Tech High School in 1946. He was captain of the boxing team.

Between 1865 and 1965, business, family prestige and education shaped: Atlanta Society

Compared to the venerable yesterdays of Northern cities such as Boston, founded in 1630, New York (1623) and Philadelphia (1682), Atlanta (1833) could be tagged nouveau. Its Society was built between 1865 and 1965 on two cornerstones. They were business and the family prestige that encased it because, even among the well-off, there were no inexhaustible old fortunes to compare with what the Mellons, Pews and Rockefellers had accumulated in the North.

"The ferries, the railroads . . . the owners of what turned out to be prime downtown lots were not `society' people - they got them in lottery," says George Goodwin, whose avocation is Atlanta's past, present and future. "Before World War II, whatever `society' there was didn't have significant money behind it."

Atlanta had been burned to the ground in 1864. Georgia lost 75 percent of its prewar wealth.

There was not even a public library until 1899. While the First National Bank was founded in 1865, it was 10 years before there was $1 million on deposit. Nearly 50 years passed before there was $10 million. (Today, there are assets of $7 billion).

Well, so what - the town had its pride, its traditions and the Metropolitan Opera Company every spring.

However, in other terms, Atlanta had something else that bore directly on the social structure that flowered during the 1950s. Between the 1870s and the 1940s, it had a schooling process radically different from what exists today.

Two small, private academies, Washington Seminary and the North Avenue Presbyterian School (NAPS), and a couple of parochial schools, were near town. Mainly, though, between 1923 and 1947, there were Boys' High and Girls' High, which were public, segregated and college preparatory.

Whether a family lived in West End or Ansley Park, its children were stirred into the same pot. Friendships that started at Boys' High, and marriages between Washington Seminary girls and Boys' High Boys, were perpetuated by natural selection into the associations that would control most of the town's business and social life until about 15 years ago.

"You women were married to the men who ran things, you screened and admitted newcomers, you mitigated the barbarism of business with an apparent commitment to social responsibility and charity," says Elizabeth Fox-Genovese, director of Women's Studies at Emory University.

The 1940s brought two occurrences that influenced the Social milieu of the 1950s and beyond. World War II ended in 1945, ushering in an age of immigration and prosperity. And, in 1947, both Boys' High and Girls' High closed, yielding to a five-year community high school system and the rise of The Westminster Schools.

A combination of the old NAPS and Washington Seminary, Westminster was from the outset intended to become a formidable purveyor of intellectual enlightenment, rendered within a Christian milieu. What was not intended, but what happened anyway, was for the school to create an aura of privileged exclusivity almost from the moment that the combined student bodies moved into the West Paces Ferry Road campus in 1953.

"We thought Westminster was snobbish," says a 40-ish graduate of North Fulton High School.

"We thought North Fulton was snobbish," says Carol Riley McDonald, who attended Murphy High in the 1950s, "but Westminster was just out of sight in every way."

"I'm more concerned about my role in the upper crust than my wife is," admits a 50-ish businessman, "and I think it's because of having gone to Westminster."

The institution acted as a catalyst in that, for the first time in the city's history, all of the designators were brought together, refined and enlarged into one body occupying one place. Where brains, status, religion, geographic origin, money and gender may not have intersected before, now they did. Other private elementary and secondary schools followed, accommodating the demand for academic excellence and/or - during the dawn of integration - for separation.

"The innumerable whites who rose to prosperity from humble origins quickly took on the airs and practices of the establishment and guarded their new status as jealously . . . as the planters of the Old South, "says historian Charles Roland of the 1950s.

Westminster's Buckhead settlement placed a finial on the Social cathedral in Atlanta. It sat there for a brief time before the edifice was shaken to its ground floor by the 1960s.

Bowing to the inevitable, private schools began admitting and, in some cases, actively recruiting black students. Today, attending a private school has lost much of its racist overtone. Connotations of religious bigotry are fewer and further between. If some people grumble, for example, about Westminster's policy that trustees and faculty must be Christians, they hesitate to do so publicly. The school accepts no government funds. Atlanta attorney F.T. Davis Jr., chairman of the board of trustees, articulates the institution's position: "As a lawyer, I spend a lot of my time defending the First Amendment' s protection of the rights of free speech. I believe that concept also protects Westminster's right to place education within the Christian context - a context in which we strongly believe."

And, parents who have their children in various Atlanta private schools maintain that the focus is education, not snobbery. "I haven' t been aware of a lot of social pressure," says one. "There's no great hoity-toity, because they mingle with kids from other schools. They might, though, have a sense that they're the best."

By Bernadette Burden

School flag given by Boys High graduates to Atlanta Hiistorical Society's: collection

A high school legacy that is preserved in the minds of former graduates will now be kept in the Atlanta Historical Society for all to see.

In a presentation to the executive director of the Atlanta Historical Society, the school flag of the old Boys High School was presented to historical society executive director John Ott by four former graduates.

The flag was presented to Ott by Thomas H. Norman, president of the Boys High alumni association and a member of the class of 1940.

"We will try to do right by the alumni and make this flag a part of the Boys High collection," said Ott.

The school opened in 1872 and closed in 1947 when the community high school concept was adopted. Boys High and Tech High were merged to become Grady High School.

In its 75 years of existence, more than 20,000 boys attended, but only 7,000 ever graduated because of the very strict learning curriculum, which included ROTC for every student in the school.

Among the school's most distinguished graduates are former state Rep. Bob Bell, Class of '46; former U.S. Secretary of State Dean Rusk, Class of '20; and former Atlanta Mayor Ivan Allen Jr., Class of ' 20.

The white and purple flag presented last week has been stored at Grady in the ROTC building for over 41 years. Now, it will be added in a display collection at the historical society with other pieces such as a football helmet used in a 1947 football game donated in 1988, and a hollow baton used to take first place in the one-mile relay of the 1942 Southeastern Amateur Athletic Union's annual track competition donated in 1988, commemorating Boys High.

Boys' High of 1912 nothing like schools of today, alumnus says

News accounts of drugs and guns in high schools are shocking to Clarence Newell Crocker. "It's pitiful; a terrible situation. I'm just thankful they didn't have those kinds of things when I was in high school," he said. When he was a senior in high school, Woodrow Wilson was running to succeed William Howard Taft as president, the U.S. entry into World War I was five years away, and the Titantic sank.

The year was 1912 and the Boys' High School yearbook, The Alciphonian, said of the student nicknamed "Nat" - "A man of few words is best." Today, Mr. Crocker, 96, will receive special recognition at the biennial Boys' High reunion, but said he still eschews talking in public and doesn't plan to respond with a speech.

More than 500 graduates are expected at the dinner event beginning at 5 p.m. in the Grady High School Gymnasium, along with some of the 20 surviving faculty members. Mr. Crocker is believed to be the oldest living alumnus of the school that graduated 7,400 young men from 1873 to 1947, said Bob Watson, one of the reunion organizers. A resident of Paces Ferry Tower, a Baptist-run retirement home in Buckhead, Mr. Crocker, a retired civil engineer, said he is increasingly disturbed about what's happening in schools these days.

When he was at Boys' High, he recalled, disciplining was not a big demand on faculty, probably because children were disciplined enough at home not to cause trouble in school. "The teachers were not too strict - they didn't have to be - but they knew how to take care of crazy things kids liked to do."

He doesn't recall what form punishment took for misbehavers, who might have talked in class or been habitually tardy, "but probably they were sent to the principal's office. "There was no corporal punishment that I know of, and no one in my class ever had to be expelled. "I think it was a wonderful school. Teachers were very dedicated and took a personal interest in every student."

Young Crocker, whose father was a traveling salesman for a piano company, played the violin, was on the Boys' High track team and a member of the German Club. One of his fondest memories of Boys' High years is of hiking with some pals to the top of Stone Mountain to watch Haley's Comet in 1910.

In those days, Boys' High was a red-brick building at Courtland and Gilmer streets, and Girls' High was a few blocks away on Mitchell Street. Only at graduation time were there activities that brought the students together, he said.

So it was usually in church programs that young men and women got acquainted. He met his wife-to-be, Elsie Barton, from West End, who had gone to Girls' High, at a Baptist church social. They were married in 1920. Boys' High had been a three-year school and "Nat" Crocker's Class of 1912 was the first to go four years. After graduating from the University of Georgia in three years, he became an engineer with the Interstate Commerce Commission and, from 1920 until retiring in 1957, with the Georgia Highway Department.

Mrs. Crocker died in 1985 and their son, Clarence Jr., a 1943 Boys' High graduate, in 1987. Mr. Crocker participates in senior activities at Paces Ferry Tower and various churches in Buckhead, and a recent examination found his health good.

In June, he plans to attend another reunion - the University of Georgia's Class of 1915.

Gridiron group tells `lies' of glory days: SOUTHSIDE

By JIM MINTER

Should you happen to drop in at Melear's Barbecue in Fayetteville on the first Tuesday of any month, don't be alarmed at the commotion in the back room. The noise comes from a gathering of sporting eagles arranged by Dr. George Patton, a former Fayette County commissioner.

"It's very informal," says Patton. "What we do is tell lies."

The group has a lot to tell, even if restricted to truth. Most of them played football together at Tech High in Atlanta when the rivalry with Boys High was on the level of Tech-Georgia.

A recent gathering included Patton, Bob Greer, Jack Peek, Dr. Raymond Watts and Dr. Bill Cullens, Tech Highsters all. Chub Jenkins was there representing Boys High, the old enemy. Also at the table were Curtis (Jug) Kell, one of the area's legendary high school coaches and father of Chip; and Billy Moran, all-star shortstop for the Cleveland Indians and the Los Angeles Angels. Some played for Georgia, some for Georgia Tech. Some went into doctoring and some into business. They share a rare camaraderie that comes from sweating together, bleeding together and knocking heads together. They're products of what sports used to be, and probably isn't anymore.

Johnny Jones brought along a snapshot of the Tech High 1942 (Or was it '41?) lineup in full pads and helmets, posed for the camera. The tough- looking hombre at fullback is John Portman, the famous architect.

"We know a lot of rich folks," said Jack Peek, who was one of Bobby Dodd's finest at Georgia Tech.

"The great thing about having Portman on the team was that he was also the head usher at the Roxy Theater downtown," said Patton. "After practice we would go to the Roxy and Portman would slip us in free."

Jones was Portman's No. 1 assistant at the Roxy. When Portman moved on to a better-paying job, Johnny became head usher and the Tech High boys continued to enjoy free admission.

Patton says the First Tuesday meeting is not exclusive, and other liars may be included.

WAR EAGLE! First Tuesday must be sports day for Judge Kenneth Melear. Not a part of the above group but lunching with the proprietor himself was Neal Dettmering Jr., the Douglasville lawyer who was one of Fayette County High's all-time gridiron greats before starring for Auburn in the Shug Jordan era. Patton said Neal can join as soon as he sprouts a few gray hairs.

FLAG FLOP: This is to announce my official retirement from the state flag controversy. Apparently, I'm more proficient in the goat business and the rabbit-trapping business. (See letters on flag flap on page J6.)

This is a correction, a retraction and an apology. I goofed. On a recent trip to Dallas, I dropped in on a shop that stocked every flag known to mankind (and womankind), with the exception of the one flown by the Third Reich. The Mississippi flag, I am embarrassed to report, is an exact replica of the one I proposed for Georgia: Stars and bars in the upper left-hand corner, with three broad stripes, red, white and blue. I don't think my flag would fly. So much for a brief career in flag designing.

GRANDPA'S STORY: Jack Griffith, Newnan's retired Pepsi man and former SEC football official, tells about his 11-year-old granddaughter, who became a basket of nerves preparing for her first tennis match. WORLD CLASS: Retired Marine four-star Gen. Ray Davis of Stockbridge was a guest of honor when Gov. Zell Miller hosted a luncheon in honor of Marine Commandant Gen. Carl Mundy, a fellow Georgian, at the Commerce Club in Atlanta. When Davis mentioned that he was born in Fitzgerald, Ga., UGA tennis master Dan Magill, also an ex-Marine, noted that Georgia's Olympic champion Spec Towns was born in Fitzgerald, and that likely no other town of that size has produced both a Medal of Honor winner and an Olympic champion. Davis won his MOH in the heroic Marine escape from the Yalu. Towns won his gold in the 1936 Olympics at Berlin.

Mundy renewed acquaintances with his first commanding officer, Vince Dooley. They were students together at Auburn when Dooley was a ROTC officer.

PEPPERCORN: Pepper Rodgers, the Stewart Avenue Kid, late of Brown High, Georgia Tech, Kansas, Southern Cal, Georgia Tech again, etc., paused from his pursuit of a Memphis NFL franchise to offer this one:

Two rich old retirees, passing time in the Florida sun. A pretty young lady in short shorts and halter rides past on a bicycle.

"Goodness!" says old man No. 1. "That's a good-looking girl."

"Yes," says old man No. 2. "She's my wife."

"Your wife? How old is she?"

"Twenty-seven."

"Twenty-seven? And how old are you?"

"Seventy-seven."

"How in the world did you get her to marry you?"

"Told her I was ninety-seven."

In My Opinion: Good faculty makes the school

By Clifford Oxford

The Editors: The article about students having to attend school in portable buildings was interesting. I went to school in a small town in Alabama for a year while my father was out of a job in the middle of the Depression. It was a very nice brick building, but after a year, I came back to Atlanta and started in the old Boy's High School.

Most of the classrooms were in portable buildings with potbelly stoves fed by the students to keep warm in the winter. When the wind blew, it came right through the windows. However, we had one of the finest faculties ever put together in any high school. One teacher had a doctorate from Yale and led our symphony orchestra in the afternoons at no charge because he loved music. It was not uncommon for students to take Spanish, German, Greek or Latin. We had a chess club, one of the few in the state. When I graduated in 1935, 80 percent of our students went to college, many on scholarships.

When the school was closed about 1947, we organized a Boys High Alumni Association. More than 500 alumni attended a meeting two years ago. We give scholarships to worthy Atlanta students. Alumni include the late and former Secretary of State Dean Rusk and a great mayor of Atlanta, Ivan Allen. The incumbent president of the alumni association is Joseph Wyant, who was a full colonel on Gen. Dwight Eisenhower's staff and is a retired paper executive. He won a scholarship to Harvard, as did two of his brothers. This is the kind of school Boys High was. It is the teacher with help from the parents that makes a school great, not necessarily the quality of the building.

Clifford Oxford is a civil trial lawyer long involved in public service. Emory Law Alumni Association named him a distinguished alumnus. The Atlanta native plays tennis three days a week.