My date was a "new girl" to Broughton. She was tall, smart, gorgeous, and funny. I was invited to her house for dinner with her parents before the dance. Her mother had the table set and I was to sit facing the large living room window. Her Dad was so cool; a retired Navy man. My brother was at Annapolis and just a hero in my life. That connection carried the conversation until I heard a siren. Wow it was loud and I noticed that outside the window was the barbed wire of Central Prison. Her Dad was also the warden and had to excuse himself for the emergency. The ladies and I finished the meal; and my date and I left for the dance. It was a scene right out of American Grafitti. I was set up from the very beginning and never saw it. What a night. What a dance. What a memory! We got home and the "emergency" was over. She was a great dancer and I had  no dancing skills. The clue was on the ladies choice. She tipped me off that she wanted to dance with another young man.. I understood the concept of mercy and granted it with no problem. After the Marine Corps, I took dancing at Appalachian State, probably for redemption purposes. It destroyed my GPA and only confirmed how much suffering she withstood. I never got to apologize but she was truly a class act.

Hey Doug,

Great story.  Remember my mom put me in the Cotillion Club when I was 13 to learn how to dance.  The class met once a week over at Five Points with a lady named Mrs. Jones in charge. I was still pretty much the little boy and a bit of a cut-up during those dance classes, and not too interested in learning how to dance.  Remember lots of pretty girls though.  And a Cottillion Club Christmas party/dance at the historic Dodd-Hinsdale House on Hillsborough Street.

But, alas, with all that training :-), I never went to a Broughton prom--a bit too shy to ask a girl back then.

There was a Central Prison riot back then in which six inmates were killed and seventy-five others wounded (on April 17, 1968). Things were likely very edgy in the prison on that Friday night of the Broughton Senior Prom.

Doug, you never told us who the girl was??

I think you visited me at my Momma's Little Art Gallery when you returned from Vietnam.

I was impressed yet horrified for you that you were so brave.

deborah