Back when I wore the colors of Bountiful High School, there was not a time, save an athletic contest, that I allowed myself to enter the wretched hive of Viewmont High School.
I did not consort with students of Viewmont High School. I did not believe anything good could come from Viewmont High School. And never did I believe I would ever have anything to do with Viewmont High School.
And now, over thirty years after the end of my high school career, I find myself attending my third and last graduating ceremony of Viewmont High school, surrounded by the Maroon and Gold, and inundated with repeated speakers praising the values and greatness of Viewmont High School.
I guess, in the light of the family that my wife has made me part of, maybe Viewmont High School isn’t as bad as I once thought.