Hillsborough High School students, or at least most of them, enter and leave the historic 79-year-old structure every day, five days a week for four consecutive years without giving its architecture and history a second thought.

On April 1, the date of Hillsborough’s Renovation Celebration, however, something felt different. Upon walking in through the school’s main entrance, students and alumni were transported to a different era.

School dances take place in the courtyard where students can get “tuned into” the sounds of Elvis. Many students can be caught playing football in the front of the school and cooling themselves in the fountain where the flagpole now stands.

At official school football games, bleachers are filled to capacity, like today, with spirited students mimicking the cheerleaders’ chorus of “Two bits, four bits, six bits, a dollar! All for Hillsborough stand up and holler!” with the added fear of “perforating their tooshes” on the wooden seats.

The Vietnam War is raging, however, and the carefree approach to life that many students cherish will soon be shattered as they “walk face first into Vietnam” with its mandatory draft.

This is the Hillsborough High School that Robert Ruyle of the class of 1962 remembers. According to Ruyle, it was a time when the use of drugs and alcohol by students was unheard of, a far cry from today’s culture. An introverted youth, Ruyle got to experience Terrier pride firsthand as the trombone player in Hillsborough’s band.

He described his high school experience as “a wonderful time, an innocent time,” characterized by respect for elders, especially 12th graders who were “a big deal” on campus and could often be caught “ratting” sophomores, a form of hazing equivalent tossing a freshman on the ‘H.’

As Ruyle roamed the newly renovated campus of his alma mater that Saturday, he felt for “sudden micro-bursts in time” that he was still a teen, and warned that students should savor their high school years for they “go by at the speed of light.” The most invaluable piece of information that Ruyle wished to pass from his generation to the current one is to “write down any and all information” that may be used to contact friends after graduation. Even at the Renovation Celebration, Ruyle claimed, the age barriers between the alumni were severed because graduating from Hillsborough “socially makes them family.”

Esther “Pete” Orr, a Hillsborough cheerleader from 1945, warmly recalled her cheerleading days as being “just great.” Pete, along with 38 other “cheerleaders from yesteryear,” donned a red and black uniform and a sign bearing her name and graduation year, which she waved proudly during a special ceremony in the auditorium, performed before hundreds of alumni, administrators, and even Superintendent MaryEllen Elia.

Led by Charnell Beal from the class of ’72, the cheerleaders formed a sea of red and black on the stage as they united in shouting several cheers alongside HHS’s current cheerleaders and dancerettes.

As Ruyle noted, being a cheerleader in his day carried such a tradition of respect and honor with it, even if the skirts did touch the girls’ knees.

They were affectionately referred to as the “big girls on campus.” This isn’t to say that boys were excluded from the time-honored tradition. Nick DiSalvo, a male cheerleader from the class of 1955, is proof of this and can attest to the pains that he had to endure as a result.

“People were not too kind,” recalled DiSalvo. He still regarded his experience fondly though and chuckled as he pointed out that he used to be able to touch his head with his feet. Besides being a cheerleader, DiSalvo proudly noted that he was on the staff of Helm literary magazine during its first year of publication.

The architectural beauty and individuality of Hillsborough cannot be denied, but taking for granted such unique aspects is easy in an age in which science and technology reign supreme.

Seeing Hillsborough through the loving and nostalgic eyes of the past students, men and women who once navigated the same halls as present students, seemed to give every brick a new sense of worth.

Chamber groups composed of band and orchestra members and stationed around the school on Saturday, performing continuous rounds of sheet music, also created a surreal sense of timelessness.

Times have changed, but for the most part, Hillsborough has remained the same as it was nearly 100 years ago, and for former students like Ruyle, revisiting the campus was still “like coming home.”