David McCall:  

CLASS OF 1984
David McCall's Classmates® Profile Photo
Capital High SchoolClass of 1984
Olympia, WA
Blackfoot, ID

David's Story

The time has come to set the record straight. Those of you who were true friends and provided sanctuary for my friendship, are not a part of this story. Please do not apply the following to yourself or your family. I never had any compassion or value for Snake River High School. There were a handful of teachers that impacted me. But years later the total impact of a racist school district, and principal on one student must be told. I had experience with the Mormon religion more than a decade before I would be subjected to the rouge Mormons of the Blackfoot area of Idaho. This is not to include the Jack Mormons. I bought my book of Mormons for twenty five cents without being recruited. I was six or seven years old living in the Detroit area. These were real Mormons, real Mormons don’t judge others based on there free will to believe what they want to believe. My mother’s best friend was the wife of a Bishop. They were friends with my family unconditionally with respect and pride. The Bishop ask my father if my mother could be the director of the homemaking society at the church. This was unusual because my mother was not a Mormon or a believer in any religion. The Bishop was not interested in my mother’s beliefs, he was more interested in what my mother could bring to the table. Our families would stay in touch always. I would form my beliefs and anything that revolves around a single holy entity doesn’t make my radar. I do believe religion has a place in human society, but it should never interfere with government and personal choices. For those of you who don’t know the history of the United States, individuals who didn’t want to be forced to believe a specific religion, left for a free society. This is why there is a separation between church and state in the US. My first day at SRHS would set the tone for the worst two and half years of my life. On that first day in art class I was hard recruited by two very attractive students. I will not use names because the names aren’t as important as the actions they carried out. I was asked repeatedly if I wanted to go to church by these pawns, and they know who they are, JP and friend. It was thought about, but out in the hall these surrogates had boyfriends. So it was quite obvious what their intentions were. That same day a senior would give me a ride home that I did not solicit. She spent an hour in her car outside my house trying to change my ideology. Needless to say I never heard or saw her again. I am pretty sure none of you knew what my father did for work. While some of your parents, a small amount worked at INEL, none of your parents had the security clearance my father had, let alone know what was really happening at that facility. I will never forget the day my mother came to me and said “ your father would like you to put together a change of clothes and toothbrush and things to put in the car.” I asked why, she said if your father calls we need to leave, and you are not to tell anyone else. So I knew things that the community had no idea about. My father’s past employment would lead him to be the factor that broug...Expand for more
ht very specific terrorist prevention protocols to the site. Again none of you knew this. Nor did you know what my father had to do to maintain this security clearance and feed his family. And for that mater none of you knew the sacrifices he made to help design and develop ICBMs, and their launch systems that protected this country during the Cold War. I am sure that all of you are wondering if I graduated. I received my diploma the day after commencement because principal Mecham decided that because my grades from BYU were not received yet I could not attend, this robbed my parents and I of a celebration. Not the celebration of achieving a diploma that was a given, the celebration of overcoming the racists School Board and principal. If you don’t know what I am talking about most likely you were out of the loop. One day in building construction class, myself and a real friend, one that I still have to this day, decided to get under the house and smoke a cigarette. I positioned myself in a way that anyone coming off of the framework would be detected easily. I clearly observed the teacher in his green jumpsuit come off the structure at the far end. I immediately put the cigarette out and buried it. The teacher never looked under the house just came directly to the spot where we were and looked under. Upon seeing us he said “ come with me.” Our response was denial, we said “what did we do.” You see he never saw us smoking, this is fact not conjecture. I watched him get off the house and never look until he got to where we were. I know he was tipped off about our indiscretion by one of the many useless jocks, or goody two shoes. We were taken to Mecham’s office and suspended. Eventually I was suspended 8 weeks in my senior year. My friend would not receive the same punishment. My mother would not stand for this unjust behavior and demanded a review in front of the school board. The teacher was present and lied about what he saw. And when my mother asked why my friend wasn’t suspended for 8 weeks, the teacher lied once again. His statement was “I saw David smoking but imagined _ _ _ was smoking.” My friend was a Jack Morman and long time resident of the Blackfoot area. It is quite clear I was subjected to racism! My mother made the school board draft a letter stating that her son was denied 8 weeks of school in his senior year for smoking a cigarette for fear the real world would perceived he did drugs or something very serious. She knew very well her son was being railroaded. How ironic I would have to take independent studies from BYU to get my diploma. That letter will be in my book. Now, and for many years I have been very satisfied I didn’t attend graduation. My memories of most of the senior class is right were it should be, no memory that would amount to anything. I have embraced my real high school the one that I attended before the very disappointing SRHS debacle. I will never forget the day we finally moved, my mother made my father pull over as soon as we were out of the state so she could kiss the ground. What a shame, we loved Boise for the time we lived there.
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David McCall's album, After the damage
David McCall's album, After the damage

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