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"You better recognize," the crowd chanted while waving their hands in the air and doing the Marshall Strut to the beat of Funky Big Band, the dance hit by Janet Jackson. It was Homecoming and Malcolm Tate had just scored again, increasing Marshalls lead to 21-3 over East Crenshaw. Four minutes left until half time and the homecoming festivities. Sitting in the bleachers, always on the fourth row behind the 50-yard line, sat Micah and Nona Henderson, anxiously awaiting the coronation of Miss Marshall High. Their "Baby Girl", Chenelle, was practically guaranteed to wear that honor after tonight.
Although the Henderson name had been associated with Marshall football for the last 10 years, this was the first time a Henderson wasn't actually suited up and playing. Her three older brothers had been football standouts and until this year she'd been a cheerleader. Hearing the staccato TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT of the snare drums, followed by the thunderous bass drum roll, the Hendersons listened for the clash of the cymbals, which would coincide with the ensuing kick-off. Kenyan, their youngest child, brandished these noisy instruments with both dread and pride, being a freshman member of the High Steppin' Marshall Panthers.
"Boom" went the bass and the football sailed through the air tumbling end over end. East Crenshaw's return specialist, Lavell Morris, looked up field planning his route as his teammates began to form a wall on the right hash mark. Touted as the next Eric Metcalf or Deion Sanders, Lavell had the potential to "go all the way" at least once a game.
Marshall's kick-off coverage team was the best one in the conference and was determined to remain so. "He ain't all that," Eric (Foots) Prater encouraged his teammates before putting all he had into the oblong piece of leather now tumbling through the air.
"Lavell Morris is on the, Crenshaw two yard-line. Will he make it 21-9?," the Marshall announcer asked mockingly. "Here we go..., here we go, here we go, here we go!," the Tiger fans began chanting as number 21 cut right toward his wall of blockers. "He's at the 10, cuts across field to the 15, up the left hash mark; he's at the 20! He might do it people ... !," the announcer warned with a mixture of concern and sarcasm.
Those in the bleachers on the visitors side of the field stood and began to wave the maize and black streamers as the Tiger cheerleaders and mascot led them in the cheer "S-C-O-R-E, SCORE-SCORE!" "Deion Sanders better watch out!,11 the announcer continued his harangue as Lavell spun away from Mason Cole, #91, who was attempting to wrap him up at the knees. "He cuts right at the 22, he's going ... " Just as suddenly as Lavell turned up-field he felt himself being lifted off his feet and propelled backward. The air left his body as he hit the ground.
Hearing what he thought to be a thunder clap, he opened his eyes to see Damon Edwards, #95, standing over him with his helmet raised in the air.
When Kenyan saw Mason Cole had Lavell in his grasp, he stood-anticipating the crushing hit soon to be delivered by Damon. Following his lead, the rest of the cymbal section stood ready to do a "ripple." When Lavell's feet came off the ground the cymbals clashed one after the other until the sound reverberated throughout the stadium. The Marshall band and student body stood, pointed across the field, and chided the East Crenshaw fans, "DON'T BELIEVE THE HYPE." Mason Cole pulled his helmet off as he ran over to congratulate Damon. He wore his hair pulled into a ponytail behind his head, yet cut close, just above the ears, extending to the nape of the neck. He and Damon were inseparable during football season; a salt and pepper tandem, Damon nicknamed "Demonseed" and Mason nicknamed "Spawn." "Way to stay at horne fellas," Coach Hawk congratulated his two hellions when they reached the sidelines. The half would end with Damon being run down from behind after recovering a fumble, and then stripped of the ball at the four yard line by none other than Lavell Morris. Half-time score: 21-3. The band played "Isn't She Lovely?" as the six beautiful young ladies were ecorted from alternating end zones. Each was greeted with cheers, while a brief bio was read describing the unique qualities for which she'd been nominated for this esteemed honor. Each beamed radiantly, smiling at the crowd and trying to see their families through the glaring stadium lights. Each bubbled, relishing the feel of the violet carpet of mock roses crushing beneath her feet on her way to the stage majestically placed in the center of the field. "Ladies, gentlemen, alumni, and Marshall High students; please join me in singing the Marshall High Alma Mater, after which we will crown MISS MARSHALL HIGH 1994-95!," announced Mr. Marksbury, the principal, himself a 1965 graduate of the then segregated Bradford High. The stadium was abuzz throughout the last stanza of the alma mater as the questions, "who did you vote for?" and "who do you think won?," were asked by students, parents, and alumni alike. "Pride, Equality, and Justice always and forever," the crowd finished singing. The trumpets announced the moment all were waiting for. "Will the 3 parents of these beautiful young ladies please stand?," Mr. Marksbury began. "we, the faculty, alumni, and student body thank and commend you for the fine job you've done with your daughters, trusting us to fulfill our part of the contract to provide them with the tools and knowledge to be the women of tomorrow and the best at whatever endeavor they may choose for their future. While there will only be one queen crowned this evening, they are all winners. Once again, we applaud you and thank you for being part of the Marshall High family!." The crowd applauded. "Nona, you're about to break my fingers, baby!," Micah cautioned as she squeezed his hand anxiously. The chorus sang "Black Butterfly" by Sounds of Blackness. Upon the finish of Black Butterfly, the stadium was silent and still. Chenelle reached out to hold the hands of Monica Braxton and Amina Thompson on her right and left and they in turn reached out to the young ladies standing beside them. With the angelic timbre of the French horn in the background came the announcement, "Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you CHENELLE LATRICE HENDERSON, MISS MARSHALL HIGH 1994-95." Although Micah had promised Nona he'd behave if Chenelle won, he stood and shouted, pumping his fist into the air. Monica was first to graciously kiss Chenelle, then Amina and the three remaining nominees. Heike Graham, the seemingly only white nominee was last, giving her an encouraging "you go girl!" before leaving the stage. Chenelle was escorted offstage to the music of Whitney Houston singing "I'm Every Woman." Marshall High went on to win 42-20. The band played "You Can't Touch This" as the bleachers began to empty and the players headed to their respective locker rooms. Kadeem was a bright young man set on attending Howard University to major in Political Science. He had been part of the student government these last three years. Starting as class treasurer in his sophomore year, he rose to vice president as a junior, finally ascending to student council president, this his last and senior year at Marshall High. Tonight, however, Kadeem was both Chenelle's escort and date. He'd waited six years for this honor. Kadeem had first set eyes on Chenelle the first day of sixth grade at Banneker Elementary. Her hair was corn-rowed in braids that fell just below her shoulder complemented by a beautifully ornate pattern of beads. Her face so smooth, without blemish, pretty and black: legs long and supple; body displaying subtle hints of the young lady who was now Homecoming Queen. They would talk about how he was afraid to speak to her because of her three older brothers, how he didn't know what to say to impress somebody as cute as she was. One incident he particularly remembered was the story of how her oldest brother, Levar, yanked a boy out of an apple tree because the little fella didn't believe it was "her" tree. "Yeah, you could say I had my bodyguards back in those days!," Chenelle laughed. Sharing the table with Kadeem and Chenelle were Andrea (Cookie) Tisdale and Malik Hammond, Jacques Styles and LaTonya Walker; and filling out the group was Veronica Sapp, who sat next to an empty chair waiting for the arrival of her date, Malcolm Tate, the hero of the evening who scored three touchdowns. The girls first met in the second grade and were best friends to this day. As eight graders they were runners-up in the local McDonald's Double-Dutch competition. With newness of High School 5 and the diversity of extra-curricular activities they would end up pursuing different venues such as majorettes (IDrea), cheer-leading (Chenelle), track and field (Roni) and basketball (LaTonya). This year, their last year, they would combine their talents once again to become the nucleus of the girls track team. Just like the old days. Looking across the ballroom, Tonya was the first to spot Malcolm coming toward their table. "Roni .. ," LaTonya teased, " ... you know you gotta reward Malcolm for being a hero tonight. Jacques is going to be a happy roughneck tonight and he didnlt even play!" Looking over at Jacques she mouthed "not really." "I ain't the girl, girlfriend ...," Roni countered. "I don't need the pressure of no baby while I'm going to college and trying out for the Olympic team." "Olympics ... ?," Cookie laughed. " ... and what you gonna do when you get there?" "Set a world record!" 'Roni answered emphatically raising her right hand as though she was testifying. "You go girl! ... , "Chenelle put in, " ... chaste until I say 'I do'. Tonya, you know your daddy would kill you for talking about a roughneck. "Malik, Kadeem and Jacques looked at each other, threw up their hands feigning disappointment and laughed. Each of the young men knew the young ladies were right. Although the statistics on black teen-age pregnancies were exaggerated compared to other races, there were still too many. Each had made a conscious decision to wait until they were men to be a man. Malcolm tiptoed to the table behind Veronica, kissing her on the right cheek.