A memory that lives in every laugh line and sparkle light—the epic Parkview Class of ’73 graduation party wasn’t just about a pig roast. It was about freedom, friendship, and the wild hope of what came next.
The summer of 1973 will always stick in my mind as the year we threw the party. We had just graduated from Orfordville High, and the whole class was buzzing with excitement. It was Bill Markee, always the guy with the wild ideas, who came up with the plan to throw a pig roast on his family’s farm. But not just any pig roast—we were going to turn that rusty old metal storage shed of his into the best damn party venue Orfordville had ever seen.
Our graduation party, held in a massive storage shed on the Markee farm, became legendary for a reason. My classmates managed to steal a pig, which we roasted on a spit. Someone had the bright idea to stuff the pig with bread dressing, and as it turned, the stuffing oozed out in a less-than-appetizing display. But despite the mess, it was delicious, and the party is one of those memories that still makes me smile. We got away with it, and that night became one of the most unforgettable of my life.
I remember showing up a few days early to help clean out that beast of a shed. The thing had been used to store boats and RV’s over the winter months, but as summer approached it was pretty stuff I couldn’t even begin to name. But we cleared it out, hauling junk away like we were on some kind of graduation mission. When we were done, someone got the bright idea to “borrow” some picnic tables from the local park. No one asked permission, of course, but we figured the tables wouldn’t be missed for one night.
Then came the decorations. Twinkle lights. Everywhere. We strung them up across the rafters, over the bar we built, around the doorways—you name it, we lit it. When we were done, that shed looked less like an old farm building and more like some magical, glowing spot where the night would never end. And the bar—my god, the bar. I’ve never seen anything like it in my life. It wasn’t just beer and wine; there was whiskey, gin, rum, you name it. It was like we stocked a small town bar out in the middle of nowhere.
Our budget covered all the expenses -but the pig. So,e classmates managed to steal a pig, which we roasted on a spit. Someone had the bright idea to stuff the pig with bread dressing, and as it turned, the stuffing oozed out in a less-than-appetizing display. But despite the mess, it was delicious,
Bill’s dad was something else. He had this idea that if we were going to party, we were going to do it safely. So, he collected everyone’s car keys as they showed up, tagging them like they were cows on the farm. And believe me, by the end of the night, you had to prove to him you could walk a straight line before you even thought about getting those keys back. I think that’s why people started setting up tents all over the farm. It wasn’t long before the yard was dotted with them, and folks were clearly planning to stick around for the long haul.
\We danced, we drank, we laughed until our sides hurt. We swapped stories about high school, about the teachers we were happy to leave behind, about where we thought life was going to take us. In that moment, with the lights twinkling above us and the booze flowing freely, it felt like we had all the time in the world.
By the time the sun started to rise, the pig was gone, the booze was gone was, and most of us were either passed out or lying on the picnic tables, too tired to move. Bill’s dad, bless him, started handing keys back to the few who could still manage to walk in a straight line. The rest of us just crashed in tents or wherever we could find a spot. It was glorious.
Years later, whenever any of the Class of’73 gets together, someone will bring up that night. It became a bit of a legend. People still say it was the best party they ever went to. It was more than just a pig roast. It was the night we celebrated our freedom, our friendship, and the endless possibilities ahead of us. And even now, every time I see twinkle lights, I can’t help but smile, thinking back to that one perfect night.
