TAMPA - Just before lunch a half-century ago, Wayne Williams sat in Family Life class at Hillsborough High. The top-floor windows of the school were open to catch the breeze and the full effect of the venerable clock tower, which was about to sound.

But instead of chimes, the frenetic wail of Little Richard's "Long Tall Sally" rocked the campus. "Gonna tell Aunt Mary, 'bout Uncle John, he says he has the blues but he has a lot of fun, Oh, baby …"

Principal Vivian Gaither was not amused, recalls Williams, class of 1958. "But it was funny!"

The class relives such memories as it celebrates its 50th reunion at the oldest high school in the county. Founded in 1885, Hillsborough was celebrating its 30th year in its current location when Williams and his classmates graduated.

It was the era of ducktail haircuts, dresses flared by crinoline petticoats, and muscle cars with moon hubcaps. Elvis was hot and so was James Dean, dead three years. It was after Korea and before Vietnam, and the grandfatherly Dwight D. Eisenhower occupied the White House. The eruption in Little Rock, Ark., the previous fall, when nine black students enrolled in formerly all-white Central High, signaled the turbulence of the decade ahead.

But for the kids at Hillsborough High in 1958, it was a life right out of "Happy Days" and "American Graffiti."

"The days we grew up in the '50s were the most wonderful days there were. A lot of generations say that, but I believe the '50s were the best of all," says '58 grad Sandy Ratliff Williams, who married Wayne three years ago.

School spirit isn't as strong among today's kids, she says. Many of her classmates had gone to elementary and junior high school with her, and they couldn't wait to get to Hillsborough, whose Gothic Revival architecture moved a newspaper to call it the most beautiful high school building in the Southeast.

Sandy would walk by the campus every day on her way to Memorial Junior High. "It was intimidating."

Sophomores had to endure an initiation, though a mild one. They were known as "rats" by the upper classmen. A picture from the yearbook, the Hilsborean, shows a trio of girls with the word "rat" marked on their faces.

"I miss the football games. I miss the camaraderie. I miss the pranks we used to play," says Joe Chillura, a '58 grad who went on to become chairman of the Hillsborough County Commission.

Chillura had nothing to do with the "Long Tall Sally" serenade, but he owns up to another prank. His tune, also played over the tower loudspeakers, was Bill Haley's "Rock Around the Clock." A custodian managed to stop the music before the song ended.

The late, celebrated Principal Gaither - a high school in Lutz is named for him - failed to catch Chillura and comrades. He did nab the ringleader of the "Long Tall Sally" episode, Wayne says, and suspended him for three days.

In those days, the big crimes were smoking cigarettes in the restrooms and gambling for pennies by tossing them at a wall - the coin closest to the wall won.

Oh, there was the time nine boys picked up a classmate's tiny car, a Crosley, and carried it upstairs to the second floor. Later, they kindly carried it back down.

Football and basketball claimed a huge following among students and alumni. Williams always wished he had been a member of "The Jolly Boys," a club whose purpose was to boost school spirit. The big game of the era was the Thanksgiving Day gridiron battle with arch rival Plant High.

The classes of '57 and '58 demonstrated their love of the institution by raising money to buy a statue of the school's terrier mascot, Big Red. At first, the bronze-colored icon stood boldly on a pedestal outdoors. Too many times, however, students would arrive at school to find the icon painted in Plant or Chamberlain high colors. A squad of Hillsborough commandos would be dispatched on a late-night mission to decorate the rivals' mascots.

For their 50th reunion, the class raised money to buy a bronze plate honoring basketball Coach Don Williams (no relation to Wayne Williams), who took the Terriers to five state championships, winning in 1959. Don Williams later became the first coach of the University of South Florida basketball team. The school gym was dedicated to him last week.

The coach, who died in February at age 94, was a straight arrow who never cursed, Chillura recalls. He got to know him well when Williams supervised the study hall. The coach was a bit embarrassed by Chillura's habit of drawing female nudes. Tastefully rendered, but nude.

"He'd say, 'Joe, is it necessary to draw these women without clothes on?'"

"I said, 'Coach, Michelangelo did this and no one ever questioned him.'"

The school was the center of the students' social lives. It seemed to cement the friendships of the class of '58, Wayne Williams says.

"Here, some 50-plus years later, we're still very close friends," he says. "Somebody says let's have a party, we all show up."

Wayne and several cronies joined the Army paratroopers shortly after graduation. Wayne stayed in for 23 years, serving in Vietnam during the 1960s. He eased the tension of patrols in rice paddies by remembering a happier place.

"I would think back on the fun days at Hillsborough High."

Reporter Philip Morgan can be reached at (813) 259-7609 or pmogan@tampatrib.com.