Today is myth busting day. Hang on, folks.

I shouldn’t read Facebook or Wikipedia. Obviously everything I read in those two places is posted on the Internet, so they must contain only the truth. So here goes.

A recent posting asked about the story she heard about William S. Hart high school being on a former military base and it started as a collection of World War II Quonset hut buildings.

The person asking the question also said her neighbors claimed they attended Hart High in the ’30s and ’40s and know all about it.

Well … someone is telling a fib. See, Hart High started in 1945. Much of the land and construction was donated by Mr. William S. Hart when the school was called Santa Clarita High School. The first graduating class was in 1949.

Some of the buildings at Hart may have been what was called “war surplus” since they looked a lot like the early barracks of that war but had a lot more windows. I’m pretty sure the first gym was an old hanger that was also formerly Army owned. It, too, was moved to the site.

In 1946, just before Mr. Hart died, the name of the school was changed to William S. Hart Junior and Senior High School. Seems the folks back then didn’t like “Santa Clarita.” I’m still getting used to that name for our city.

One neat little tidbit of the history of Hart High was that it had a mascot, The Indians, before it became Hart High. The students liked being Indians and didn’t want to change the mascot to Cowboys. Lucky for Canyon High School because with all the gold mining near Canyon High environs, I think an appropriate name would have been “The Gold Flakes.” Now I’m going to hear from Frank Rock about that one. Think of the great cheers that will never be heard … “Go, Flakes, Go.” No? Well I like it.

Another Hart High myth of highest order is about when we changed the school colors. I don’t care what some have said; the lettermen’s jackets and sweaters (girls too) and band uniforms remained maroon and gray until I graduated in 1968. Maybe after.

If there was a vote by the student body to change the colors, only a few remember it happening. Why the change, you ask?

The maroon color faded to pink, is the usual story given. I hold with the alternate version that two of our coaches were from the University of Nebraska and wanted red and white. The new colors are red and black with some white trim. The uniforms for band didn’t fade to pink, but we did have to wear white buck shoes. Those shoes had a marked tendency to turn green on the football fields and in parades when we followed horses.

The school fight song makes little sense now, because red and white don’t fit where “maroon and gray” used to be. We had some alternate lyrics to that tune, but I can’t put them here. Young children and John Boston have been known to read what I write. The children can handle it … John needs to be protected from such stuff.

The auditorium at Hart used to have an acoustical ceiling that was perfect for throwing pencils into. I would think that all came down in the 1994 earthquake. I would guess there were hundreds of No. 2 pencils stuck there.

Oh, by the way, that building isn’t haunted either. I shall remain forever silent on what students did in the prop room, band locker rooms and the catwalks above the stage. My reputation is pretty much destroyed, but some young ladies (at the time) wouldn’t want anyone to know. I am a gentleman. I shall not reveal any more.

But maybe the “haunting” myth came from some of the sounds made when a boy and a girl … well, you know. Just a thought.

As the Fourth of July comes upon us, I am going to participate for the first time since 1967 when all of us in the Hart High summer band would gather together and amble down San Fernando Road playing any number of patriotic songs. We once all played the same song. Nearly stopped the parade.

Anyway, I’m scheduled to have the top off of my Jeep (I call her “Betty Boop”) and have some local dignitary and spouse in the back seat. I might bring Mr. Renly, the basset hound extraordinaire. He has never been in a parade. He might just sleep through it all.

On the other hand, I’m so excited to have been given an invite … well, if you must know, Duane Harte was short a convertible for showing off the dignitaries. I volunteered and he said yes. We were both Navy and should both know better because NAVY is really an acronym meaning, “Never Again Volunteer Yourself.” That isn’t a myth, but it might be a “sea story.” Someday, if you buy me coffee, I’ll explain the difference between a myth, fairy tale and sea story. I can’t here because like I stated before, John Boston might read this.

Darryl Manzer grew up in the Pico Canyon oil town of Mentryville in the 1960s and attended Hart High School. After a career in the U.S. Navy he returned to live in the Santa Clarita Valley. He can be reached at dmanzer@scvhistory.com and his commentaries are archived at DManzer.com. Watch his walking tour of Mentryville [here].