With the season of high-school graduations upon us, I harken back to when I graduated from Paul S. Dorman High School in Spartanburg, S.C., in the spring of 1973.

Although I realized the importance of graduating from high school back then, I was also anticipating a week at Myrtle Beach, S.C. That’s when Myrtle Beach had the Pavilion and adjacent amusement park, the one with the wooden-frame roller-coaster that had riders facing the Atlantic Ocean at its apex, before they plunged toward the ground to begin a fast, bumpy and twisting ride.

After graduating on a Thursday night, I and Franklin Henson, a classmate, found our way driving to Myrtle Beach. Originally, we planned to stay at a hotel. Somehow, the subject of a tent that was in the shed in my backyard came up. Well, being the fiscal conservatives we were in those days (translation: we had limited funds), Franklin and I decided we would have more money to “enjoy” our trip if we camped at Myrtle Beach State Park. Instead of paying about $25 a night for a hotel room, we figured out that spending about $3 a night for a place to pitch a tent made fiscal sense.

In other words, we would have $22 more each night to spend on amenities while at the beach. It should not take a genius to determine that amenities equated to girls. And in those days, $22 would go a long way at the Pavilion, adjacent amusement park and pizza parlors.

Franklin and I figured that all we needed was a place to sleep, a place to shower (if taking a dip in the ocean didn’t get us clean) and a toilet. The camping spot and bathhouse at the state park would provide those necessities.

We had to provide the other “necessities,” namely girls and food (in that order in those days). That presented no problem. Several groups of girls from our high school were staying at hotels along the Grand Strand. Franklin and I knew exactly where they were located, as did all the other 1973 male graduates of Dorman High School who were at the beach, too.

Meanwhile, I had been given a secret assignment by a friend of mine, Dean, who graduated from good ol’ Dorman High School in 1971. I was to keep an eye on his girlfriend, Jan, who was in the Class of 1973 with me. Dean had a job, and he could not take any time off to spend with Jan at the beach.

I told him I would accept the assignment – for a price. After all, keeping an eye on Jan would mean following her around as much as possible. I knew that could get expensive. Well, it wasn’t a bad assignment. After all, Jan and I knew each other. We attended the same church, meaning I saw her and her Dean almost every Sunday morning, Sunday night and Wednesday night.

So, it would be natural for Jan and I to hang out with each other at the beach, along with our respective friends. That’s what we did.

It’s a good thing Franklin and I decided to stay at the state park. The extra money we saved came in handy. That week at the beach was when I learned that keeping the female of the species happy usually means laying out some cash. Franklin and I did our share of that.

Well, Jan behaved herself while at the beach. I didn’t expect her to do anything else.

After she and her boyfriend were married about a year later, I told her one day about my secret assignment. I did not know how she would react.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “I had someone keeping an eye on Dean while I was gone.”

Ain’t teenage love grand?

Mike Voss covers the city of Washington for the Washington Daily News. He says the Grand Strand won’t ever be the same now that the Pavilion and adjacent amusement park have been torn down to make way for condominiums. Thank goodness there’s still a Krispy Kreme doughnut shop about every three blocks in Myrtle Beach.