I Remember Trenton – The Big Rivalry

By Kim Andereck
THS Class of 1966
Back in the olden days, some 50 or more years ago and before everyone had a TV in our little town, high school sports were really the chief topic of conversation and primary source of entertainment for most folks.
In the winter and spring, we had boys basketball in the basement of the old high school building. Summer meant American Legion baseball under the lights out at Eastside Park.
But in September and October, when autumn arrived and the leaves on the trees began turning a yellow gold, it was high school football that captivated the entire town.
And with each passing game, as the air became crisp and cool, the schedule heralded the impending arrival of that much anticipated and eagerly awaited event in our little town: homecoming.
Back then, in the days leading up to the “big game,” the whole community, particularly the downtown merchants, diligently and furiously prepared for the festivities. Store windows on Main Street were decorated by the various community organizations: the FFA, the Future Homemakers, the Kiwanis Club, Lions Club, 4-H and, well, just about every club in town decorated a window.
Black and gold crepe paper streamers flowed from the jalopy antennae as teenagers cruised up and down Ninth Street. That week, the pep squad wore their black sweaters to school with a big gold “T” stitched on the front, the cheerleaders were in full uniform and the football boys were permitted to wear their home jerseys to classes the day before the big game.
The night before the homecoming game, the cry of “Snake Dance” echoed through the city streets just after sunset. Starting at Doc Yeater’s, the long line of hand-holding teenagers meandered in a long line up Main Street through the Gizmo and around the flagpole at Five Points. The snake dance went down into the Plaza Gardens and back up through Brown’s Pool Hall. The older boys led the serpentine line and the little fellers brought up the rear, whipped around mercilessly by the snake’s tail.
It was a time of unbridled revelry. I guess you could say homecoming was, in that era, a really big deal.
Now, in the days of my boyhood, back in the 50’s, no homecoming was bigger than the Trenton-Chillicothe game; a gridiron contest that was, at the time, billed as “the oldest high school rivalry west of the Mississippi.” At least, that’s the way Ray Van Meter described it in the Trenton Republican-Times.
And it was a bitter rivalry, mind you. Alternating annually between the two communities, the Chillicothe game was most memorable in the years it was played right here, in our little town.
The Hornets played in Trenton’s homecoming in the even numbered years. And the Bulldogs played at Chillicothe in the odd numbered years. That game arrived, predictably, on the same day every year – Veteran’s Day. More often than not, Nov. 11, fell mid-week, sometimes resulting in a Tuesday or Wednesday or Thursday afternoon Homecoming kickoff. Yippeeee, no school!
Now, for the Chillicothe game, even more “decorating” went on, much of it to the dismay of the city fathers. For one thing, there was the water tower. Under cover of darkness, some of the older boys would climb up the ladder with paint and brushes and print the words, “BEAT CHILI,” in huge block letters on the big tank, about 200 feet up in the air. The letters were so prominent, a story circulated about a traveler from Iowa who was passing through. Lost, he stopped to ask directions, saying, “I can’t seem to find a town by the name of Beatchili, MO, anywhere on my map.”
Then, of course, there was the Ninth Street bridge. In the dark of night, the uprights on the old steel railroad bridge mysteriously got painted with great big block letters, “BEAT CHILI.” To my knowledge, there were never any witnesses, so the anonymous painter was always a mystery. Months and months after the game, the fading letters remained on the bridge for most of the rest of the year.
The long-anticipated football game, itself, was always well attended by residents of both communities. The attire on both sides of the field consisted of the familiar black and gold, as well as an ocean of red and white. And when I say the Trenton-Chillicothe game was a decades-old rivalry, I mean it was a knock-down, drag out, no-holds-barred tussle that elevated tempers on the football field and even up into the grandstand. The fans were as fierce as the football players, with the winner claiming bragging rights for the next year, and the loser suffering humiliation for the ensuing 12 months.
Today, many years later, the final scores of most of those games are simply faded memories in the minds of the players and coaches. But the spark of rivalry and spirit of celebration surrounding homecoming in the middle of the last century, continue to live in the hearts and minds of an ancient people who lived in that faraway time so very long ago.