The Glorious Streakers of Woodford High
To this day, the gentlemen in Versailles now abed think themselves unlucky they weren’t there, missing their one chance to join a cheeky rebellion that forever altered the cultural landscape.
But we in it shall be remember’d; We few, we happy few, we band of naked brothers; For he to-day that sheds his clothes with me shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile, this day shall gentle his condition: And gentlemen in Versailles now a-bed shall think themselves accursed they were not here and hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks. That fought with us upon this fateful day in the corridors of Woodford High in 1974.
The Woodford High streakers, a gleeful few, a band of bare-bottomed brothers, ignited a national cultural phenomenon that rivaled the escapades of history’s boldest heroes. Their infamous butt-naked, head-covered sprint through the hallowed halls of Woodford High became the bedtime story that every dad swore he’d never tell his son—but somehow always did.
This audacious display of bravery shocked the village of Versailles, Kentucky. Some residents were titillated, others scandalized, and a few downright traumatized. The sleepy Hamlet was forever changed on that fateful day fifty years ago when modesty took a holiday, leaving everyone wondering if it would ever return.
The streaking craze caught fire faster than a rumor at a family reunion, captivating the nation and sparking a worldwide movement that had everyone asking, “Why not?” Media outlets breathlessly reported on the escapades in the little-known backwater of Versailles while the rest of the world stripped down and took notes.
Before long, streakers were popping up in places you’d least expect—at the Oscars, the Olympics, Wimbledon, rugby matches, and even a Pan Am flight—though the in-flight meal remained the biggest shock. A hairstylist dashed through the Hawaiian state legislature, proudly proclaiming himself the “Streaker of the House,” thereby giving lawmakers something to debate other than taxes. The craze became so widespread that Ray Stevens’ song “The Streak” streaked its way to the top of the Billboard singles chart for three weeks in 1974.
The merry band of brothers who dared to defy gravity and good taste were never identified, but their collective courage left the world’s conscience thoroughly rattled. We few, happy few, who dared to ditch our duds and run wild became legends in our own right. For he today that sheds his clothes with me shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile, or at least very determined.
Local school board officials and the principal were less amused and demanded swift justice. Hearings were held, and the usual suspects—now fully clothed—were rounded up and grilled like hot dogs at a summer picnic. Lineups and witnesses were called to testify, but despite the familiarity of some posteriors, nothing could be conclusively proven. To this day, the gentlemen in Versailles now abed think themselves unlucky they weren’t there, missing their one chance to join a cheeky rebellion that forever altered the cultural landscape.
The ringleader of this merry band of streakers remains a mystery. He was a dirt-poor Kentucky farm boy with a résumé that read like a napkin. Still, legend has it that he eventually hit the big time in industry and finance—proving that sometimes the road to success starts with nothing but a pair of running shoes and a wild idea.
That glorious day in 1974, the sleepy backwater village of Versailles, Kentucky, was forever changed, and the merry band of Woodford High streakers became forever known as bold trailblazers who changed the world, proving once and for all that big things can come from small beginnings.
Vaughn Cordle, a member of the 1974 graduating class.
From Henry V, 1598:
This story shall the good man teach his son; And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by, From this day to the ending of the world, But we in it shall be remember’d; We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; For he to-day that sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile, This day shall gentle his condition: And gentlemen in England now a-bed Shall think themselves accursed they were not here, And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.
