Corvallis, Montana

Homecoming Head Honcho by Brooke Andrus

Just call him the Tasmanian Blue Devil.

Because on homecoming Friday at Corvallis High School, senior student body president Andrew Wiencek was moving so fast, he was almost a blur.

From working his charm to recruit dance chaperones, to rallying school spirit among his peers as the leader of two pep assemblies, to crowning the homecoming royalty amid the cheers of a crowd of Corvallis students and community members, Wiencek handled the many pressures of his job like a true pro.

Life at the Wiencek household began bright and early on the morning of Oct. 3—as it does most school days. This particular morning, however, saw an unusual variation on the age-old bad-hair-day crisis: The blue spikes would not stay, well, spiky.

“Jules, can I use your hairspray?” Wiencek yelled to his younger sister, who was upstairs putting the finishing touches on her own Blue-and-White Day ensemble. “Yeah,” she replied.

He proceeded to douse his hair—still damp from the temporary blue hair dye that hadn’t quite dried—in the super-hold spray. Still, the tufts fell flat. “Well, that’s just going to have to work,” said Wiencek. “We should probably get going.”

After a quick breakfast of peanut-buttered toast and milk, Wiencek and his sister climbed into his old red pick-up and headed down their dirt road toward town.

Wiencek’s long day of presidential duties began almost immediately after he arrived at CHS. First up on the docket: delivering a special homecoming message to his fellow Blue Devils on the school’s daily announcement show, which is broadcast to all of the televisions in the school.

Then the real work began. Wiencek was responsible for finding the final two faculty chaperones for that night’s homecoming dance—a task that proved much more difficult than he thought. But like any good president, Wiencek used his inherent power of persuasion to get the necessary commitments and avert the crisis of a cancelled dance.

During some “down time,” Wiencek headed to the library to have a bite to eat and put together the play list for the dance—which, by the way, he would be disc jockeying.

“Personally, I wish we didn’t play so much rap,” he said. “But if we didn’t, nobody would dance.”

Before long, it was time for Wiencek to grab the microphone and pump up his peers at the high school pep rally. And showing no signs of waning enthusiasm, he repeated his performance at an outdoor pep rally for the elementary school students.

With no time to spare, he headed to the “old” gym and began stringing blue and white crepe paper decorations for the dance. Although he only had a few other student council members on hand to help him, the gym was quickly transformed into a groove-worthy dance floor.

By the time he emerged from the gym, people were already lining the streets of Corvallis in anticipation of the annual homecoming parade. After making sure the senior class float was good to go, Wiencek took his position at the head of the parade as the American flag bearer. A short march later, Wiencek’s busy day finally started to catch up with him.

“I think I’m going to go home and sleep for awhile,” he said. Not a bad idea, considering he would be up well past midnight, first manning the DJ booth and later sweeping up fallen streamers and popped balloons.

First, though, Wiencek led a group of potential homecoming kings, queens, princes and princesses to the center of the track’s homestretch, where he crowned the winners as their names were announced over the loudspeaker.

Then he and student council advisor Doug McConnaha returned to the gym to prepare for the imminent rush of teenage dancegoers—a rush that was unexpectedly delayed by an injury that stopped the football game for several minutes.

Stop, of course, doesn’t seem to be a word in Wiencek’s vocabulary. The music started right on time, and Wiencek’s energy as a DJ remained constant from the moment the doors opened until the last dance.

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