During my early days of grade school in Groveland, FL, I remember asking Dad, “What is a Greenback and why is our high school’s team called something like that?” When he told me it was U.S. Currency, I was really disappointed, as I couldn’t understand why we weren’t something more ferocious, i.e. lions, tigers or bears. But, as I grew into becoming a member of this team, I also became proud of the name on our jerseys, although I never fully understood why we were tagged with such a name. Only recently did I learn we got our name from the man who donated large sums of money to build our school near the end of the Great Depression in 1939. When asked what he’d like to name our school he said, “Well, there’s nothing stronger than the U.S. Dollar. Let our school be called, ‘The Groveland Greenbacks.”’
So, a few years ago I wrote a song to share during one of our annual, All Class School Reunions (although the chorus might be a slight case of plagiarism).
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written by Jack Speer, produced by John D. Willis, vocals by Jack Speer & Stephanie Willis
From the tower on the hill,
To the old saw mill,
Past the cemetery ‘cross the tracks.
And from the County Line Bar,
To the Tuscanooga Church – we are,
All Greenbacks.
And, like a close-knit family,
We stand united when we meet our foe,
And like those before me,
We chant a fight song everyone knows.
We are the Greenbacks,
The mighty, mighty Greenbacks.
Everywhere we go,
People want to know,
Who we are,
So, we tell them.
Whenever I go home
To where I came from,
Sometimes I’ll see an age-old friend.
And we’ll reminisce,
‘Bout those days we miss,
And re-live those old times again.
And, like a close-knit family,
We get silly and we laugh a lot,
And like those before me,
We share a bond that can’t be bought.
In days gone by, I wondered why,
Our school would bear the name,
From a piece of legal tender.
But, as most things change and rearrange,
One remains the same;
Money can’t buy Greenback pride,
By a king or a big spender.
(3X’s) We are the Greenbacks,
The mighty, mighty Greenbacks.
Everywhere we go,
People want to know,
Who we are,
So, we tell them.
From the tower on the hill,
To the old saw mill,
Past the cemetery, ‘cross the tracks.
And from the County Line Bar,
To the Tuscanooga Church – we are,
All Greenbacks.
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