Departure day arrived, the mail and paper had been
stopped, Kaye next door would water the flowers, the AC had been set to 80, and
the car was waxed, gassed and loaded with two sets of golf clubs, suitcases,
snacks, drinks and various sundry items.
Unfortunately the departure time had to be EARLY – 0600 to be exact, in
order to beat the morning rush through Dallas.
The only problem with leaving at that time was that we hit the evening
rush hour through Nashville dead center.
This was compounded by the fact that Nashville has several construction
zones with lane closures with no noticeable construction; however, lessened by
the fact that Nashville is not Dallas.
We made it to our designated first night stop in Bowling Green, Kentucky
by 1830 (6:30 PM for the non-military personnel). All in all a good day of almost 800 miles in a little more than
12 hours, with a dog in your lap.
By design the second leg of the trip is shorter as one
has to pass through Louisville, Cincinnati, and Columbus. In the rolling hills of Kentucky the trucks
have a nasty habit of passing one another on every hill. When one truck is going 65 and the
overtaking vehicle is going 66 this maneuver can take several miles to
accomplish (I swear they do it on purpose but Ed Bick would dispute that). Thus ones’ average speed is reduced
considerably. Also you lose an hour
going east. The weather was once again
cloudless and we arrived at Lynn’s brother’s house (our home away from home for
the next week) without a hitch before 1700 EDT.
The next day (Friday) dawned beautifully for a western
Pennsylvania homecoming. Slippery Rock
High School would be playing their rivals from the nearby town, Grove
City. This game was always well
attended and we were advised to get there early for a good parking place. We had no problem parking but I guess we
didn’t have to be there early because when we returned to the car there were
illegally parked cars all around us.
I’m sure they were late-arriving Grove City fans. High school football in Pennsylvania is just
a little different than it is in Texas.
In Slippery Rock there is no need to be a season ticket holder to get
into the game. The stadium still has
bleachers and no luxury boxes. Plus
there is no section reserved for major college scouts. The larger Slippery Rock University stadium
across town would pale in comparison to most Texas high school venues.
We found our gang of classmates in the stands behind a
large banner announcing the reunion courtesy of Bonnie (Arblaster) McCool who
owns a local print shop. As we
approached, everyone waved as some recognized us and others could be seen
waving as they asked their neighbors, “Now who are those guys?” Some of the former cheerleaders and
majorettes waved red and gray pompoms.
We took our places in the stands among some folks we hadn’t seen for
five years and others we hadn’t seen for 45 years. Many of the people I graduated with had been my classmates since
kindergarten. Kids who have been my
friends since I was five – Patty (Keller) Craig, Sharon (Dunkle) Stanford,
Karen (Cooper) Douthett, and her twin Sharon (Cooper) Braden, husband and wife
Judy (Grossman) and Dan McCarthy, Linda (Mayhew) Yetter, Barry Rose, Al
Fradenburgh, and Pauletta (Locke) Fallabel.
Some had changed little and some had changed a lot but it was great to see
them all. So many memories came
flooding back to me. Crazy made-up
childhood games, a first kiss, dares and double-dog-dares on the playground,
breaking into the college gym to play basketball, breaking off a tooth on a
failed somersault to impress a girl, biking to swim and fish at the Sportsman’s
Club, I could go on and on. (I have
written several stories about such early childhood and high school events on
“The Slippery Rock Kid” Blog.)
The game was great.
Our alma mater won big and we even caught glimpses of the excitement
while we swapped stories and shared photos of grandkids with old friends. Sharon (Dunkle) Stanford’s husband, Dave,
was refereeing the game and I assured Sharon when we booed the officials we
weren’t targeting him. It was great to
see some other folks we knew from classes before and after ours. While we were prepared for the cold, we
didn’t need the hats and mittens we brought.
Before we knew it the game was over and we joined the traffic jam to
head for the North Country Brewery for drinks and snacks. On the way downtown we remarked of how the
town had changed since the days of my youth.
No alcohol was sold in Slippery Rock until a few years ago. The town was “dry” until sometime in the
1990s and the only restaurant was the tiny Camelot on the corner of Main and
Franklin Streets. With the advent of
beer and wines sales there were now several restaurants/bars to choose from and
even at a late hour on Friday night the town was bustling and parking hard to
find. This was not the sleepy little
town of my childhood.
At
the brewery we had our own private room upstairs so the noise was at a
tolerable level to pick up where we left off catching up with classmates. I busied myself taking pictures between
drinks and snacks. The biggest problem
that most people had was the lack of time to complete meaningful conversations
with old friends. You would just get
into discussing the most important aspects of one’s life over the last 45 years
when someone else would come along and join in or interrupt to greet you. It seemed I could have spent hours catching
up with each classmate but that would have been impossible. Gary Allison and I talked about what was
most important to us growing up – the hot cars we drove. We stayed at the brewery as long as we
thought reasonable and bid those remaining farewell until the next day.
On
Saturday we were blessed with another clear and mild day. A good thing because golf was on the day’s
agenda. We arrived at the Shamrock Golf
Course early to find the Cooper twins busily organizing the outing. They had snacks and drinks and a little
orange bear memento for participants.
It was to be a mixed two-person scramble with a man and woman on each
team. Unfortunately we had more men
than women so George Flynn had to be “Georgina” and Barry Rose was added to our
team (Karen Douthett and myself).
Maggie (Laughner) Martz was not playing but drove Barry around the
course. The other teams were “Georgina”
Flynn and Ed Tonelli; Bob Allison and Sharon (Cooper) Braden; Lynn (Ketzel)
Fleeger and Gary Braden; Don “Caveman” Snyder and Barb Hogue; and Tim Benton
and Patty (Keller) Craig. The format was that everyone played their own ball
until they got to the green and then you chose the best ball and replaced it
with an orange ball. Whose ever ball it
represented watched while their partner putted. If the putt was missed, the other partner putted second, and so
forth until the orange ball dropped into the cup. When they explained these rules I asked what would happen if we
lost the orange ball. The twins looked
at me incredulously and said, “You will only use the orange ball on the
green!” So I repeated my question, “So
what if we lose the orange ball?”
Somehow my attempt at humor failed, based on the looks on their
faces. There would be long drive holes
for both men and women and a closest to the pin on number seven.
I
can’t speak for the other teams but Karen, Barry, Maggie, and I had a great
time. Very little was serious on the
course. I made fun of Karen as she bend
over in her stance. I told her that she
was showing cleavage that distracted me.
Her response was that it shouldn’t make any difference at our age. I told her that I was “old but not
dead.” Our high school football coach
and gym teacher, Bill Beatty, stopped by and drove around the course greeting
his former players and students. If our
ball went under a tree he encouraged a “foot wedge” to improve our lie. Bill never was much for official rules. We didn’t challenge the others on the long
drive holes but I reached the green on the seventh hole and Karen made the
birdie putt (our only birdie of the round).
When
we arrived at the final hole, another strange directive came into play. When the team reached the green the players
had to don a pair of crazy-looking spiral glasses that seriously impeded one’s
vision and then putt with a two foot long putter. This was a problem for everyone except Lynn who never saw a
putter short enough for herself. As
players finished we stood around the ninth green to watch those behind us putt
out. Our team had a fairly short putt
for birdie but the combination of glasses and putter lead to a three-putt
bogey.
At
the conclusion of the event everyone remarked what a good time they had. We were told that awards would be given at
the evening banquet and the twins were off to begin decorating. It seemed like we were back in high school
and a decorating committee was necessary before each cafeteria or gymnasium
dance. Once again we lingered to talk
about old times with our friends until it was time for us to go “decorate”
ourselves for the big night. It takes
awhile for 63 year olds to make themselves “presentable” to people they haven’t
seen in 45 years.
We
did the best we could to prepare ourselves and headed for the Slippery Rock
Township Building. Even though we
thought we were plenty early we were surprised how many classmates were already
there. Mr. Beatty was standing outside
with another older gentleman I didn’t recognize. When I introduced myself he said, “Wil Mapes.” I told him I remembered a “Mr. Mapes”,
(another coach/phys ed teacher/drivers ed instructor from our past). I had not seen him since graduation and it
was good to see him again. Funny, he
and Mr. Beatty looked “old”. But it occurred
to me that they had looked old when I was 18 and they were in their forties.
We
greeted a few of our classmates who were sitting outside and then drifted
inside. I was amazed that some of my
old friends’ names came back to me the minute I saw their face, (even the
nicknames like Moss, Caveman, Hollywood, Badge, Panzer, etc. were on the tip of
my tongue.) But there were others that
I really struggled with. Lynn is great
at remembering people and she was a big help until she would say, “I don’t have
a clue who that person is.” I gave her
a break since she hadn’t moved to the SR school district until tenth
grade. The nametags helped a great
deal. I did my best not to be too
obvious in concentrating on the nametag and then saying, “Hi, Don, I just knew
that was you!” I regret that I was a
little distracted before the meal by preparations to be the emcee. I needed to check the sound system that Dick
Day had brought along (a simple karaoke machine but it worked), get Al
Fradenburgh to help me put the banner on the wall for the class photo, ask
Sandy (Badger) Phillips if she was going to have a moment of silence before her
invocation for those classmates who had passed away, find out from the Cooper
twins when they would have the golf outing awards, and the most important –
figure out which table would hit the buffet line first.
Before
supper we had to gather everyone for the class picture (under the
aforementioned banner). Sharon (Dunkle)
Stanford’s grandson was the photographer.
And just like forty-five years before it was almost impossible to gain
complete cooperation from the Class of ’68.
I felt sorry for the young man who didn’t want to upset his grandmother
by yelling and screaming at her classmates.
The group tried to self-police by having short people get down front and
tall people line up in the back.
Unfortunately we either needed risers for the group or a ladder for the
photographer. I knew what the result would
be and it was confirmed months later when the photo arrived in the mail. Beyond the first three rows about one of
every three people were invisible.
After the picture was taken and folks were back in
their seats, Sandy did a great job on her prayer. Then it was time to eat.
We designated a table to start but thereafter it seemed like “every man
for himself.” Our table waited until
last, which, in hindsight, was a bad move.
By the time I was ready for my remarks the others had been done eating
for sometime. It really didn’t matter
though because the idea of the evening was to spend some quality time with at
least a few classmates. After you stood
up and began to circulate both quality and quantity of time seemed over.
I
wanted to keep my remarks to the class short but meaningful. I began by recognizing the reunion committee. These folks did a tremendous job over the
period of several years. They were - Sharon (Cooper) Braden and
Gary Braden, Karen (Cooper) Douthett, Bonnie (Arblaster) McCool, Sandy (Badger)
Phillips, Sharon (Dunkle) Stanford, and Joyce (Ross) Tonelli. I mentioned (with tongue in cheek) that Gary
had really worked his ass off on the committee. Next I asked for volunteers to help plan the 50th
reunion in five years. (This would
likely be the last reunion for this class as after 50 folks normally think more
about general reunions for multiple classes.)
As to what sort of gathering this might be, I told the group that I once
read about a man who won the lottery and used part of his winnings to take his
entire HS class on a cruise. That said
I asked if they would all consider buying a lottery ticket on their way
home. Then there were awards for the
golf outing and Dick Day surprised us by raffling off his record collection as
well as the CD of oldies he had made for the evening.
Next I discussed how many over the last couple days
had agreed that we didn’t feel nearly as old as we were. I mentioned that, while I was 63, I still
felt I was “middle-aged”. I opined that
meant I would probably live to be 126.
I also would probably have to be that old to finally shoot my age on the
golf course. I told about how I had
recently been to the doctor and he told me that I would never live long enough
to be as old as I looked. Lynn and I
had been driving from Texas to Pennsylvania and got into a backup where a car was
driving slowly in the left lane. When
we finally passed the car I looked over and said to Lynn, “It’s a couple of old
people.” I suppose they looked back and
said the same thing.
Finally
I talked about the explosion of social media and especially my favorite –
Facebook. I mentioned that I currently
had 34 classmates as Facebook friends and that I hoped to have more after the
reunion. I found that I knew much more
about these 34 people from the facts gleaned on Facebook than I did from our
relationships in high school. After
all, our class was made up of students from small towns that surrounded
Slippery Rock, like Prospect, Portersville, Mount Chestnut, Harrisville,
Forestville, and Boyers. Each of these
had either elementary schools or one-room schoolhouses for grades through
sixth. Thereafter they all came to SRHS
for high school. So there were lots of
smaller groups that had grown up together melded into our class.
Thanks
to Facebook I now know: how my
classmates look now compared to when we last saw them in person (some pretty
much the same, some different); what their grandchildren look like and the
sports they play; what foods friends are eating (can’t they just leave those
food photos to pinnterest?); what teams they support (Pirates, Pens, and
colleges, but not so much the Steelers this year, bringing boos from the
crowd); what their dogs and cats are up to (including grandchildren sleeping
atop large dogs); their joys over new births and their sorrows over the death
of a parent; where their travels are taking them; when they get a new car; what
books they’re reading; what movies they’ve seen; what they see on the internet
that they want to share with others; their political leanings (yes, it’s pretty
easy to tell right from left on FB); what
they value most in life; whether they are retired or still working; what they
have to say on their blogs; and I know what Rex Jamison is doing at any given
hour of the day. Specifically I know -
Terry Kniess has over 3,100 FB friends (far more than he did in HS). Steve Hartzell got a new tractor, a new silo
and tipped over his dump truck. Bob
Allison classifies himself as a “golf addict”.
Ed Bick’s CB handle was “Gadabout” and he also just returned from the
shooting range. Sharon (Cooper) Braden
spent last summer in an RV. Linda
(Mickley) Fleeger spends almost the whole year in a new RV (and by the way, she
blew us off this weekend for a once in a lifetime balloon festival in NM). Barb (Shiring) and Chaz Bennett just
returned to Niagara Falls (their honeymoon site) after 41 years of
marriage. Did we know any of these
things about our classmates in high school?
I then encouraged my classmates to use Facebook to talk up this reunion
and stir up interest in the next one.
Remarks
out of the way I felt a little more relaxed.
The rest of the evening would be devoted to sharing high school stories
and meeting people again I hadn’t seen in almost a half century (scary when you
put it like that). There was a display
of old Sarns (our HS yearbook). Several
folks were hovering around it looking at pictures of themselves as eighteen
year olds. Linda (Mayhew) Yetter had
brought some unpublished pictures from our senior play, “The Fireman’s Flame”
(a three-act melodrama featuring two competing volunteer fire associations, the
Red Hearts and Blue Birds, as well as the Fire Belles). I talked about the solo I sang called, “Poor
Old Ma” and how I forgot the words to the second verse but Kathy Taggart just
kept playing the piano. I adlibbed my
way through until I picked up the song again on the third verse. It is amazing how some old photographs can
tweak your memory and take you right back to high school.
I
hadn’t seen Mark “Hollywood” Johnson in years.
When I told him we currently lived in Texas he said he would be flying
to Dallas in a couple days to tour the site where JFK had been assassinated
almost 50 years before. That prompted a
discussion of whose eighth-grade classes we were in at SRHS when we got the
news. I told Mark to stop by when he
was in town but it turned out he’d be back in PA before I got home. Pat (Taggart) and Dave Castor told me they
had a conference in Dallas each year and I asked if they would stop by next
time they attended. Other than those
mentioned above I tried to touch base with others in attendance – Ella (Dick)
Hicks, Carol (Kale) Kennedy, Barbara (McKinnis) Yaklich, Lenny Allen, Sharon
(Miller) Isacco, Paula (Moore) Craw, Tom McPherson, Denny Studebaker, Lois
Thompson, Ruth (Sarvey) Fisher, Roger Druscel, Jim Shaffer, Susan (McCool) Bonafeste,
Joyce Ballew, and Linda (Karns) Arblaster.
There were many more memories shared before the night was over and it was time to reluctantly head for home. Before several couples called it a night we put away tables and chairs and reset the room the way the twins had found it earlier in the day. I asked why the specific arrangement and they told me that the building was utilized as a “senior center” most of the time. My only comment was, “How appropriate.”
