Wednesday, March 09, 2016
Harry Hall and I didn't re-establish contact until computer technology came on the scene. Harry surfed the web and found my Kuser School website www.kuser-school.blogspot.com and we became fast friends. How well I remember Harry and his neighbor Marty Majarowitz walking down Newkirk to Kuser School back in the 1940's Harry and I became very close e-mail swapping friends and carried on nearly daily email exchanges until he became ill a few years ago. I will always remember Harry and his reverence for our school days from Kuser School to Hamilton High. Even though I was a couple years his senior, we had enough in common to proudly claim each other brothers,, even to our birthdays; both of which occur in September; mine on the 29th and Harry's a couple days earlier on the 27th. Rest in peace and finally free from all that pain, Harry. We WILL meet again!
Saturday, March 05, 2016
It was March, 1951; time for our class trip to Washington in 2 buses. I was on bus 1 and as luck would have it, the girl of my dreams was on bus 2. I'll never forget that day when we stopped at the Luray Caverns and explored Mother Nature's incredible underground display. It was here that I fell in love with Judy Britton. She had on a very stunning navy blue suit, and was movie star pretty. I will never forget the thrill and electricity that surged through me as we walked hand in had in those dark caverns. Here's a pleasant memory of my classmates that I scanned from a 1950 "CRITERION" which I received from Bob Oliver HHS '50.
Monday, January 11, 2016
I am no longer posting on my Hamilton High School class of 1951 CLASSMATES.COM pages. I find that the site is much too limited in bringing the larger and more legible photos and articles. All of which brings me to this post: I have devoted my retirement years to my memories of growing up in a very rural Hamilton Township. I know there are a number of my contemporaries who have absolutely no interest in their past life, but as I grow older and older and older, I find that the memories I hold deep down in my very being should not be repressed. In short I am a hopeless romantic. I am also a hopeless, aging old guy looking back on how blessed I have been with my COUNTLESS precious memories. For instance: The photo I took was on one of my MANY passes I take to the best high school in the world (My opinion, of course.) I can't express the deep, delightful emotional wave that comes over me when I see that lovely settee under the school flagpole. School is ending, we were graduating seniors with our yearbooks at our side, garnering signatures of our classmates, and then that miraculous and never to be forgotten act of young love between me and the girl I would ultimately marry. Some folks take those memories to the cemetery. I take mine to the place where the memories were made, and this is one of those treasured landmarks for me.