1951 - 2011: 60 YEARS!! WHERE DID THE TIME GO?

Apologies to those visitor to this website who left comments that have gone unanswered. I discontinued posting on my Hamilton High and Kuser School sites due to my inability to keep all three sites going simultaneously. That was a mistake, and I am hereby resuming posting. To those of you who didn't receive a response to comments left on the site, please know that it was unintentional. A bit of simple math, 2011 minus 1951 equals 60 years, and at the golden age of 78, I admit that I let up a bit on the accelerator. However, I have decided to resume posting on this website. As to the goals of this endeavor and even though I have a very soft spot in my heart for my HHS '51 classmates, you will see that www.hhs51.blogspot.com is a chronological history of Hamilton High School West (Watson) which in my biased opinion is the best high school in the state of New Jersey.

I would like to make a suggestion to those visitors who are familiar with tweaking your computer. This site is much more legible if you reset your monitor display to 800 x 600 (from 1024 x 768).
(Go to CONTROL PANEL, CLICK ON DISPLAY, CLICK ON SETTINGS, MOVE THE SLIDER TO 800 X 600 AND CLICK APPLY.)
800 x 600 is much more comfortable for those of us who advancing age has resulted in our being "optically challenged."

1951: WE MADE SUCH BEAUTIFUL MUSIC TOGETHER!

Those were such wonderful years! As I pile on the years, memories of those years of singing with the gentlemen above will remain until we prayerfully meet again in the great beyond to resume our vocal talents. The photo was taken while we were in stage makeup as you can see by the lipstick and the flesh-colored make up we wore as we performed for the public. (don't miss our lily white necks where the makeup begins!) Each of us had a specific talent. Our "anchor," Bill Baggott along with Lee Belardino handled the tenor section. Keith Kauffman and Bob Thompson handled the deep, deep, "bass II" and George Mozer and I took over the baritone ("bass I") section. I will never forget the beautiful, indeed ethereal harmony we made together as we sang those great old "barbershop" songs; "When You Wore a Tulip," "Drifting and Dreaming," "In the Evening By the Moonlight," "Shine on Harvest Moon," and countless others.

1992: PAUL WHITE, HHS '93 GETS AN EAGLE SCOUT AWARE

This is from Thursday, November 19, 1992 "MERCER MESSENGER" when my friend Niel Bencivengo was Principal of the best high school in the whole U.S.A. (My opinion of course!) My son Tom so wanted a job with the Hamilton School system. He had an interview based on my telling him that there was a part time and a full time position available. However, when he got to the interview he found that the full time position had morphed into a part time position only.

1992: PAUL WHITE, HHS '93 GETS AN EAGLE SCOUT AWARE

This is from Thursday, November 19, 1992 "MERCER MESSENGER" when my friend Niel Bencivengo was Principal of the best high school in the whole U.S.A. (My opinion of course!) My son Tom so wanted a job with the Hamilton School system. He had an interview based on my telling him that there was a part time and a full time position available. However, when he got to the interview he found that the full time position had morphed into a part time position only.

1956: HERE COMES A n HHS 55th REUNION!

"HOAGLAND," in a subtle-as-a-crutch email, reminded me that my math is slipping; a message with which Max Jordan would be in complete agreement.

The error has been corrected.

I received this announcement from my friend Jack Lacy, HHS '56. Here's another historic milestone from the best high school that every existed,

HAMILTON HIGH SCHOOL!

Congratulations to all those seniors from that class who are now card-carrying seniors!

1956: DECEASED FROM HAMILTON HIGH CLASS OF 1956

Thanks to Jack Lacy for this updated listing of Hornets who have passed on. They will be in our prayers and our memories.

1969: HAMILTON'S JIM COURSEN RETIRES

Back in the 1960's and early 1970's, "Charles Van" created quite a community controversy as he wrote a number of very controversial and critical columns relating to the inefficiencies of the Hamilton Township school system. A number of letters to the editor suggested that "Charles Van" was a pen name, and the actual author should identify himself. As my research continues, I may find more information on the writer. In the meantime, he wrote this article on the retirement of Jim Coursen; "Jim Crow" as we called him back during my Hamilton High School years. .

1956: Obituary of John J. Kerlin, HHS '56 FROM JACK LACY - HHS '56

Hi all:

     Sorry to be the bearer of sad tidings so often but someone has to do it.  Been away on vacation so this is a bit late.

Jack

****************

John J. Kerlin  John J. Kerlin, 74, passed into God's loving embrace Thursday, Aug. 18, 2011, at Compassionate Care Hospice in Saint Francis Medical Center with his loving family by his side. Born in Trenton, NJ, John was a longtime Mercerville resident and businessman. He attended Hamilton High West and was an avid photographer there. Following graduation, he was a Navy reservist and veteran who proudly served on the USS Harlan R. Dickson and received the Good Conduct Medal. Upon completing his military service, John worked at Reedman Auto for several years. True to his entrepreneurial spirit, he opened and successfully operated Kerlin's Auto Service until 1972, when he decided to pursue a new career that would allow him to spend more time with his wife and two young sons whom he adored. Thus, John's Heating and Air Conditioning was born. John could always be found in his blue uniform and bright red truck. He loved working side by side with his devoted son, Wayne, who continues in John's footsteps, proudly wearing the uniform and driving the bright red truck. When not working, John enjoyed reading heating and cooling technical manuals, watching football on television, taking trips with his beloved wife, Diana, gardening, and attending weekly Mass. He always insisted on sitting in the first pew. A member of Our Lady of Sorrows Church, he also enjoyed attending Mass at Saint Gregory the Great Church. John was predeceased by parents, John W. and Anna (Vlaszac) Kerlin, and father and mother in-law, Joseph and Anna Glonek. Left to honor John's memory are his devoted wife and best friend of 47 years, Diana Glonek Kerlin; his dear son and daughter in-law, Paul and Jennifer Kerlin of Colorado; his loving son and daughter in-law, Wayne and Roseanne Kerlin of Yardville, NJ; his precious grandchildren, Christopher and Nicholas of Colorado; a sister-in-law, Joan Doll, and a host of other relatives and friends. Relatives and friends are invited to attend the funeral service at 6 p.m. on Sunday, Aug. 21, at the Chiacchio Southview Funeral Home, 990 S. Broad St., Trenton. Visitation will be held from 4-7 pm Sunday evening. Burial with military honors will be held privately at Brig. Gen. Wm. C. Doyle Veterans Memorial Cemetery, Wrightstown, NJ. Parking and handicap access are located behind the funeral home.

1954: MARION GOLDENBERG SCHWARTZ'S TRIBUTE TO A FRIEND

When we were young, we looked in the Society page to see who was getting married to whom. As we age, we now look in the Obituary section of the daily paper to see if one of our relatives, friends, or treasured classmates have gone to be with the Lord. Marion Schwartz's moving tribute to her friend late Marilyn Lister hearkens back to those carefree high school years.

1956: OBIT, CAROL DELP GLODAK

My friend Jack Lacy has been very helpful in keeping his classmates from HHS '56 updated on the passing of classmates from that class. The above graphic was appended to Jack's notification of the passing of Carol Delp Glodak, still another member of the Hamilton High class of '56. Thanks Jack. This post will also appear on my Hamilton High website, www.hhs51.blogspot.com.

1952: OBIT Jim "Skip" Porter HHS 1952

From "THE TIMES," October 31, 2009

James Porter "Skip"

James 'Skip' Porter PENNINGTON- James "Skip" Porter, 74, devoted husband, loving father and grandfather, passed away peacefully at home. Born in Hamilton Township in 1934, Skip lived most of his life as a Hopewell Valley resident. He enjoyed summers on Long Beach Island and winters in Hobe Sound, FL. He was a graduate of Hamilton High School West, four year class president and four year captain of the Hamilton High School football team. He spent a year as a post graduate at Hun School of Princeton then attended Worcester Polytechnic Institute in Worcester, MA, where he was a part of the undefeated 1954 football team. He was a U.S. Army veteran involved with the Second Guided Missile Group at Fort Bliss, TX. Skip enjoyed being a part of his community, serving as the president of the YMCA, coaching many athletic activities in the township and enjoyed serving as a deacon of the Pennington Presbyterian Church. He was instrumental in initiating the boys basketball and girls softball leagues, and enjoyed coaching in these leagues as well. Son of the late Robert S. Porter and Mae Porter, he is survived by his wife Janet; son, James Thomson, his wife Debbie and grandchildren Hunter and Jessica Porter of Port St. Lucie, FL; daughters, Jill Ellen Jones, her husband Randall and grandchildren Randall and Tyler of Titusville, and Janiene Elizabeth Baxter, her husband Gary and grandchildren Jeffrey and Paige, of Titusville; also surviving are brothers, Robert Porter of Browns Mills, William Porter of Whiting and Earl Porter of Walla Walla, WA. We are so appreciative of the many hours of care given to Skip over the past three years by Kris Niepsiej, a loyal and dedicated caregiver and friend. A special thanks to our many friends that always gave Skip a helping hand, a smile and constant support. In lieu of flowers, contributions may be made in his memory to The Parkinson's Alliance, P.O. Box 308, Kingston, NJ 08528-0308. A celebration of life service for James Porter will take place at 11 a.m. Friday, Nov. 6, at The Pennington Presbyterian Church, 13 S. Main St., Pennington, NJ 08534. Calling hours will be from 6-8 p.m. on Thursday, Nov. 5 at The Wilson-Apple Funeral Home, 2560 Pennington Rd., Pennington, NJ 08534.

1946: PAT MCGARRIGLE HHS '51 IS TOM SAWYER

My classmate from Hamilton's class of '51 entered the 1946 Tom Sawyer look alike contest and won. The Trenton area was celebrating the arrival of the Hollywood movie, "The Adventures of Tom Sawyer" and for publicity held a contest for a look alike.

1938: Alice Wilhelm's "Tri-Y" Club

I will leave it to those visitors who have family who were at Hamilton High 70 years ago to tell us what the "Tri-Y" Club did. When Alice Wilhelm retired, she passed along many wonderful Hamilton High photos and articles to me. This is one of them.

1943: WHO SAID "YOU CAN'T GO HOME AGAIN?"

This guest book entry from Ms. Kathryn Lacy Wake was posted today. Kathryn is looking for fellow HHS '43 classmates with whom to re-establish contact. Kathryn, it is an unfortunate truth that your generation is sadly lacking in computer involvement. I just wrote about that very thing in my "Sentimental Journey" column in the Trenton Times. I hope you find a classmate who is into computing and reads this, but the chances are mighty slim.

1983: MEMORIES ARE MADE OF THIS

Even though this column I wrote back in 1983 related to Hamilton High School, Kuser School and Kuser Annex played a major part in my 12 years of education. With all the humility I can muster, I think this is one of the best columns I have written for the newspaper over the past 30 years. As you will see as you read my "Odyssey," the part my fellow "Kuser Kats" played in my grammar and high school career reached a climax on the warm and rainy June night in 1951. Even in this year of 2009, I still feel a very close kinship with all my wonderful alumni from both Kuser and HHS.

Tom Glover’s

Hamilton High School Odyssey

************************

I drove by the place the other day. Something made me go around the block and drive by a second time. As I rounded the corner of Park Avenue and South Clinton, I decided to stop and take a closer look. I pulled over to the curb, parked, and for a minute or two, just stood on the sidewalk, closed my eyes and savored the moment.

One of my favorite movies of all time is the 20^th Century Fox production of "Twelve O’clock High." You may remember the opening minutes of the film, as an aging Dean Jagger journeys back, alone in time, to the very spot where he spent a very memorable period of his life, with very memorable people. The background music, the prop wash from the B-17s readying themselves for another mission, the almost ethereal sound of male voices coming from out of the past in song:

Bless them all, bless them all The long and the short and the tall…”

Dean Jagger was on a nostalgia trip; a mental journey, if you will, into the past. Such a journey may be taken by anyone who has pleasant memories, just sitting there; awaiting recall. As I stood in front of Hamilton High School, thinking about "Twelve O’clock High," I became aware of the warm spring breezes rustling through those familiar Sycamore trees on the front lawn of Hamilton High School. I took a seat on the settee at the base of the equally familiar Hamilton High flagpole. My thoughts of the movie vanished, and were replaced by pangs of bittersweet nostalgia ... sort of a melancholy feeling that I had been here before ... right here, on this settee ... with a lovely girl ... the girl I would ultimately fall in love with and marry. It was spring. It was 1951. I was a senior at Hamilton High.

A strange, almost supernatural sound came to my ears as the breezes whispered through the trees. "Good morning... Hamilton High School ... Yes, this is Miss Gropp. Yes, Mr. Hesser is in ... he's in a meeting. Mr. Coursen? Yes, one moment please.

Six or seven cream-colored Trenton Transit busses pull up to the curb; their doors open and busloads of 1950's type teenagers jump to the sidewalk. Over on the Park Avenue side, Joe Layton pulls up with the "Blue Goose"... repeat­ing the same ritual his competitor is doing on South Clinton Avenue. The "Blue Goose!" What a bus ...beautiful velour seats, a roof-top luggage rack ...a remnant of the depression. Still another Layton bus pulls to the curb. It's "Red." He does have a last name, but we don't know it; all we know is he is a nice guy. He still doesn't have any teeth, he still needs a shave, and his cigarette has a one inch ash hanging from it. How vivid everything is in my mind!

"Richard, Did you read chapter two of "David Copperfield?" "Yes, Miss Cornwell."

"If you read it, Richard, which is highly doubtful, I would think you would have gotten at least one question correct."

"Yes, m’aam," came the plaintive reply.

I pass Miss Cornwell's English class...pausing at the entrance way to Mr. Bird's history class: "Listen, you birds, tomorrow we will have a quiz on chapter 14. Be sure you study."

"Mr. Bird, these shoes are too small."

"It doesn't matter. I can get you any size you want."

"OK. Get me 8-D's in brown." Mr. Bird is moonlights as a shoe salesman for Mason Shoe Company.

As if on a magic carpet, I am standing outside the Park Avenue door of Hamilton High. It's a very cold winter day; too cold to go out past the third telephone pole for a cigarette. I have one cupped in my right hand; my hand is in my pocket.

"Thomas, put that cigarette out and come with me." It's Wendell Phillips. One of his assignments as a teacher is to police the "first," "second," and "third" lunch periods for those of us who choose to break the rules of the school. Mr. Phillips is a small, slight, man. He is very soft-spoken, and at the same time, a strict disciplinarian. He wears rimless glasses, and is impeccably dressed. He has a super white, stiffly-starched white shirt, and shoes so shiny, one's reflection can be seen. His uncanny ability as a faculty detective con­stantly takes us by surprise. He leads me into the office, and matter-of-factly tells Mr. Miss Gropp to write me up for "five hours" of detention. Detention; How we despise it! We miss the bus, and it's a long walk home; especially in the rainy weather.

And now I'm out in the athletic field. It's Friday afternoon, and the end of another week. Don Devine, Kip Breese, and Joe Bartlett are super­vising intramural sports. We're playing softball. My team is batting ...I'm up. At home, when we play softball at Plaag's Grove, I smack the ball a country mile. Why is it when I'm playing high school sports, I can't get a hit? For that matter, I can't field too, either. I don't understand. I'm fac­ing Buddy Rick. Rick is good at all sports. He looks in at Art Perry and winks…..a windup, a sting­ing underarm fastball….. another….. then a third. I'm called out on the third strike...I'm embar­rassed. I didn't even swing at one of them. I'm such a wimp!

Gene Grauer's up next. As I hand him the bat, I hear somebody say something about a barn and a snow shovel. I mumble something about a sore shoulder. I have to have some kind of excuse ...I mean ...three straight strikes...not only that they all saw me miss that fly ball out in right field ...hell, I would have one-handed that if we were playing over at Plaag's...how come? I'm confused.

Now I'm off the athletic field. I seem to be in a shop ...yes..."Hamilton Job Press"...print shop! Who's the teacher?..."Remember boys, FFI and FFL are called ligatures. They are next to each other in the California Job Case. You must learn where each and every letter is stored. Spaces are called "quads "...there are "em" quads and "en" quads.

That Charles Dickens accent! It can only be "Pop" Mitchell ...It is! He sits at his desk with a green celluloid visor over his forehead. It contrasts with what is left of his silver hair. He stops his dis­course on ligatures long enough to rebuke one of his talkative students:

"Mr. Wilson! I shall recite a poem just for you. You would do well to listen to every word. I shall be happy to explain it should you not understand the meaning. Are you ready?

Charlie Wilson is a happy-go-lucky guy. He likes Pop, and Pop likes him. Charlie is a good print shop student. He tells Pop he is ready. "Very well, here it is:

A WISE OLD OWL LIVED IN AN OAK.

THE MORE HE SAW, THE LESS HE SPOKE.

THE LESS HE SPOKE, THE MORE HE HEARD.

WHY CAN'T WE BE LIKE THAT OLD BIRD?

Do you understand the poem, Mr. Wilson?" "Yeah, I do, Mr. Mitchell."

"Very well, if you try to be like that old bird you will have very little trouble understanding ligatures. FFI, FFL..."

The voice trails off, along with the hum of the Hamilton Job Presses. And suddenly, I'm seated in the third row, front section of the Hamilton High School auditorium. It's operetta time. We're hav­ing rehearsals for the 1951 production of "Tulip Time". Louise Baird is playing the piano, accom­panying Bill Baggott. Bill's lovely tenor voice obviously pleases Miss Baird as she plays the piano with a smile of satisfaction. Bill's solo ends and the chorus called to the stage. For the umpteenth time we will go over the one song which seems to need work.

"All right, choir, listen to me." It's Miss Louise Baird. Petite is stature, but with the uncanny ability to demand, and get, attention, and then perfection. "The last time we did this song, some of you basses were growling around off pitch. Was it you, Keith Kauffman?"

"No Miss Baird, it was probably Clark Perry." Clark is a tenor. We laugh at Keith's always­ present sense of humor.

Miss Baird's glasses are tilted on the top of her head, aviator style, as she calls Saundra Smith in to provide the accompaniment. Miss Baird takes up a position at the front of the stage so she can hear the offending voice, or voices. She taps her pencil for attention, and Sandy begins to play. We wait for the introduction, which by now is more familiar than out national anthem, then we sing:

“..TULIP TIME IN HOLLAND IS A TIME FOR MERRY FUN.

MARKET PLACE IS CROWDED, AND THE JOY HAS JUST BEGUN,

WE ARE HERE TO CELEBRATE, AND WHEN THE DAY IS DONE,

WE WILL NOT FORGET THE HAPPY HOURS...”

Again, the voices fade, and just as suddenly, I'm out of the auditorium. It's a warm June night. School will soon end. It's the last canteen of the year. It's such a delightful evening; almost as if God mandated soft moonlight, rustling leaves, and the heady smell of romance.

"Let's go outside and get some air, Jude."

We hold hands and walk out into the delightful spring evening. I can't explain the vibrant elec­tricity I feel between my hand and hers. I wonder to myself if I'm trembling. She looks fresh and clean as the spring. I'm in love. We face each other ...holding each other's hand. We look at each other and wonder at the strange and beautiful happening. I kiss her. She's soft and fresh, and beautiful. She is becoming a woman ...I'm becom­ing a man.

And now there's a clap of thunder, followed by a brilliant flash of lightning. It's still June, but it's our big day. Graduation! My brother drops me off at the side entrance to the War Memorial Building. Many of the guys are standing on the sidewalk. All of us feign confidence and com­posure. Inside, we're all experiencing butterflies. I walk up to Larry McGlynn. "Hi Stony ! ... `be glad when this is over, won't you?" Joe Kasian saunters over; always ready with that smile. Geez! I've gone through 12 years of school with Joe; from kindergarten to senior. I've grown up with him ...and George Morley, Joan Tart, Karen Peterson, Shirley VanMarter, Charlotte Wilson, Ronnie Tarr, Tony Gies, Elaine Globus, Jess Anderson, Don Slabicki…..all those "Kuser Kids"...I silen­tly wonder to myself if I'll ever see them again after tonight. What an unsettling thought. There's uneasiness about this graduation business. The lightning flashes and it rains….hard. We rush for the protective shelter of the huge awning at the side of the War Memorial. My Uncle Charlie Gaudette comes out in his short sleeves and unlocks the doors. He's the superintendent here, and I'm kinda proud that my uncle has such an important position.

"Hi ya Tommy…. 'Ya all ready for the big night? Tell your Mom and Pop we'll be over Saturday". Almost as an afterthought, he reaches into his wallet and hands me a five dollar bill ...then wishes me well.

And suddenly, we're all on the huge War Memorial building stage. We're sitting on bleachers. The kids in the back row are way up there ...I mean way up...near the roof. The pro­gram begins. A minister delivers a stirring invocation. Reverend John Oman delivers a short, relevant prayer. The minutes tick away. Feet rustle and throats clear, more out of nervousness than necessity. On cue, the choir takes a place in the front of the graduates, center stage. We look down beyond the footlights and see the friendly and familiar face of Miss Baird, as she begins to lead us in song ...her smile is reassuring:

Our harmony is superb. All of a sudden, I realize the beauty of these lyrics. We've been singing this song for 3 years, and I never understood the full beauty of the thing.

“Now the day is over, night is drawing nigh,

Shadows of the evening, steal across the sky.

Jesus gives the weary, calm and sweet repose,

With thy tenderest blessing, may my eyelids close..”

As I ponder the lyrics, I am strangely choked up; my eyes are glistening ...the end is in view. I cast a furtive glance at some classmates...am I the only one with this intense emotional feeling? There's Judy Britton, Shirley Whiteb­read, Phyllis Booz, Joan Delowise, Karen Peter­son, Charlotte Wilson...all crying. Most of the girls are crying ...what about the guys? ...Geez! I have this lump in my throat ...I feel the tears welling up to overflowing. The song ends. Miss Baird looks up at us, a smile of complete satisfaction on her face. She nods and silently sounds the word "good". We assume our places with the graduates. My nose is running ...I need a tissue, and don't have one. Who would have thought I would have needed one? ...I sniff and swallow.

And now, Mr. Hesser is presenting the class to Mr. Howard D. Morrison. We're on our way! They're handing out the diplomas. The applause, as each name is called, seems to emphasize the popularity, or lack thereof, of the recipient. And suddenly, they're all distributed ...there are no more ...this is the end. Twelve years of school ..this is really the end! Am I glad or am I sad? Mr. Morrison speaks the final words:

"And so, to the class of Hamilton High School, 1951, good luck, and may God Bless each and every one of you."

Suddenly the scene changes. I'm out of the War Memorial. It's September ...I don't know what year...yes I do...it's 1983...a school bus rumbles up to the curb on the Park Avenue side of Hamilton High School. Now they call it "Hamilton High School West". Here comes another bus, and another. They're not Trenton Transit ...not Joe Layton...they're all bright yellow and black. 1983-­type school kids hop, skip, and jump to the curb and head toward those familiar old doorways. I'm standing in their midst but they don't seem to see me. Strange! How I envy them! I remember Vic­tor Herbert's song, "Toyland"...how does it go...let's see...

"Toyland, toyland, dear little girl and boy land,

While you are within it, you are ever happy there,

Childhood joy land, dear little girl and boy land,

Once you've passed its portals, you may never return again..."

How true! Look at those Freshmen! Four years of high school still ahead of them! Oh, please enjoy it...Learn! Live every golden minute of it...someone please tell them it's all over so soon ...it ends so fast!

The bell rings; a bell much louder than the bell we had, and they are all in class. The breeze rus­tles through the trees, and ethereal voices, clear and bell-like, echo through the grand old building and a song mingles with the rustle of those big Hamilton High Sycamore trees….

“The New Years Eve, we did the town, the day we tore the goal post down,

We will have these moments to remember.

The quiet walks, the noisy fun,the ballroom prize we almost won,

We will have these moments to remember..."

----- Original Message -----

From: Iamdpw@aol.com

To: Thomglo@verizon.net

Sent: Friday, April 17, 2009 11:55 AM

Subject: Permission

Tom-

I sent a copy of an item from your blog to some of my classmates as a suggestion of what we could present as entertainment at our next annual class meeting. It was your piece about "day dreaming" of going back to HHS and recalling pleasant memories of those days.

My question is this- Can we have your permission to quote some (or maybe all ) of that article in our presentation at our luncheon in June? We would of course acknowledge that the words are yours.

Don Whiteley

1951: Elise Mueller, Queen of the Senior Ball

One of the really great things about my web blogs is re-kindling old acquaintances. Elise visited my website, hopefully as a result of my recent TIMES column on the subject of computers and the lack of senior citizen involvement. Lovely Elise was the queen of our class of '51 senior ball. There she sits, majestically on her throne, a vision of loveliness. Another vision of loveliness is standing to her immediate right (on the left in the center photo), a young lady named Shirley Whitebread who was a blazing "old flame*" back in Kuser School, and also a regular duet partner of mine in the Kuser School glee club. *"old flame" is a seldom heard phrase familiar to only those of us who are in the over 60 generation. The phrase has been replaced with "an ex."

2009: CLARK PERRY-HHS '51--GOODBYE FOR NOW

Today I received an email from Audrey Perry Maurer looking for my tribute to Clark. I was amazed to note that I posted it on my www.glover320.blogspot.com blog, but neglected to post it here.

I really get a morose and melancholy reaction when I read of the passing of still another classmate. Especially those who went through twelve years of school with me, from Miss Mary Kelly's Reception grade at Kuser School, through Hamilton High Class of 1951. Clark was one of the stalwarts as a tenor in our years with Louise Baird's vocal music class. I have been blessed with an incredible ability to remember persons, places, and things from my very earliest years. Countless memories of Clark and his twin brother Art will always be with me. Louise Baird used to mix a bit of philosophical wisdom in with our music repertoire. One of those philosophical gems applies to my old friend, Clark:
"Make the world a bit more beautiful because you have lived in it." Clark did. Rest in Peace my friend, we WILL meet again.

2006: HHS CLASS OF '56. ANOTHER "CLASS WITH CLASS."

Fellow Hamilton Hornet Jack Lacy gave me a CD/DVD loaded with photos from the 50th reunion of Hamilton's class of 1956, celebrated back in 2006. The above photo has been enhanced and tweaked to give you an idea of just one small portion of the time and labor that was brought into play by alumni from that class. Check out the neighborhood display, and don't miss that old Wurlitzer juke box.

1951: LEE MOUNT, HHS 51 AND BROTHER CARL

Here's HHS '51 classmate Lee Mount and his little brother Carl on a sled, winter, 1938.

1947: "PUPPY LOVE" AT KUSER GRAMMAR SCHOOL

This is one of my childhood girlfriends whom I met long before meeting my dear wife of 56 years, Judy Britton. most of us guys had a young lady during our years in grammar school who gave us that very interesting emotional malady known as "Puppy Love." Millie Long was one of those grammar school classmates who captured my 13 year old heart. Few indeed are those of us who will ever forget the object of our affection in those grammar school years. The late Mildred Long was one of those lovely young girls who brightened my life when I first met her in 8^th grade at Kuser School. I recently went to that big old Sycamore tree in front of Kuser School and looked in vain for the heart that I carved on that tree that I thought would last forever: “Tommy G. + Millie L," but it was nowhere to be seen.

2009: A REDUNDANT REMINDER

(I will be posting this graphic on this, and my Kuser and Hamilton High websites periodically to remind any alumni who are interested in attending this historic event.)

I have no idea how many Kuser alumni visit this site. However, I would be remiss if I didn't remind those Kuser Kats who are visitors to mark their respective calendars for Saturday, September 26, 2009 from 1 to 5 P.M. for a visit back to the best grammar school in the world! I hope to see you there!

2009: HHS'51 Shirley Gress Obit

I had seen Shirley on a number of occasions during my frequent Senior Citizen outreach programs. She was a lovely gal who was always there with that ready smile, and cordial personality. Rest in Peace, Shirl,
"we'll meet again, don't know where don't know when, but I know we'll meet again some sunny day..."

1954: IT WILL BE REUNION #55 FOR HHS '54

When I lost my complete list of email addresses and ALL the correspondence, I lost contact with many of my visitors. As explained elsewhere on this site, in my quest to be logical, I assumed that the transition from Verizon Fios to Verizon Broadband would not erase all of my thomglo@verizon.net library of messages and addresses. Such was, and is not the case. Here's a warning to all who are considering the move I made. Believe it or not, Verizon Broadband told me they are a different organization than Verizon Fios, and have no facility to host emails. I learned too late that my quest to apply logic can be very twisted. So Karen Golden, if you are reading this post, thank you so much for the yearbook. Please contact me at my NEW email address
tglover320@optimum.net

A REDUNDANT REMINDER

2009: Come Sing With Me and Also Remember Kuser School Days

For those local residents who were unable to attend the June 4th Centennial Dinner Dance at the Nottingham Ballroom, I will be presenting my onscreen multimedia presentation,
"KUSER SCHOOL: A LOCAL LEGEND" on Sunday afternoon during my regular singalong program. The program will be from 1 to 3 PM in the Kuser Mansion theater. I hope to see you there. Call 890-3630 to reserve a seat or seats.

1989: HHS PRESENTS "OLIVER!"

Last month, Judy and I journeyed down to Seneca High School in Tabernacle, N.J. to see my grand daughter Jessica in "Oliver!" It was a SMASH hit. As we left the auditorium, I opined to my dear wife Judy and my daughter, Juliane, that Seneca's production was as good as those which have been presented by Hamilton High under the direction of Ms. Sue Proulx, and earlier, Miss Louise Baird. And that is a well-deserved compliment to the very talented music students and the faculty at HHS!

1989: HHS MATH CLUB

Here are four Hornets doing what I couldn't do in a million years: excel in math. I have absolutely no mathmatical talent. 

2009: Come Sing With Me and Also Remember Kuser School Days

For those local residents who were unable to attend the June 4th Centennial Dinner Dance at the Nottingham Ballroom, I will be presenting my onscreen multimedia presentation,
"KUSER SCHOOL: A LOCAL LEGEND" on Sunday afternoon during my regular singalong program. The program will be from 1 to 3 PM in the Kuser Mansion theater. I hope to see you there. Call 890-3630 to reserve a seat or seats.

DON'T FORGET THE ARCHIVES

ATTENTION NEWCOMERS:

BE SURE TO CHECK THE ARCHIVES. THEY GO BACK TO THE YEAR 2006

2009: OBIT: SHIRLEY VAN MARTER EDWARDS

It was with extreme sadness that I noted the passing of Shirley Van Marter (Edwards), still another member of the "Class With Class, HHS 1951." Shirley was a class mate of mine through all 12 years of grammar and high school. I will always remember that quick and ready smile. She had a truly wonderful personality.The Van Marter family were neighbors of the Glovers back in the 1930's. We lived on Beal Street and the Van Marters on Partridge.

1967: A REQUEST FROM RICHARD SANNA, HHS '67

I received an email from Richard Sanna requesting information on the class of '67. Unfortunately, the HHS51 guest book does not allow for responses to guest comments, so I am taking this opportunity to address Richard's questions:

Sorry to say Richard, the only 1967 HHS post on my website is one revealing the fact that Betty Reed and Herb Griffiths were transferring over to Steinert.

As to requesting using my column, sorry to say my space is too limited for PSA's. I suggest you send one in to the Times' Community editor and if he/she is not the person, to please forward your request.

I will be keeping an eye out for future HHS material from the later years.

Tom Glover