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.
