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Making Time for Friends!
By Jackie Winkler
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Several of us gals (pictured below) enjoyed the second luncheon that began with a casual mention about getting together for lunch sometime. (I missed the first lunch because I had to make an emergency run to the hospital for gallbladder surgery!) The classmates in the picture below met at Benham’s in downtown Dayton this time. The first get-together was at the Coldwater Café in Tipp City. Although the food was great, it was secondary to all the chitter-chatter going on among us. We all wanted to hear what everyone was saying, but since we feel like we have just begun to have fun together, we want to have another get-together in March and maybe another in June. Pam Jacobson Driscoll lives in Florida so we planned this one to coincide with one of her trips back to the cold weather to visit family. Jeannine White Cash was unable to join us in person because she was taking Pam’s place in Florida! Jeannine called us during lunch so we could share a few minutes with her on Pam’s phone, speaker mode.
We had no trouble at all spending 2½ hours together; the talk continued while we ate—no silence as usual when food is served! Some are still working and arranged a long lunch hour, and others are retired but so busy they wonder how they ever had time for work. If you are in the area or will be in the Dayton area and would like to be invited to our next luncheon, contact me (jawinkler@hotmail.com) and I will make sure you are notified of date, time, and location! Ladies only, please…
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(L to R)
Mary Mitrousis Searles
Jackie Winkler
Kristi Duckwall Andreae
Lynda Hickerson Hoffman
Diane Krandall Briggs
Sandee Garwood Kline
Susie Bagwell Harker
Pam Jacobson Driscoll
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| Jackie Winkler retired from Lockheed Martin Corporation in 2008 after working 12 years with several Lockheed Martin companies, mostly in Orlando, Florida. She worked as an Administrative Assistant in the Employee Learning and Development Department, for Human Resources |
| Corporate Operations, and as a Senior Administrative Assistant for Supply Chain Management. In 2005 she transferred with Lockheed to Cleveland, Ohio, where she worked as a Technical Writer in the Congressional Department on a government contract held by Lockheed. |
| Prior to going to work for Lockheed, Ms. Winkler spent one year as a cross cultural teacher (1995) in the Commonwealth of Independent States (CIS), training Russian public school teachers how to implement a western style curriculum into their classrooms. Before making the trip to the CIS, Jackie served the community of Jackson, Tennessee, as a pastor’s wife. Her highest calling was as a stay-at-home mom to her three children for 27 years. |
| Ms. Winkler studied at Columbia International University, Columbia, South Carolina, and graduated in 1984 with an Associate of Arts degree. In addition to earning her degree, she completed the core curriculum for a four-year degree along with performing at-will services for the University. Her training in preparation for serving in Russia was the equivalent of one year’s seminary training. |
| Her three children have given her ten grandchildren, all of whom reside from Alaska to Iowa to Florida. Jackie lives near family and friends in Ohio and is fulfilling one of her dreams: to write. Another dream is . . . as God wills. |
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A Toxic Retirement at Grand Lake St. Marys
By Ginny Lake Burroughs
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It’s snowing and cold now, and much of Grand Lake St. Marys is frozen – but the images of the lake this past summer still haunt me. When I made the decision to move from Dayton to Celina after retirement, I was an ignorant “city girl", dreaming only of fishing, swimming, rides on the pontoon and jet-skiing – what a life, (not just for me but for my kids and grandkids!) I retired and “settled” in my place on the lake June 4, when school was out, and, by the July 4th weekend, the lake was covered with blue-green algae.
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Click Pictures To Enlarge! |
A ban was put on the lake when two toxins were discovered in the algae, and our pontoons, boats, jet-skis and kayaks sat in the channels, trapped in the green or blue swirls for the remainder of the summer. A neighbor’s lab died after swimming at the beach. The neighbor got sick. Every day, I drove my bicycle to the channel where our boats were tied, and discovered dead ducks floating in the algae;- I even watched two herons die. I’d never seen and couldn’t possibly have imagined, the sights and smells that greeted me each day.
I’m quickly learning how much influence and impact farming has in Ohio. Richard Middleton, the “Erin Brockovich” of farm pollution, wants to file a class action suit against the offending farmers and corporations behind them, whose manure runoff, (and illegal dumping into nearby creeks,) has made the lake toxic; but very few residents here are willing to participate. They’re either related to farmers, or dependent on the farm industry in Mercer County. When word got out that a suit might be filed, folks started boycotting all businesses they thought were affiliated with the suit.
The “official” stance is: “We must cooperate;” “The farmers are our friends;” “The farmers must voluntarily patrol one another – regulations aren’t the answer;” and, the best: “We must educate the farmers.”
I’m not sorry I moved here, because I’m not dependent on the farmers and can voice my opinion and spread the word through photographs, writing and the spoken word. Look at the photos – too bad smell can’t be recorded – and if you know ANYONE who owns property on Grand Lake and would like to be a part of the lawsuit, have them contact Richard Middleton in Savannah GA at 912-234-1133. There’ll be no cost to be part of the lawsuit - (if a settlement is reached, the Middleton Firm will get 40% + expenses; if not, they get nothing). Check him out at: closeanimalfactories.org – he was one of a handful of prominent lawyers handpicked by Bobby Kennedy Jr. to fight bad agricultural practices.
You’ve probably been reading about all the “fixes” and experiments going on at the lake; but if the source isn’t stopped, nothing will help it; - and believe me, this isn’t just Grand Lake.
We may have the largest and most shallow lake in the state, and were hit the hardest - (Mercer County is the largest agricultural county in the state) - but 21 Ohio lakes were affected this summer – and eventually, if we don’t stop the source, the algae will be coming to a waterway near you. We MUST change our farming practices if we want to enjoy our waterways!
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The Night of the Thousand Laughs
By Jim Rowlands
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On February 20, 2010, seven friends from an age long ago, got to share a laugh-filled evening reminiscing about their once proud Friday nights under the lights at Welcome Stadium. At Nick Stamas’ studio loft in downtown Dayton, seven former football players from the class of 1964 renewed their friendships forged on the grassless practice field at Colonel White High School. As I parked my car and got out, coming across the street, was Carl Woesser in his Colonel White Varsity Letter Jacket. After all these years he could still fit into it (a little snug mind you) but; still looking like he was 17. We met Mike Kline at the entrance door and the three of us made it up the four floors to Nick’s loft. With one knock on the door we were greeted by Nick Stamas, sporting his always cordial and inviting smile.
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John Cromer, John Nugent, and Nick Stamas |
As we entered his loft, Nick immediately pointed to an interior wall where he proudly displayed seven enlarged pictures of each of us in our Colonel White football gear. The “magnificent seven” as I nicknamed us, were Carl Woessner, Nick Stamas, George Keller, John Nugent, Mike Kline, John Cromer and yours truly Jim Rowlands. Man did we look young!
After a round of greetings, handshakes and some manly hugs, the night of a thousand laughs began. One of the funniest stories and perhaps the biggest laugh of the night, took everybody off guard. George Keller made a most bizarre confession to John Cromer, our quarterback. He expressed being upset with something John had said in the huddle during the Dunbar game in ‘63. As George came to the line he whispered to the Dunbar defensive tackle that he had been blocking all night, that the next time number “13” ran the ball, he was going to intentionally miss his block and let the Dunbar player have a free shot at John. When John ran the ball, the defensive tackle didn’t believe George and missed his chance for an easy tackle. However, the next time Cromer carried the ball to George’s side, John unfortunately came facemask-to-facemask with this enormous Dunbar player, who promptly, and with the greatest delight, planted Cromer into the Welcome Stadium turf. This story, was whole-heartedly, one of the biggest laughs of the night. Even John found the story entertaining. I think? George’s anecdote had triggered an avalanche of outrageous stories that delighted us all.
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John Cromer, John Nugent, Nick Stamas, and Carl Woessner |
Later that night we began watching game films from our 1963 football season. Every time George changed a reel, we took a beer and pizza break. During one of these breaks, George, a city league head football coach, recanted a rather funny story that happened to one of his players at Meadowdale High School. As soon as he finished his story, George, without missing a beat, dramatically pointed his finger at Mike Kline and asked him if he remembered creeping in on one of our showering teammates, and dumping a massive amount of Tuff Skin, (a very sticky substance), all over this unsuspecting target’s head. Mike, with a sheepish grin chimed in with “you should have seen his face as he tried to get the glob of Tuff Skin out of his hair.” All of us looked at each other to see if we had been Mike’s target, and happy to report, it was none of us!
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George Keller |
As the aged football films played on, I was amazed at some of my blocking skills – saying to myself, “not bad Rowlands-not bad at all.” I marveled at Nick’s gifted running and throwing; - boy was he a gifted QB. Mike’s blocks were devastating; and in one instance pulling the wrong way; Mike cleverly added that he had just invented the “influence block”. George must have re-run that play ten times. I played next to Kline and I can honestly say he was one hell of a lineman. John Nugent, quite a force, was a hard nose running back, who always seemed to get the extra yard when needed. Nugent became our own defensive wrecking ball with his tenacious tackling of enemy ball carriers. His football exploits brought a lot of replays accompanied by “way to go John!” John Cromer’s mastery at running the offense and on occasion, intercepting an errant pass, showed what a gifted athlete he truly was. Our offense was always in talented hands with either Nick or John at the helm. George’s crushing blocks left gaping holes for Nugent and others to run through. His blocking technique was a marvel to behold.
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Carl Woessner in his letter jacket |
Carl Woessner, a devastating and prolific running back, was also equally accomplished on the defensive side of the ball. He was known as a defensive force that could demoralize the opponent’s offense with his ability to seek out and crush the enemy running backs. After watching the game films, I realized, no matter what the score was, or who we were playing; my teammates were a very special breed of competitor who gave all they had on each and every snap of the ball.
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George Keller and John Nugent |
That night we did not forget the other seniors, who gave so much of themselves to make our playing days so memorable. Each one holds a special place in our hearts: – Chris Pavlakos, Ronnie Stonerock, Dave Annis, Ronnie Reece, Gus Kontonickas, Ronnie House, Jeff Allen, and Bob Evans. Bob even sent me a most wonderful e-mail expressing how much he would love to be at the reunion, but living in California made it out of the question.
These were the “magnificent seven,” who, for a brief moment in time, got to re-live a part of their youth, where they were truly the power behind the “Power “I” formation.” That night in February proved to be a very precious gift to us all.
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The Human Side
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Magda Wilson Houtz
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It Grows
It grows…multiplies; and becomes a toe stubber, coat rack or rug dryer. Of course I am talking about the recumbent exercycle, gizelle, tummy stretcher, treadmill and “whatsa housa” that you found at a “great price” some time ago. You swore that you would religiously use it to gain back your youthful figure that keeps eluding all of us. We are all guilty, me probably more than most.
Mine sits between the dining and living room. It stares at me. Sometimes I stumble over it. Occasionally, I change the batteries in the timer. After all, we have to keep it in good working order. This gizelle actually replaced one that I wore out. Now it gathers dust. And I feel guilty each time I look at it.
Last week I was cleaning the work room closet and ran across the ballet bar that my Father made for me. How that bar has gone from house to house and marriage to marriage. Now it sits in the closet and waits to rear its ugly head, like a menacing snake, and remind me that it is there waiting.
I remember beautiful Marilyn Hamlin Stockstill; telling me that now in her retirement, she has an exercise schedule that she adheres to every day. And she looks like she does. Marilyn is in terrific shape. I need her determination. I need motivation. I need to clean the closet and get rid of some of this junk or just go for a long walk.
But neither thing is going to happen. One morning I will roll out of bed, stub my toe on the gizelle before my coffee; - unthinkable, - and get mad enough to give it a really hard workout. Then maybe I will be on the road again and maybe I will get that determination back.
For your HEART’S sake, get that exercise machine out of the closet, dust it off and get started. I am. But first I want to have my coffee, and look at the paper…Skype rings…and oh my, I am going to be late…gotta run…..
Respectfully submitted,
Magda Wilson Houtz
PS….we have a Wii. I love to work out on the Sports Plus and play games on the Wii Sports. Ed liks the orginal Wii and the Sports. We have moved on into the 21st century!
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| The Holidays are finally over and we are all limping back to normality, whatever that is. Ed and I were sitting in a restaurant having breakfast and as usual I was people watching. Now let me explain. I am an artist of sorts and I watch people, animals and the roadside when I am not driving. It is a habit I picked up from my father who would draw an interesting looking person, etc., or anything he could find when sitting in an audience. I am almost as bad. Anyway to continue
A couple got up from a table not far from us and they caught my eye because they would have made an awesome portrait. The man was about six feet tall, curly grey hair and rugged features. The crags and wrinkles in his skin were brought on by years of hard work, drinking and cigarette smoking. He was carrying a portable oxygen tank. He was surprisingly spry for his health problem. Dressed in old work pants, a tee shirt and jacket, he reminded me of many of the hard working fathers we all knew.
Behind him was a slight woman, gently bent. What struck me was her dress and demeanor. She had on jeans, a white sweater, Reeboks and a huge tan winter jacket that came down almost to her knees. On top of her head was a light purple hat with ear flaps. It was so of character for the way she carried herself and the way she walked -- several steps behind her husband. Her eyes were set on him and only him.
They love each other. You could tell. The man turned and took his wife's arm as they walked through the door to the parking lot. A look passed between them, a spark, an understanding. They had been together for a long time and time was creeping up on them. It was visible.
That morning I learned something about myself. In this game of life I have forgotten to love like I would like to do. My family and friends deserve more understanding and consideration from me but I get caught up in the survival of life and aging, I have forgotten. So do all of us in one way or another. We do not mean to; it just happens. We show love in many ways, volunteering, hugging our grandkids, cooking for our families, vacations and etc, but just for the new year let's all make a resolution to say I love you at least once per day to someone special to you. Perhaps if we all practiced this action our world would be a kinder place to live, but th at is a subject for another day.
So my classmates
I love you! Have a wonderful New Year and remember
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Respectfully submitted,
Magda Wilson Houtz
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Welcome October |
Welcome October: the changeover to Fall and the slow onset of Winter. But before the leaves all fall, and the days completely change, Halloween Happens. For those of you, who celebrate Halloween, enjoy this article. For those who don’t …read something else. I remember when we dressed for Beggar’s Night. We made our own costumes. My Father, the artist, said that we needed to expand our creativity. We had a ball. We convinced our Mother to help us with sewing, and raided our Brother’s and Father’s closets for all kinds of stuff. And on time, we were ready for Beggars’ Night. But was Beggar’s Night ready for us?
Forget the plastic pumpkins. We took pillow cases, raced up and down the streets; ran home to drop off our bounty and out the door again. Of course being the youngest, my second time home I had to stay, so consequently my bag was really heavy. But it was worth it. In those days we did not have to be so afraid of Mrs. McConnaughey’s cookies or Mrs. Jone’s homemade candy. Apples came from everywhere and all kinds of treats were distributed by our wonderful neighbors. Candy was of course the top of the list and we knew everyone and what kind of treats they gave out …thanks of course to my sister and her friend who always hit the houses first. We even knew who gave out coke, and many times in the future, that was my treat for my neighbor kids. In the end we came home to my Mother’s house, made donuts, fresh from the fryer and warm cinnamon cider. Wow. What a great way to end a Halloween evening!
And when we finally got down to sorting our candy…the Reeces went first. They are still one of my favorite candies today. Everything was sorted and bagged up, and we were allowed to have our candy. I imagine that my parents figured we would find our own fill levels; and they were right.
We carved pumpkins, washed the seeds and roasted them. And my Mother always reserved a small pumpkin to make cookies and pies. And somehow those pies made it to the Thanksgiving table. What a great time in our lives.
And if you remember our old house…we had bats…lots of bats. They came in under the eaves of the roof and October was their witching month. I can not tell you how many times a bat interrupted a party - or a date...what fun. 
Walking to school became a little colder, rustling through the leaves and watching our breath take a ghostly form. At Jefferson, we had parties with homemade treats from the room mothers, and more active play on the playground with all of the healthy sugar running through our veins. In later years, Halloween changed and during my children’s years of Halloween we could not be so carefree. Society changed and the old days were left behind.
But here is October, the memory of Halloween, hayrides and bon fires in high school and the smell of smoke from burning wood fires in the fire place. A light touch of snow and winter is on us again. AH Halloween, and October. Cuddle up by that fire and remember. It is good for the soul.
Respectfully submitted,
Magda Wilson Houtz
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The Garage
We have all seen the signs. We have all felt the need. We have all participated in one way or another whether to give to charity or to go to the trouble to have one. We have all at some time or another done THE GARAGE SALE. Oh My!
I can remember when I was a kid and there were Estate Sales and auctions; fancy names for the birth of the garage sale. My father found many antiques and interesting art effects at these sales. Somehow over the years the “sale” evolved and became the “garage sale”.
It is like a fever…when you become affected, it takes a while to soothe and cure. Although I do not believe there really is a cure. It starts quite honestly by simply stopping at one garage sale. Here you accidently find that Tupperware lid you have been looking to replace for five years. You buy it for twenty five cents. Wow! Wasn’t that lucky? In reality, no. You have passed the first step to becoming “hooked” on garage sales. The next time you stop at a sale you are a “goner”.
If you are like me, you will take that lid home and suddenly realize that you discarded that Tupperware a long time ago. Oh well, into the discard box …the one that is waiting to be part of your coming garage sale. Only you are not yet aware of this coming sale.
And on it goes.
Over the years the “garage sale” has evolved into flea markets and thrift stores; big family and organizational garage sales where you can buy anything from books to zithers. Clothes, baby items, picture frames, furniture and on and on it goes. The big garage sale is the thrift store. You can buy designer clothes, milk glass, many books, VCR tapes, old records and let us not forget…anything wicker your heart desires. And of course on the way to the thrift store, you drop off your contributions to the charity thrift store. Just another form of garage sale - recycling.
I look for old books and lamps. This past weekend I attended a big garage sale at Hithergreen and bought a beautiful hand leaded tiffany chandelier for my dining room and a bread machine that was brand new. But of course I was just contributing to charity. I have recovered from the garage sale fever.
…oh my…there is a big family sale off 48 this weekend. I had better call Janet. We need to go early when they open on Thursday …and also a sale at the church across the street from that sale ………
Respectfully submitted,
Magda Wilson Houtz
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Communication
I was cruising around on Face book this evening, when it dawned on me that our communication has changed drastically; but has it really changed that much? If you will remember in the late 50’s and early 60’s our forms of communication were clusters of people at school; and notes being passed under the noses of our teachers. I am sure they chose to ignore them. Then radio and television became a little more informative. However, the telephone had come into its own. Oh My! When we were old enough to talk on the phone it was really the “cat’s meow”!
I remember my poor Father. He was so clueless when it came to me, that he just was lost in left field. To give some history here, my parents were 40 when they had me. When I was in my teens, it was all over for them. I was not a bad girl, I was just terribly independent. That is what they taught me to be. As it always seems to do; my education came back to bite them. They had no control, no chance of redeeming control and now they had a telephone and I had possession. I had also discovered boys. Ah the teen years and our major communication…the telephone.
First my Father tried suggesting that I limit my calls to five minutes because someone may try to call our home and it would be impolite to keep the phone busy. That did not work. Then Dad kept a list of the calls I was allowed to make …three per night, five minutes each, 15 minutes each night …right! Finally, he resorted to you will not believe this - an egg timer! Eventually he just gave up and I became a full fledged teenager - serving my time on the phone. Now in all honesty, not a whole lot has changed.
There are more phones in our homes, more lines, cell phones and computers, and with computers, - e-mail, chat rooms, yahoo groups and the like evolved. Then enters Face book, the Granddaddy of all communication experiences for teens and adults alike. Here we talk and share experiences much like we did as teenagers on the phone. Some of our Face book counterparts spend a lot of time online…communicating. So you see, everything evolves and history repeats itself. I can only hope that my experiences with my dear Father made it easier for me deal with my own children; and hopefully they will be prepared for their teenagers. Uh OH. My cell phone is ringing oopps! I mean singing...it is my Granddaughter…she is three. Her poor Father thinks she is just playing at talking to me while she pushes her Princess grocery cart around the family room.
Oh well ………
Respectfully communicated,
Magda Wilson Houtz
Attitude
As we become “of age,” the atmosphere of our youth begins to change.
Perhaps the most significant change was the beginning of the memorial
list from our class. The next was the destruction of our hallowed walls.
But most of all is the change that has overcome all of us. We grew up.
There are those who drew well from the gene pool; and are as healthy
and vibrant as they were way back when. There are those who have to
work at it; and those who have succumbed and have died. Vickie Brown,
Jeff Allen and many others, gone from our class but, not forgotten.
Those of us who remain, have a duty to carry on the legacy and to live
as well and happy as possible. I for one, intend to live to be an old, old
lady, as long as my old heart holds out. And of course, to be a burden
to my children.
I believe that I survive all of the adversities in my life with one absolute attribute. Attitude. I have faced death three times and each time
I have refused to give up.
I took over Tom Bradrick’s class at Hithergreen Center; coordinating and teaching ceramics. Yes me. Can you imagine? In this wonderful place I have met many people who are ages older than I am, fighting illness and disabilities and they are an absolute hoot! Never have I experienced such determination and positive thinking.
There is an exercise room, which is Dayton’s most undiscovered treasure. In this room 70, 80 and seniors over 90, exercise, lift weights and work out on all kinds of machines. They are in better shape than you could possibly imagine. They have accomplished all of this with ATTITUDE.
Being one of the “youngsters” of the group, I can never get by with a non- smiling face; or a day of feeling badly because there is always someone to smile, give me a hug and cheer me up. These people have lived through several wars, deaths, tragedies, good times and many other things. They are alive and I mean more alive than I feel some days when I have to drag my poor sorry body out of bed.
I take a cue from the Seniors. You see I am not one, because in my mind I am still 30, and I have remembered to love life: to take the ATTITUDE that I am a very lucky person. I have Ed in my life, beautiful children, grandchildren, and my loyal dogs. My parents were wonderful people. The big change here is that my sister and brother and I are the elders of our family. YIKES!!!
May fate grant all of us the strength to gain health and success with attitude in our coming later years. I, for one, intend to be a very young 90 year old lady someday and maybe I will inspire a young 64 year old youngster.
May the road rise to meet you, may the wind be always at your back and may your God hold you in the palm of his hand.
Be Well,
Magda Wilson Houtz
Hithergreen Center is located in the Centerville - Washington Township area:
The Hithergreen Center
5900 Hithergreen Drive
Dayton Oh 45429
www.hithergreen.org
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Greetings Classmates,
Recently we took a trip back to the old neighborhood. Judy Zimmeramn Parejko came to visit me for a week and we tramped around the old area and visited some of the old haunts. We made it back to CW with Phil Clarke from the class of 70 and watched as the foundation was bulldozed, destroyed and being loaded into very large dump trucks to be hauled away. It was rather sad but time does march on.
We visited old places, EJ Brown School, Fouts Market, the Library on Salem, my home on Amherst, Ed’s house on Marathon, Judy’s on Brookview and Grace Methodist Church. Some places were in great shape others were rather sad. Please enjoy the pics. There will more trips to the other feeder schools and areas of interest that we all remember. We have included a few extras, see if you can remember them.
Click here to see some extra pictures...
Click Here to view My Snapfish Photo Album
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History Chronicle And Insights 1961-1962
by
Jim Rowlands |
1961
I have just had a most joyful Christmas Eve celebrating with my family like so many of you, who are reading this article, do each year. It is late that night; the sounds of laughter and mirth have faded away, the wrapping paper is in the trash, the dishes had been washed and put away, and the house is still and hushed. Sitting in my favorite chair, I take a few moments to look at our Christmas tree with all of its sparkling lights and beautiful ornaments, - some very old, dating back to my childhood days; -others reflecting my life as a husband, a teacher, and father of two. However, the one ornament that catches my eye, was specially-made to symbolize the newest addition to the Rowlands family, - my first grandchild, Jane. Her name is magical to me because my daughter, Brittainney, named her after my mother.
Earlier in the evening, when I held Jane in my arms, and gazed into her smiling face; I was suddenly flooded with memories of Christmas’ long ago when my parents made Christmas the most special day of the year. In an instant, my mind rewinds time back to my youth, when I was full of life, adventure, and great promise. My tomorrows are many, my dreams abound, and for an instant I let my mind transport me back to my sophomore year at Colonel White High school. The year is 1961-1962, - a time to remember!
To continue my theme of recanting tales of my football narrative, I take you, my reader, back to my first encounter with varsity football. New coaches, new expectations, new friends and new realizations awaited me and my classmates of 1964. When I stepped on the practice field for the first time, a sea of humanity filled my eyes. There must have been over 100 players trying out for the team. I thought to myself, what chance did I have of making the varsity squad? However, my football innocence was short lived, when on my first day of football practice Coach Eby called all of the quarterbacks and centers together to practice taking snaps. There were about six of us centers and I could tell I was dead last on the depth chart. Matter of fact, after a few quarterback center exchanges; I saw one of my new coaches smile at me; and while shaking his head he began to chuckle. Nick, the quarterback I was working with, patted me on my helmet and said “not to worry about it, coach was probably laughing at him.”
On the second day of practice, there had been a sudden transformation. I had moved up to number three on the depth chart - (and so had my new quarterback friend.) I was both ecstatic and at the same time, mystified! Later that day our starting varsity quarterback took me aside and told me, with a huge smile on his face, why I had been moved up on the depth chart so quickly.
He explained that all the quarterbacks had approached coach Eby after the first practice and pointed out to the coach, that they liked taking snaps from me, rather than any other center. Upon hearing that, I naturally became full of myself, until, he unveiled the truth behind the mysterious promotion. He whispered, “all the other centers wore protective cups and that hurt the QB’s fingers each time they took a snap.” Protective cup I thought! What’s a cup? I was so clueless. Well that sobering news sure brought me down to earth, as only “good old Charlie Brown” would understand. Obviously, I was still learning the finer nuances of football.
I now asked myself, what would come next and at what price? The answer to that question came rather quickly. My front teeth! Remember, I was a lowly scrub sophomore, and naturally, I received the worst equipment.
So when it came time to suit up, I was given a choice of helmets - either a white freshman helmet with a protective cage or a golden varsity helmet with one bar for a face mask. Da! I choose the varsity one. When the coaches called for defensive practice, I thought to myself (at a mire 137 pounds,) I’d better try out for a safety or cornerback position. However, my line coach had other vastly different ideas. He called my name to practice with the defensive line. What! What did my ears hear? Defensive line! There had to be a mistake! No there was no mistake. I was now a 137 pound defensive lineman. I am sure my coaches wanted to see if I had the guts and determination to be a football player. During one of the notorious tackling drills, (called the meat grinder or hamburger drill), I was given the football and told to run at a 220 pound defensive tackle … and thus I became a live tackling dummy. As the whistle screamed, I found myself facing my moment of truth. Did I have the heart to be a varsity warrior? This giant “Shrek”- like lineman picked me up and slammed me to the ground with a picture perfect tackle. His thundering presence had separated both, me from the football, and my two front teeth from my smile. As “Shrek” helped me up, he said, “Hey Rowlands, welcome to Varsity Football!” But what I remember the most was my line coach turning to the other players and in a loud voice saying, “Rowlands may be small, but, he has the heart and guts we want to see in all our players.” The coach then smiled and sent me to see the manager. Those few words put to rest any doubts or fears; I had about wanting to play football. Everyone slapped me on the shoulder pads and congratulated me. I had made a few more friends that day even though I would be on a liquid diet for the next week.
As the manager wiped off the blood, sweat, dirt, and yes tears, he ever so gently pulled my two front teeth back into position, “I thought to myself, a lot of good that facemask did!” I now had my smile back, but it hurt too much to smile. Ironically, the next day, I had a new facemask and to my surprise, mouth guards were issued soon after. Just call me “Lucky!”
As two-a-day practices mercifully ended, it was time for school to begin. It was now September 1961. Little did our sophomore class realize that we would be on the threshold of one of the most turbulent decades in American History? As one author puts it, “the times they were a changing.” But, like all teenagers, we were self-absorbed with our school life at Colonel White, rather than the troubling events of 1961-1962. We looked forward to Friday night football games, socializing at the White House, dances, hanging out at Parkmoor with our friends and a myriad of other school functions.
1961 – 1962 A time of innocence and a lifetime of memories
Events of 1961 – 1962 / How many do you remember?
Major Events of 1961
John F. Kennedy becomes the 35th President
U.S. B-52 bomber carrying two nuclear weapons crashes in North Carolina
Beatles perform for the first time
US commitment to Vietnam
Bay of Pigs Invasion
Freedom Riders attacked in Birmingham, Alabama
Yuri Gagarin becomes the first human in space
Ernest Hemingway commits suicide
CHARLIE Brown successfully flies his Kite
Construction of the Berlin Wall begins
First grey alien is reported
Roger Maris hits 61 home runs
Yankees beat the Reds in the World Series
Celtics destroy the St. Louis Harks for the NBA championship
Ohio State goes 8-0-1
Erie Davis wins the Heisman Trophy
Popular Songs
“Pony Time” Chubby Checker
“Surrender” Elvis Presley
“Blue Moon” The Marcles
“Runaway” Del Shannon
“Mother-in-Law” Ernie K-Doe
“Travelin Man” Ricky Nelson
Popular Movies
The Guns of Navarone
The Absent-Minded Professor
The Parent Trap
Swiss Family Robinson
Exodus
Alamo
101 Dalmations
Academy Awards
Best Picture: “West Side Story”
Best Actor: Maximilian Schell … “Judgment at Nuremberg”
Best Actress: Sophia Loren … “Two Women”
Grammy Awards
Song of the Year: “Moon River” Henry Mancini
Male Vocalist: Jack Jones … “Lollipops and Roses”
Female Vocalists: Judy Garland
Most Popular Television Shows
1. Wagon Train (NBC)
2. Bonanza (NBC)
3. Gunsmoke (CBS)
4. Perry Mason (CBS)
5. The Red Skelton Show (CBS)
6. The Andy Griffith Show (CBS)
7. The Danny Thomas Show (NBC)
8. Dr. Kildare (NBC)
9. Candid Camera (CBS)
Cost of Living 1961- 1962
Yearly Inflation Rate 1.07%
Average Cost of a new house $12,500.00
Average Income $5,315.00
Average Cost of a gallon of gas 27 cents
Average Cost of a new car $2,850.00
45 rpm record $1.00
Loaf of bread 20 cents
Minimum hourly wage $1.25
Pound of ground beef 35 cents
Fast food hamburger 20 cents
You need today $586 to buy what $100.00 would buy you in 1961 - 1962
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History Chronicle And Insights 1960-1964
by
Jim Rowlands |
| 1960
It is June of 1960, we have just said goodbye to our assorted elementary schools E.J. Brown Fairview Jefferson Loos Longfellow Van Cleve - Cornell Heights - Hawthorne
and Fairport. Now the long hot days of summer vacation marked by the joys of swimming, playing basketball and baseball or just sleeping in, eagerly await us. Then those oh so few summer days swiftly faded away and September fast approached. With the new school year; each of us incoming Colonel White freshmen had a million questions running through our minds. Who would be in my homeroom? How would we be treated by the feared upper classman? Would any of my best friends be in class with me? Would I make any new friends? Could I be able to find all of my classes on the first day? Could I open my locker, locate my books and get to class on time? Might I be so lucky as to sit next to any good looking girls? But, most importantly to me, would the cafeteria food be any good? For me, the anxieties of the first few days were quickly forgotten and replaced with other more troubling uncertainties.
So what was the big news story as we entered our freshman year?
The one story that overshadowed all other topics for most of us was the on- going saga of the mighty Cougar football team. The 1960 varsity football squad was, without a doubt, the greatest high school football team the city of Dayton has ever produced. Pound for pound, they dominated each and every opponent and would win the city football championship over our archrival, the Chaminade Eagles. The championship game was played at Welcome Stadium before a cheering crowd of over ten thousands fans. At the end of the game the scoreboard lights would read Colonel White 32 Chaminade 14. These now legends of the gridiron would set a benchmark for all future Cougar football squads to endeavor to achieve.
As for me - and I can imagine many other newbie's - the trepidations surrounding our chosen extracurricular activities loomed large in our minds. I was taking up organized football for the very first time and I didn't know any of the nuances of the game. Let me illustrate this point. When I tried out for the freshman basketball team, my coach asked me why my knees were all cut-up and back and blue. He sarcastically asked didn't you wear any knee pads during football season? I immediately fired back of course I did. (Knee pads what were knee pads?) I was so new to the game of football I didn't know we had been given any pads to protect our knees.
My football naiveté would be equally match by my gullibility on the basketball court. I had been raised by my Dad, a local sports legend, to play hard and practice good sportsmanship. Well, the value of good sportsmanship would be truly tested during a freshman basketball game at Kaiser High School . Kaiser had an outstanding guard who was killing us, and the hostile crowd loved his every basket. In the second half, our coach had a sudden epiphany. He strolled down to the end of the bench (my traditional spot) and sat down next to me. He put his arm around me and said Jim, I want you to go into the game and guard number 12 (a future all-city basketball star I might add). My heart soared, because my game was playing hard-nose defense. I had been given a golden opportunity to prove my worth to my teammates. And then to my utter dismay and chagrin, he instructed me in a very direct and forceful manner to do whatever it takes to get him (Kaiser's scoring machine) out of the game. I looked at him with an unbelieving stare. Somehow I got up the courage to ask coach what he meant? He angrily said do it or else! I understood what that implied, I would never play for him again. As I reached the scorers table to report in, I looked up at my Father, our eyes met for a fleeting moment and I knew I couldn't do what the coach demanded, even if it meant, not playing for the rest of the year. After the game (by the way we won) the Kaiser super star came over to me and said great game 15 and I replied back, you too 12! How could I ever imagine, in a few years, we would become best friends? And to this day, each time we get together, we always reminisce back to that freshman basketball game at Kaiser High School . He still insists that Kaiser won that fateful day. Maybe we both won that day.
So as school began in September of 1960, so did our journey of discovery. The 60's would prove to be a decade of challenge and trial, anguish and achievement for us as individuals and our nation.
Quite possibly the 1960's would prove to be one of the most significant times in American history. The traditional worlds of music, dance, theater, fashion, sports, politics, human rights, and family values were being seriously tested and challenged by our generation. As we look back on our high school days some 47 years ago, we are left with a kaleidoscope of memories. We now have only fleeting memories that have become just transient glimpses back on those formidable years at Colonel White High School .
In the world around us the Cold War raged and continued to become colder. Nikita Khrushchev pounds his shoe on a table at a U.N. meeting shouting we will bury you. A Soviet Sam missile shoots down a United States U2 spy plane with Francis Gary Powers taken prisoner. Senator Kennedy first suggests the idea for the Peace Corps . The U.S. Supreme Court upholds a Federal Court ruling that Louisiana 's segregation laws are unconstitutional . The United States announces that 3,500 American soldiers are going to be sent to Vietnam . The American Heart Association links smoking to heart disease and death in middle aged men.
The sexual revolution took its initial step with Hugh Hefner opening his first Playboy Club in Chicago . I know each time we take a shower we re-live the scene from the 1960 movie Psycho. The now famous Kennedy and Nixon first TV presidential debate takes place. We were all dancing to Chubby Chequer's new dance called the Twist. Topping the Rock and Roll music chart was the King himself-Elvis with It's Now or Never and Are You Lonesome Tonight . Do you also remember these oldies but goodies Alley Oop , Cathy's Clown , and my all time favorite " Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Polka Dot Bikini ? On a much sadder note, no longer would we hear the familiar voice of Buffalo Bob saying Say Kids, what time is it? for Howdy Doody was taken from us and replaced with a new kids show - Sesame Street. A boxing legend will come in to his own with Cassius Clay, telling the world I am the greatest, while winning a gold medal in the 1960 Rome Olympics. Wilma Rudolf dazzles the sports world by winning three track gold medals becoming one of the greatest female athletes of all times. Ohio State wins the NCAA National Basketball championship. Aluminum cans would be used for the first time and to the future delight of the beer drinking world.
One memory I have cherished for a lifetime, came during my study hall class, when I heard Bill Mazeroski of the Pittsburg Pirates, with one swing of his bat, had won the World Series; beating the New York Yanks 4 games to 3. My father, a former minor league baseball player for the Pirates, had told me with the greatest of confidence, that the Pirates would win the seventh game of the World Series. Every time I see the news clips of Mazeroski's fateful homerun, I fondly recall my Dad, who never ceased to amaze me. He truly was my hero.
How much did things cost back in 1960:
Average cost of a new house $12,700.00
Average cost of a home $2,530.00
Average monthly rent $98.00
Gas per gallon 25 cents
Average cost of a new car $2,600.00
Loaf of bread 20 cents
Movie ticket 69 cents
Stamp 4 cents
Milk 41cents
Can of Beef Ravioli 30 cents
What were the top ten TV shows of 1960?
Gunsmoke
Wagon Train
Have Gun Will Travel
The Andy Griffith Show
Candid Camera
The Untouchables
The Price is Right
77 Sunset Strip
My Three Sons
The Ed Sullivan Show
1960 would be the year that launched the Colonel White Class of 1964 on its long journey of discovery.
What would 1961 bring?
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1960-1964
I was asked if I wanted to write an article for our website. I said yes, knowing it would be a labor of love trying to come up with something interesting to write about. I loved my high school experiences, but hate to write. Now, you must know something about me and writing/reading.
First of all I should have been writing this article for the class of 63, because I was retained in the third grade at good old E.J. Brown Elementary. As with all kids (like me) on the last day of school, I picked up my report card, briefly glancing at it, and began to race home to start my long summer vacation. Hell, I didn't even know I was retained because I couldn't even read much of the report card.
When I got near my house my big brother Bob, with a big smile on his face, snatched my grade card from my hands and in front of all his friends informed me, I had failed third grade. Years later I told myself, I really didn't fail; I was retained in the third grade for a second go around. How much more comforting that sounds, rather than being labeled a failure!
Twenty years ago I would have been diagnosed as a student who had learning disabilities or in the educational jargon of the day an LD-student. However today, I would be sent to a doctor who would pronounce me a prime candidate for Ritalin, in other words, I was would have been diagnosed as having ADD or more likely ADHD. Current educational wisdom refrains from failing or retaining students with initials. It's bad for the student's self-esteem. Just my luck to be educated before initials!
My writing/reading odyssey faired only slightly better in high school. I was passing English and Literature with C's and B's - God only knows how? I happily graduated from Colonel White High School and was accepted by Wright State University in 1964. After passing freshman English on the third try, my college resume began to pick up. You might be asking how did I ever pass college English? Well I had a little help from my big brother Bob, who was also attending WSU. Bob my childhood tormentor, became my mentor.
Keep in mind he was a published author of poetry, short stories, a college literary magazine contributor and future outdoor editor for a local newspaper. Now it didn't hurt my English grade either, when my brother Bob became good drinking buddies with my English professor. You don't have to be Sherlock Homes to figure out how I passed freshmen English.
My educational odyssey gave birth to a passion to teach. Since leaving the hollowed halls of Colonel White High School and graduating from WSU I have been teaching American History for 37 rewarding years. Who would have guessed?
I have always tried to be a positive role model to my students proving to them that learning obstacles can be surmounted. I have learned that students don't care how much you know, they only want to know how much you care.
So now you know why writing is such a labor of love for a person who was born before educational initials. I plan on writing a few articles for our web page that chronicles the years 1960 through 1964. The articles will focus on some of the major events during our high school years. The topics will range from sports to politics and everything else in between. Let's see how much you and I can recall of the events that shaped our lives, our fortunes, and our destiny.
Please write in to the web site and share your thoughts, recollections and experiences while at Colonel White.
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By Buck Arnold
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While attending Colonel White, I was working on my power and glider pilot licenses. Several of our class mates were brave enough to fly with me at the Soaring Society of Dayton flight facilities then located in Richmond , IN and Waynesville , OH . Dagmar Taudine and her father, who flew gliders in Germany, were among my first victims. Paul Gustin, Steve Dohme and Jack Wegledge flew with me on several occasions. Looking into my old log book, I see we had some great flights.
I wound up going to California State University in Sacramento and continued my gliding experiences in the high Sierras. There are a number of forms of lift in gliding and all are present in the Sierras.
Thermaling is circling below cumulus clouds hopefully in lift. Most people have seen this done by larger birds and even in Ohio I have joined birds in a thermal. It would become exciting when several chicken hawks would start diving at you to try to drive you off from their thermal. I guess they did not like flying with a bird that was bigger than them. In Ohio , rising 400 feet a minute was a good day. In the Sierras, 800 to over 1,000 a minute, was common and the lift really pushes you into your seat. It was not uncommon to reach 16,000 to 18,000 feet over the Sierras in a thermal. Yes we fly oxygen equipped.
When the wind blows against a mountain side, it creates a form of lift known a ridge soaring. Many of you have seen sea gulls using this lift while soaring the shoreline and almost becoming suspended as they use the lift and their forward motion in equal proportions. Working this kind of lift brings you close to the mountains and allows you to cover a great distance in a short amount of time.
With out a doubt, wave soaring is the most exciting thing I have done. If you have been to a river and seen fast moving water roll over a rock, you will notice that the water drops down over the rock and then goes back up even if there is not a second rock to push the water up. Now take that same principle and add a storm front and air mass hitting a mountain range and you have wave soaring. Getting into a wave usually takes place behind a tow plane and staying in formation is a challenge due to the rough air associated with the edge of the wave. Once you are in the wave it is a s smooth as glass with lift taking you up at over 1,000 feet per minute. I was in a wave over the Sierras and went to 23,500 feet and had to pull out of lift due to my oxygen equipment restrictions not allowing flight over 24,000 feet. The picture to the left gives you an idea of how it looks from the cockpit in a Sierra Wave.
 
Three summers had passed from our graduating from CW when I had a great flight in Switzerland flying through the Switzer Ural Alps . Flying formation with two other gliders, we flew through mountain passes and landed for lunch at a glider port before starting back. I did become a bit concerned when the guys I was flying with had a beer with their lunch. No big deal to them. It is an extreme violation of flight rules here in the US . It was the highlight of my 21 st year and a summer in Europe . The picture below will give you an idea of what the flying was like. We would all call to each other on the radio when lift was found. I would never have attempted the flight if it was not for my German and Swiss friends that I was flying with.
I discovered a new form of lift when flying in the remnants of Hurricane Charley last year in NC now my new home. We took off and the ground air was dead still. It was overcast and I expected no lift and just a sled ride back to the airport. As we neared the clouds, I could see that they were boiling and I was in lift. Normally this is not the case. I talked to several weather guys and the only thing we could figure out was that Charlie's cold air was pushing down on the warm ground air resulting is a massive uplift of air.
I hope to see all of you at the reunion.
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CW Class of 64,
I just happened upon your new web-site today and Wow! You guys did a wonderful job on it! It's now been added to my computer's "favorites list". I've followed the Class of ' 63 website for several years and their site too is very well done. I can't believe what good pictures you were able to share. The Class of ' 64 still has beautiful "young" ladies and very handsome guys.
Your October get-together was hugely successful. A great idea from some special folks. Good luck with future gatherings.
Over the many years I've had various contacts with many, many high school graduating classes and yours and the CW Class of ' 63 are the best, by far. And, it seems to be the season to say "I approve this message".
Regards and best wishes to all. I always thought you were a very special class and your creative website is further proof of my theory. I'm well and wish you the best.
Lee Whitaker |
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