Loos Kazak Homeroom 1959-60

Top Row:
Victor Office, Boots Brown, Carl McClure, Carl Woessner, Buck Arnold, Barbara Beerman, Jeff Allen, Connie Patten,
2nd Row down: Martha Manier, ?, Kathy Wisuri, Kathy Miller, Ronnie Stonerock, ? Mr Kazak
3rd Row from top: ? Diana Bollinger, Charlotte Lewis, Linda Weber,Jan Bosworth, Jane Martin, Larry Matzik, Linda Anderson.
On the floor: I could not remember any but the kid on the far right Gary Burt

Loos Basketball Team 1959-60

Cheerleaders:
Sandy Carter, Shirley Floyd, Sally Teafanov, Cathy Garber, Karen Flaherty, Marilyn Hamlin, Robin Soifer.
Center Row: Denny Koontz, Arthur Ashbaugh, John Cromer, Carl Woessner, Harley Pence,Tom Zimmerman, ?, Larry Matzen, Tim Shultz, Mr. Bradley.
Top Row: ? Paul Guston, Jeff Allen, ? John Nugent, ? Mike Fonderheit, Nick Stamas, Paul Speert, Victor Office

Middle back (4th row) - Chris Pavlakos; to his left Margie Swearingen;

3rd row, 1st next to teacher Jean Smith (deceased), 2nd in - Harold Pigg; to his right Gail Gulledge; 2nd from rt. (not including principal) - Kathy Wysong;

2nd row, 3rd from left Paul Logan; me to his right, Dana Summers to my right; Penny Wertz at end of row; Carol ? (she's been to our reunions) next to her;

Front row George Staton left (deceased - he went on to Wilbur Wright). Maybe you can ID a few more...

Mr. Karl Farnlacher was a long time American History teacher at Colonel White High School. I (Doug Holdeman) met Karl as a sophomore. He became a mentor and friend to many students at CW. As an educator he was a unique blend of scholarship, wit and humor.

I am amazed how many of our teachers served during World War II. Karl was also part of that “Greatest Generation.” After his military service, he graduated from Otterbein College. Strangely, this quiet, gentle man toyed with the idea of becoming a professional boxer. One pro bout, however, quickly changed his mind. Alas, pro boxing’s loss was Colonel White’s gain.

When some of us gathered at Karl’s home, he would often eagerly show off some new antique pistol he had found. His gun collection was awesome. These were the days of the Civil War Centennial. Karl would show us one of the guns while recounting how they worked and the strengths and weakness of each weapon. The history of those handguns and the period of their use came alive for us. Karl was also an accomplished pocket watch repairman.

Karl Farnlacher – proud father, devoted husband, teacher, historian, patriot, and mentor. At his funeral, the closing song was “When the Saints Go Marching In.” Undoubtedly, Karl had already marched to Heaven.

Thank you Mr. Farnlacher for your service to the students of Colonel White High School.

I Graduated from CWHS Class of 1970.

Unofficially, I showed up the following September, to the Choir Room. Mrs. Bright was so use to seeing me she did not think anything about it. We were practicing the musical "Jesus Christ Superstar". Mrs. Bright wanted me to sing a solo bass part, so, I sang so low, nobody could hear me (Designed on my part, so someone would not question my being there, L O L ! )

Continued on thru December, Mrs. Bright said to me, "I did not grade your report card". I replied, “I will go to the Main Office, and straighten everything out.” I headed for the nearest Exit, never to return, to her class!

I have never regretted the WONDERFUL Memories of her choir class. Thanks Mrs. Bright :~) !

Note: Mrs. Bright is still living in a nursing home suffering from Dementia as of December 2011; however, her Music is still alive and well in the hearts of her students!

It was especially hard watching the CWHS Choir/ Band Room being destroyed.

Then he wised-up, as he put it, and transferred to the Air Force. More classes, more studying. Many more assignments in the states and overseas. Finally, he was stationed at Wright Patterson Air Force Base (WPAFB). He had worked hard enough and long enough to try for his Chief Master Sergeant’s test. All spring and summer he took classes on everything military, a vast amount of information to learn.

While walking to class one day, he spotted an older woman with a pleasant smile. He nodded to her, and she nodded back. He kept walking to class, thinking that he knew her from somewhere. A few days later, he spotted a small group of Vietnamese people walking the halls at WPAFB, speaking their native dialect. He was curious but continued to his classroom; he had more important things to think about. This continued all spring and summer: this older woman and this group of Vietnamese.

Finally, the day before the big test late in August, his teacher dismissed the class early because it was so hot in the classroom. He stopped a student and asked him, “How do you think you will do on this test?” The student replied honestly, “Not very well. This will be the hardest test I have ever taken.” The student left the classroom rather depressed.
As the student walked down the hallway, he looked up and saw an open classroom door. Before he reached the door, he heard a familiar voice. Immediately, he recognized the voice of that older woman! He passed the door with a big grin on his face and studied most of the night for the big test.

The following day, the student entered his classroom with the same grin. He took the test and was pleased. His teacher stopped him on his way out and said, “If I were a betting man, I would have bet you were not going to show up today. What happened to change your outlook?” The student said you would not believe it if I told you. A few days later the test results came in. This student not only passed the test but was in the top ten percent. He was promoted and, of course, received an increase in pay. He is now retired from the military with a full pension and delivering U.S. mail for the post office in San Antonio, Texas. This student will now let you know who that older, woman teacher was. If you hear an English woman speaking Vietnamese with a Russian accent, you will know it is--Fannie Chazin!

Anyway, on a very nice autumn day the class began as usual. Mr. Matthews announced that we were going to drive the almost-new 1969 Pontiac Bonneville Driver’s Ed car. With a 400 cubic inch engine, automatic transmission and beautiful interior, two other students and I were eager to go.

Mr. Matthews asked who wanted to drive first. I couldn’t wait for an invitation like that, so I slid into the driver’s seat. Mr. Matthews was in the front passenger seat. The two other students climbed into the back seat. Mr. M turned the radio on—WING: Steve Kirk in the Morning. Mr. Matthews informed us that we were going to drive on I-75 southbound. That made my heart jump with excitement! At that time I-75 construction was not finished (is it ever?), but the traffic was very, very light. While I cruised down the highway, Mr. M was relaxed and started to grade a big stack of test papers.

Considering the distance we had traveled, in no way could we have gotten back in time for our next class. He doesn’t want to get a speeding ticket on I-75 because then he would really be in trouble. Plus, he knew I was driving at least 90 mph. What a dilemma! I said to him, “It was my fault for getting you into this mess. Our best solution is to let me drive back. If I get pulled over and ticketed, no one will get in trouble.”

We exited the highway and while driving down the road, Mr. Matthews turned to the students in the back seat and asked, “Is the plan was okay with you?” They answered, “GO FOR IT!” Mr. Matthews said, “Go ahead and drive and I’ll try to finish grading these papers!”

Driving northbound on I-75 to Salem Avenue, to Wabash Avenue, we arrived just in time for the next class. That grading semester I received a “B” on my report card for Driver’s Ed. Mr. Matthews never let me drive on I-75 after that, but whenever he saw me coming down the hallway at CW, he would raise his index finger above his head with a grin, make a circling motion (indicating flashing lights and a siren blaring).

I have been driving now for 40 years and have only received one speeding ticket in all that time. On December 26 I was on my way to get some milk and bread. From the top of Hillcrest Avenue, I coasted down to Main Street. At the bottom of the hill was an unmarked cruiser. He clocked me doing 38 mph in a 30-mph zone. The Dayton police officer’s name? Matthews! Amazing, isn’t it!