Classmate, Suyze Lawson has shared a great set of pictures that really bring back memories from years gone by. I have to admit there were a couple that I did not recognize. But I do not think it was because I was not old enough. 🙂
I received an email from Scott and his wife, Charlotte, summarizing their last couple of years or so. I posted it on our class Facebook page at the link below.
Unfortunately, with the passing of Dee Francis earlier this month, I have updated the In Fond Memory page on our class website.
No, the date has not been changed; it still is September 28th. Yes, it is still going to be at Gini’s new home at
3739 Calle Casino
San Clemente. 92673
The change is Gini wants you to send your $50 RSVP checks, payable to her and to her home address.
Also, she has a block of rooms reserved at the Hills Hotel under Gini Garner Reunion, with Hong Madison as the contact for $129. This is a very good rate. I made my initial reservation independently for $179.
The Hills Hotel
25205 La Paz Road / Laguna Hills / CA 92653 / United States of America
If you live anywhere near the South Bay, you really should check this out. I have gone for the past 10 years or so. It is 8 hours of Bob Dylan songs, with no repeats, and performed by 60 musicians. It is hosted by Andy and Renee and their band Hard Rain.
Go to the link in the above for more info. If you plan to go, let me know, I would love to meet your there for a day of music and catching up.
Below is a sample of the music you will hear at Dylanfest.
Here is the link to their website where you can find out more about them and Dylanfest 29.
This poem was forwarded to me from classmate, Suzye Lawson. She and I thought it would be worth sharing.
1950’s version of an E-Mail
Long ago and far away, in a land that time forgot,
Before the days of Dylan , or the dawn of Camelot.
There lived a race of innocents, and they were you and me,
We longed for love and romance, and waited for our Prince,
Eddie Fisher married Liz, and no one’s seen him since.
For Ike was in the White House in that land where we were born,
Where navels were for oranges, and Peyton Place was porn.
We danced to ‘Little Darlin,’ and sang to ‘Stagger Lee’
And cried for Buddy Holly in the Land That Made Me, Me.
Only girls wore earrings then, and 3 was one too many,
And only boys wore flat-top cuts, except for Jean McKinney.
And only in our wildest dreams did we expect to see
A boy named George with Lipstick, in the Land That Made Me, Me.
We fell for Frankie Avalon, Annette was oh, so nice,
And when they made a movie, they never made it twice..
We didn’t have a Star Trek Five, or Psycho Two and Three,
Or Rocky-Rambo Twenty in the Land That Made Me, Me.
Miss Kitty had a heart of gold, and Chester had a limp,
And Reagan was a Democrat whose co-star was a chimp.
We had a Mr. Wizard, but not a Mr. T,
And Oprah couldn’t talk yet, in the Land That Made Me, Me.
We had our share of heroes, we never thought they’d go,
At least not Bobby Darin, or Marilyn Monroe.
For youth was still eternal, and life was yet to be,
And Elvis was forever in the Land That Made Me, Me.
We’d never seen the rock band that was Grateful to be Dead,
And Airplanes weren’t named Jefferson , and Zeppelins were not Led.
And Beatles lived in gardens then, and Monkees lived in trees,
Madonna was Mary in the Land That Made Me, Me.
We’d never heard of microwaves, or telephones in cars,
And babies might be bottle-fed, but they were not grown in jars.
And pumping iron got wrinkles out, and ‘gay’ meant fancy-free,
And dorms were never co-Ed in the Land That Made Me, Me.
We hadn’t seen enough of jets to talk about the lag,
And microchips were what was left at the bottom of the bag.
And hardware was a box of nails, and bytes came from a flea,
And rocket ships were fiction in the Land That Made Me, Me.
T-Birds came with portholes, and side shows came with freaks,
And bathing suits came big enough to cover both your cheeks.
And Coke came just in bottles, and skirts below the knee,
And Castro came to power near the Land That Made Me, Me.
We had no Crest with Fluoride, we had no Hill Street Blues,
We had no patterned pantyhose or Lipton herbal tea
Or prime-time ads for those dysfunctions in the Land That Made Me,
There were no golden arches, no Perrier to chill,
And fish were not called Wanda, and cats were not called Bill
And middle-aged was 35 and old was forty-three,
And ancient were our parents in the Land That Made Me, Me.
But all things have a season, or so we’ve heard them say,
And now instead of Maybelline we swear by Retin-A.
They send us invitations to join AARP,
We’ve come a long way, baby, from the Land That Made Me, Me.
So now we face a brave new world in slightly larger jeans,
And wonder why they’re using smaller print in magazines.
And we tell our children’s children of the way it used to be,
Long ago and far away in the Land That Made Me, Me.
If you didn’t grow up in the fiftys,
You missed the greatest time in history,
Hope you enjoyed this read as much as I did.
If So, PLEASE FORWARD this note to
someone who will appreciate these memories…
I saw in Facebook that Mr. Milling passed away on January 16, 2019. He was born on December 26, 1930. He was the swimming/water polo coach. Many in our class knew him as Mike in the years since our graduation.