Rob Lane Meets Dave Rorty

It is always a beautiful thing when old track pals get to see one another many years past their glory. This photo was taken in Sarasota, Florida. Here we have David Rorty and Rob Lane together again. They surely reminisced about past track meets and the time we went to the Penn Relays in 1977.

Hope they get the chance to see each other again soon.

A Sign of Spring

When the baseball pitchers and catchers begin their limbering up in places like Florida and Arizona I can't help but smile. Their annual arrival in these warm weather climates heralds the arrival of spring for people like me.

My RHS friends, like Rob Lane, Dave Rorty and Jens Larson, who live year round in these temperate climates I hope remember how it is now in the northeast and how they might have felt the same thing I feel now: a great sense of relief that winter is almost over!

At the bottom of the page are two of my all time favorite lefty pitchers: Lefty Grove and Ron Guidry. You can look up their statistics but I will add that both were fearless and accepted responsibilities. I personally believe the lessons we learn in sports carry over into the lives we live thereafter; if we only bother to remember them. My favorite lesson from my years of participating in sports has always been to dare to be good. This translates into being brave enough to take a chance and deliver more than you promise. It means standing up for what is right and letting the consequences fall as they may.

I sometimes wish we could put up posters in our bedrooms the way we did as kids of our favorite sports heroes. They were so perfect in their limited sphere of influence, and they did influence a great many young people. It would be wonderful if we could do the same with public figures. Though I realize their jobs and choices are much more complicated than Lefty Grove's or Ron Guidry's. I was told by someone who played with Lefty, Doc Cramer, that Lefty truly had one pitch: the fastball. He would dare you to hit it. His 300 wins and his place in the Baseball Hall of Fame seem to indicate this worked for him. In direct opposition is Ron Guidry, who retired before he was ready to leave the scene. He came back a couple years later and pitched a spring training game against the Yankees first team and shut them down. This wasn't an "I told you so moment" for Guidry. In hindsight, Lefty and Guidry stand as role models to all the hard work that has always been necessary to put into the craft of baseball, or any profession. The beauty of sports is sometimes seen in examples of hard work we can all learn from, especially as we examine the level of effort we all put into our own crafts. Play Ball!

The Way We Live Now

I bought a book of stamps the other day. This was quite unusual for me since I write exactly two checks every month and these are required to be sent via US Mail. When I bought this last book it got me thinking  about how we live now as compared to what I call the "simpler time" in which I grew up in Ridgewood. The mail was a much bigger part of our lives in those days. Now it is mostly an afterthought and sometimes a downright inconvenience. When I am feeling very patient I will go down to my local post office and peak in at the people waiting on line to transact their business. Nobody is happy to be there, especially the people working behind the bullet proof glass. It's not that I live in a bad neighborhood, it's only that people become so infuriated at having to wait on line that even the most calm among us might have a bad day and want to throw something after an infuriating wait to do something seemingly simple like pick up a package. The folks at Fedex and UPS I'm sure have seen these lines for themselves and figured out there was a buck to be had in making sure nobody had to suffer in this way.

It wasn't always like this and at one time working at the post office was a respectable middle class profession. Our mailman in Ridgewood lived in Midland Park and knew everyone on his route, including the kids. If you stepped out of line and you might find yourself on the receiving end of a stern warning to watch your step. He was a nice fellow who liked his job and did it well. The little bit of crowd control in the neighborhood I believe he did because he felt it important and something that civic minded people did as a matter of course.

The post office we had in Ridgewood, like it was in many towns, was not a place to be avoided. It produced wonder in many of us as to how they could possibly send so many packages and letters to so many different places in such a reasonable amount of time. If you recall it was 1963 that ZIP codes (Zone Improvement Plan) were introduced and that solved part of the mystery of the postal system's efficiency. Now we look up our Zip codes online and don't have to visit a post office to look through the huge book of zip codes.

In the 1960s ZIP codes were such a great step forward that the fact was advertised on TV.

I would be hard pressed to think of something today which touches all our lives in the same manner. To mention the Internet and all the new Social Networking applications would be a close second to Zip codes because in the old days you depended upon the US Mail. Today there are many people who still do and don't have a thing to do with the Internet. If something comes to mind I'll probably blog about it but I don't hold out much hope for something replacing Mr Zip in terms of importance in everybody's day to day lives.

So Many Unique Lives

We Ridgewood-ers (Ridgewoodians? Whatever) are spread far and wide. And we live very interesting lives. I recently discovered that one of my classmates is a boxing ring announcer. How cool is that?

The idea of a ring announcer got me to thinking. What other unique experiences have we seen? I'm not talking about skydiving, or running a marathon, or bumming around Europe. Those are special and exciting for sure, but they aren't really unusual. Lots of people do all of those things.

So, my question to you is this: What truly unique and unusual experiences have you enjoyed? Post in the comments, or send me an email (kflechtner*at*gmail*dot*com) and I will post your story to the blog. To get things started, here's mine:

I am an architect, and from the late 1990s until 2002, I helped design the Olympic Village for the 2002 Winter Games in Salt Lake City. We were all so excited to work on it, and it was thrilling to watch the athletes compete, knowing that they were living in an environment we had created for them.

What's your unique experience?

Andy Pettite

Andy Pettite is retiring.  Pettitte was 240-138 in 16 seasons in the majors.

I don't blame him as I lost my desire in 1989 for competition, too. Plus, I never contributed to the NYC Experience in the same way as Andy Pettite did. He also carried on longer than most athletes. Though I have to believe that his forthcoming courtroom scenes regarding his friendship with Roger "Rocket" Clemons helped send him into retirement. Once again, I have no qualms with his choice.

Andy Pettite will never make the Baseball Hall of Fame based on regular season statistics, even though his post-season statistics are off the charts. He admitted to using steroids so it will take a Veterans Committee in 10 or 20 years to let him into the Hall of Fame.

I wish Andy the best in his future endeavors as he belongs to the "Big Four" which Super Scout Gene Michael promoted, and who formed the core which won 4 World Series in 5 years.

Andy, enjoy this time with your children. You have five rings and may one day have a special day with your image placed in Monument Park in the New Yankee Stadium. You did all us Yankee fans proud in this past season when you played hurt. If you had come back our opponents would have bunted on you to no end. With a troubled groin this is not something you should attempt at the age of 38.

Carry the fact with you every day that you will be a Yankee legend for the rest of your life. This is a high honor and not something you ever have to prove again.

Internet Bullies

Bullies have been around as long as I can remember. When they are given their comeuppance it always gives one the opportunity to hide a sly smile.

Unfortunately, when children are bullied on the Internet it is quite a but different from the public shame the old time bullies felt when they were shown the error of their ways. This makes the comparison between now and when I was growing up that much more difficult. Truth be told it is harder now. Truth be told we as adults have to take more affirmative action, in order to prevent our alumni from thinking that a jump off the GW Bridge is their best recourse.

Let's resolve to be better every day. To acknowledge that people are different and that they are born a certain way and cannot help it. Let's take the argument away that people have a choice as to how they are born and how they feel during their adolescence and young adulthood. 


I offer this only as a New Year's resolution.

Peace

Mr C. Bertram Harmon--One of the 100 Best Teachers

This post was sent to me by Chris Stella, class of 1973. I haven't changed a word and completely share his sentiment.


"If you attended the George Washington Junior High in the late 1960's, you knew who Mr. C. Bertram Harmon was. He held one of the more difficult civilian jobs on the Eastern Seaboard. He was the only African-American teacher in the middle school which enrolled students from the Country Club side of the rather conservative, Protestant-Catholic-Republican town of Ridgewood, teaching music.
His classroom was a large, and well-lit place, with tall windows overlooking the rutted, caged ballfield. I believe there were some risers, towards the back. On one wall, was a framed, ornate, latinated ancient page of music. On the other side, was a piano, and during Eighth grade, a stereo phonograph in a walnut case appeared, of the sort that normally would belong in your grandmother's parlor.
He always dressed extremely well. He wore well tailored suits, with a perfectly knotted tie, and the cravat was backed by a gold pin, which served to emphasize his high, well-formed and prominent larynx, from which emanated the most interesting observations, in a distinctive, sonorous voice. His facial features were strong, and unambiguously African. He projected a ferocious, active and self-confident, yet fastidious "look".
* * * *
During my first year, Mr. Harmon was very adamant about his dislike for rock 'n roll music. He thought it was childish, and said so frequently, in theatrical tones of mock horror.
However, the next fall, he had a dramatic announcement to make. He said that over the summer he had considered the matter carefully. He decided that such music was a major cultural force, and that some of it, though not all, was of excellent quality and had a great deal to teach.
He informed his astounded audience of junior high school students, who were used to having their musical tastes derided by every authority figure in the universe, that he had decided that he was going to completely revamp a major part of his method of teaching music. We were going to study rock 'n roll music in a serious way. We were going to learn about where it came from. We were going to develop good rock 'n roll taste. Furthermore, as an assignment we would all have the opportunity to choose a song, play it for the class on the walnut-cased phonograph, and analyze its content and musicological qualities, for our teacher and peers.
Mr. Harmon showed us how our favorite songs were rooted in decades and centuries of jazz, blues, and yes, continental African rhythyms. Analyses of popular music now well accepted or even cliche, were heard in very early iteration, in Mr. Harmon's room.
But, my favorite day was the day he showed us that the familiar Beatles Penny Lane" trumpet solo, heard so frequently on the Cousin Brucie WABC top 40 music show, was less George Harrison and John Lennon, than George Handel, and Johann Bach. Mr. Harmon was able to prove that this piccolo trumpet "riff" had been lifted, more or less intact, from Johann and this other George, another Brit who had honed his craft in Hamburg, Germany, though in the 1700's. The proof-by-listening was made so convincingly, that fourty-two years on, I cannot hear any of these compositions without smiling and thinking of Mr. Harmon.
A wave of excitement passed over the class. Surely Mr. Harmon loved, and would have something provocative to say about the last song on the first side of the Magical Mystery Tour album by the Beatles. (This is the one where John Lennon sings about the "elementary Penguins singing Hare Krishna".) But, here, his love of precision and focus took over. We were disappointed:
"During the next class, we will study what is so terribly wrong about 'I am the Walrus'."
For my analytical presentation, I chose the Classics IV tune, "Traces." A sweet little song, but my presentation was disastrous. I was able to demonstrate to the world only my 45 RPM, Five and Dime store musical sensibility.
Others scored wonderful successes. My friend Bill Walstrum, picked "Thinking is the Best Way to Travel", a song by the early Moody Blues. This music was classically based, but also featured numerous interesting electronic effects, which was what you noticed first.
"So, William", Mr. Harmon said. "This music supports the psychedelic drug culture, does it not?" Bill became quite forceful. No, it is anti-drug. The song is saying that your own thoughts can be much more exciting than any substance.
The prominent larynx bobbed, and for once was silent. Mr. Harmon smiled. We had all learned something. Bill had the made the point with power, and succinct elegance.
C. Bertram Harmon's past, was a complete opacity, and he never spoke of it. There was one exception to this. This was the day when he told us, semi-conspiratorially, that in HIS day as a young high school student, when on the dance floor, he'd been known as THE jitterbug King. It was a highly plausible claim.
* * * * * * *
I do not have a complete sense of what the adult town thought of him. The more liberal tendencies of the people who lived in Ridgewood at the time were in part an abstraction, as there was precious little direct contact with people of ANY different color. At a minimum, I would think, at their core, parents of that time would feel a private need to be convinced. To his 1968 students, having an African-American man as your music teacher, was a cool and exotic thing.
However, I do have one 1971 grown-up data point. A friend's mother, a woman of conventional Ridgewood character, once whispered quietly to me that she felt that "the man is a saint, an absolute saint." By this she was not directing my attention to the fact that Mr. Harmon was able to gracefully bear the stress of being the only African-American teacher, or that he was able to master the loneliness which must have been present. Rather, she meant that it had become known that Mr. Harmon cared about his students as people, that his good influence went way beyond his effect on our musical sensibilities.
A boy, it was rumored, had stolen a car. I believe that this boy was a Caucasian. I do not think he could have been a musically-oriented boy. The word was, that Mr. Harmon had used his good agency, to see to it that although the proper penalty was paid, the boys' future prospects were not destroyed.
As for me, during ninth-grade, he taught a music theory course, extremely advanced in scope. It included the requirement that the students compose original music. I took this course, and displayed no talent or aptitude whatsoever. At the end of the year, Mr. Harmon signed my yearbook with a long, carefully written, unique paragraph, in which he hoped for, and had great EXPECTATIONS of, my future success and happiness. It seemed at once so formal, and yet so heartfelt, that I remember it  to this day.
* * * * * * *
The June, 1970 Assembly was memorable. The large chorus, of which I was not a member, performed for the departing students. Their final work, conducted by Harmon, was spectacularly intricate in its construction. In the manner of a baroque fugue, the various voices repeated and interwove, underlining, emphasizing, strengthening.
Mr. Harmon, had advised the student audience to listen carefully to the WORDS that had been set to the music.
"The words need to be listened to, as they will be quite relevant to the contemporary scene."
And, Bach-like, the words were not! In a glorious fugue-like style, each section of the chorus hurled family-type criticisms at a solitary, unseen adolescent. The refrain was:
"What do you have to say for yourself,? Speak up, speak up, SPEAK UP !!"
First the basses took the role of the father, leveling all the usual complaints about poor grades, back-talk, and rudeness. Then the altos played the role of the mother, SINGING the familiar words about neatness, sloppy and provocative dress, rooms not tidy, all sung in perfect fugue way, in gorgeous harmony and high style, directed tightly by Harmon. Finally the tenors and sopranos sang the stock role of the younger siblings harassing the unfortunate, solitary young person. Finally at the conclusion of the choral work the "Speak Up!" refrain was again re-presented in repetitive order, followed by sudden silence.
Then, one student hand-picked by Harmon, someone who fit the role quite precisely, someone who everyone knew was not doing very well, would weakly gulp in a perfect stage whisper just loud enough for the audience to hear, HELP! Everyone laughed.
There could not have been a more appropriate coda to my junior high school years, and so my career at George Washington ended.
* * * * * * *
If I could have only one Magical Mystery wish with Mr. Harmon, I would be quite selfish. Sure, the guy was a pioneer in several ways, do anything you want with that, retire all names starting with the letter "C.", if you want, I'll back you !
But with Mr. Harmon, I would want only one thing. I would want to sit in the back of his class, perhaps on one of the risers, and just listen to his wonderful voice, as he described the beautiful things that he loved, speaking of how they were constructed, how they worked.  I'd stay as long as they let me.
No doubt, after a while Mr. Cobb, or Mr. Egli would come by and tell me that I had to leave, as my presence had become a distraction. Who is that gray-haired Ridgewood man, sitting on the riser, perfectly still, in the back, they would have begun to ask. And, like the man in the song, I wouldn't give any answers!
But, inside, I would want to shake the kids forcefully. Don't you see?
C. Bertram Harmon, the man, with his knowledge, and devotion, and commanding stage presence, at a minimum he could have been a major success as a university-based musicologist.
However, there he was, by his choice, with us.
He had been been placed there by a town, some of whose residents might have denied how well they were doing by us. The Ridgewood adults had been wise in their placing him before us, some, maybe, without knowing the degree of their wisdom. He was a stabilizing aesthetic and personal presence. He is remembered standing, not sitting, in front, as our Junior High School worlds spun 'round, in varying states of control.

Martin Luther King Day

President Reagan signed the holiday into law in 1983, and it was first observed on January 20, 1986. At first, some states resisted observing the holiday as such, giving it alternative names or combining it with other holidays. It was officially observed in all 50 states for the first time in 2000.

I can't say that I remember what I was doing the day MLK was assassinated, as I was in the third grade and couldn't fully comprehend the significance of what had happened.  This abhorrent act and the riots which followed in major urban areas, first Washington, DC, then Baltimore, Chicago, Detroit, and LA appeared to me on our black and white TV. It didn't make sense to me at the time for people to trash their own neighborhoods. Now I understand that this is only true if the neighborhoods and the institutions are worth saving. Obviously, the people who were confronting armed police and national guardsmen and were chanting "Burn Baby Burn" didn't hold these places in such high esteem. I had never been to these places so I was left to wonder.

There had been riots before in American cities during the 1960s, notably New York City and Paterson in 1964 and Newark in 1967. Years later I would drive through and around these cities and the blight was still apparent. Truth be told the scars are still apparent in most every city in the country where riots took place and will be for quite some time. The lesson here is that it doesn't take long for a neighborhood to go up in flames, but it takes a very long time to clean up and rebuild afterward.

Hope you all have a nice day off if your calendar allows. Maybe we can all reflect for a moment on how this holiday came into being and all the work that still needs to be done cleaning up the cities which were shattered by riots so many decades ago.

Peace.

Childhood Riddles

As someone who spends a fair amount of time in airplanes I fortunately get the chance to indulge my love of reading. At the moment I am reading "That Old Cape Magic" by Richard Russo. He writes with a style which makes me stop and ponder every once and a while; an admirable trait for any author. This latest novel made me think about the riddles of our childhoods and why growing up doesn't always solve them.

A wise old friend of mine explained it to me simply that their are no answers to some of our questions and I have had to reluctantly accept this maxim many a time instead of pursuing an answer to a question any further. My friend was in his late 80s when he told me this and had seen some terrible suffering in Europe during WWII. He had no answers for all that had happened in his life and had come to realize that it is sometimes better to simply accept things as they are and to quit questioning.

This all makes me wonder if as children we had adopted this stoic attitude how different our lives would have been. I guess the wisdom is in knowing when to develop this attitude and in the meantime hold out a chance that our childhood riddles may one day be answered.

The riddles of my childhood centered around the usual time worn concerns: why someone had died or moved away, or had changed their opinion of me or I had changed my opinion of them. When you are young with a great expanse of time hopefully before you it is easy to believe that a plausible answer might present itself. As we grow up though we begin to see how this might not be the case, and how tragedies will keep occurring for no good reason. I saw this again the other day with the shooting in an Arizona shopping center. We might well never understand the man's motivation, just like we will never know why Lee Harvey Oswald had wanted to shoot President Kennedy. I believe Oswald acted alone and was a deeply troubled individual. Though all during my childhood there was the riddle in many people's minds as to whether he acted alone. Some people still see a plot but after all this time this to me appears unlikely. It's too hard to keep a secret like that for so long. It will just remain one of those childhood riddles that growing up hasn't solved.

New Year's Day

This day used to be all about the end of the College Football season. There were bowl games all day and at the end of the day or early the following one we all knew who was the best team in the country, as voted by the sports writers.

Today we have so many tournaments and games I can't keep count and have stopped trying. The bowl game to decide the national champion is being played on January 10th. It's little wonder that I have stopped following college sports entirely as it would take a monumental effort and I have better ways to spend my time.

When we were kids if the weather was mild enough on New Year's Day we might try to imitate the college guys and play a game of our own. Though usually it was tough to gather a gang on New Year's Day and the weather in northern jersey tended to make the football hard as a rock and not much fun to throw or catch.

Truth be known our football season ended with the first blast of prolonged cold weather. This is when we turned our attention to indoor sports like basketball. The YMCA/YWCA on Oak Street had supervised basketball on Saturday and Sunday afternoons so that's where our parents would drop off Bill Barnett, Bill Steen, and myself and pick us up several hours later. It was a good way for us to mix with the kids from the other side of town as the Y was centrally located and attracted a cross section of people from both George Washington Junior High School and Benjamin Franklin Junior High School.
These long names were always shortened to GW and BF.

Today I will be in Ridgewood with my in-laws, exchanging Christmas gifts and renewing old acquaintances with family members we see only at the holidays. Of course, the college bowl games will be on in the background but nobody at this party will have any "skin in the game" as the old saying goes. It's just hard to break the old childhood habits, especially while we are creating new traditions. I like our new tradition of going back to my old hometown and seeing how it has changed. The changes have mostly occurred on the inside of the houses as the town itself still remains a charming place to visit. The biggest difference between now and when I lived there over 30 years ago would be in the tremendous number of ways people have to spend their time. Back in the 1960s and 1970s we had more in common and were distracted less by the wondrous options which are available as a matter of course. No doubt all these alternatives are a good sign and one we should be glad to live amongst. My only concern is for people who have only known plenitude and whether this will make them resistant to the misfortunes which strike all of us at one time or another. In other words, are the houses today filled with a bit of empathy for those less fortunate or are they only safe fortresses which block out all signs of our sometimes harsh existence?  I hope the former is true and will go on believing that until proven otherwise.

Happy New Year! Make a difference where and when you can as we are all in this together.

New Year's Eve

The first time I was allowed to stay up until midnight on New Year's Eve to see the ball dropped in Times Square I was 10 years old. In those days part of the tradition was to listen to Gaetano Alberto "Guy" Lombardo (June 19, 1902 – November 5, 1977) and his Royal Canadians play their music from the Waldorf Astoria Hotel in New York.  The music may have sounded corny to a first time listener but it didn't take long for one to realize they were a well organized and tight group of musicians.  They were noted for playing the traditional song Auld Lang Syne and their recording of the song still plays as the first song of the new year in Times Square.

While my younger brother and I waited for midnight and were being shown traditions like the Royal Canadians and the sight of all the people at Times Square, we soon realized we needed some confetti to throw at each other at midnight. The first thing we started ripping up was our blank notebook paper used for school reports but after a short while we were steered towards the newspapers in the pantry. In those days before the town began recycling,  this was  the logical thing to do.

When the clock struck 12 the ball began its descent at Times Square and we heard for the first time Guy Lombardo's version of the Robert Burns poem Auld Lang Syne. We could also see on the old black and white TV that people had begun to throw their confetti so we started throwing ours in support. After all the confetti was thrown we picked it up and threw it all again. This second celebration finally wore us out and we were sent off to bed, with the nostalgic tunes of the Royal Canadians playing in the background to lull us to sleep.

Flexible Flyers

With the first winter snow storm fast approaching us here in the northeast, a blizzard no less,  it's easy to remember those times when we saw a snowstorm as the perfect opportunity to have fun with our flexible flyer sleds. They would be hustled down from the attic and then stored in the garage until spring. You never knew when they would come in handy so they had to be close at hand.

This current storm which is coming would have been a slight disappointment because it will fall during Christmas vacation and there would be little chance of us celebrating a snow day with the subsequent loss of a day at school. I say a slight disappointment because sledding was and is too much fun to care whether or not you are doing it instead of attending school.

We had a fine little hill in the school yard at Willard, right behind our home. Dozens of people would use it at one time. As I recall if you made a running start and then threw yourself upon the sled you would travel quickly all the way to the fence at the bottom. We would then turn around and pull our sleds back to the top to do it all again. Such a simple activity, and one which we would repeat for an hour or two. After that time we would either engage in some other snow activity like a snowball fight or just go inside to get warm.

This hill at Willard is the only place I can ever remember sledding. I think this was because our parents would discourage us from sledding in the streets, for obvious safety reasons. Though the streets were never as pristine as the snow at Willard so it wasn't a terrible restriction in our eyes. The Village of Ridgewood would do the snow removal even in our edge of the town fairly early in the morning and would take most of the sledding fun with them.

Later in my younger days I would take up skiing and leave my flexible flyer in the attic for the last time. When we moved from Ridgewood the sleds were donated and hopefully found some kids who  appreciated them the way in which we used to. If given the choice now between skiing and sledding I would take sledding in a heartbeat. Too bad we can't sled down the ski trails as that would be a blast! We could put the sleds on our laps while we road to the top on a ski lift, instead of pulling them up the hill the way we did as kids. Now there is something I would pay for, and would cheerfully weather even a blizzard to engage in.

Christmas Eve

One of the most anticipated days of the year in our house growing up. One year we even wrote our plans down for getting up Christmas Day very early in order to watch Charles Dickens' The Christmas Carol on TV on our old black and white television set. The 1930s version with Reginald Owen as Scrooge was in my mind more faithful to the original story than the 1950s version with Alastair Sim as Scrooge, which had the advantage of better photographic techniques. These both played in the middle of the night so our written plan had the exact time we had to set our alarm clocks to wake up and watch. This was usually a formality as the excitement of Christmas Day usually made us wake up on time every year.

The other aspects of Christmas Eve which comes to mind include how our tree looked with all the presents under it, plus the Christmas decorations we had in our house like the Christmas creche and the red Santa Claus with a light inside. In those days people also wrote Christmas cards to each other and each day's mail in December was sure to include some of these now obsolete reminders of a simpler era. I guess this loss of the annual supply of Christmas cards, the prettiest of which were displayed tastefully in the living room, is the inevitable result of the Internet and it instant communication. Christmas cards are now a quaint memory of when communications from distant places was something we got excited about, whether it was a long distance telephone call or a written note. These were events we delighted in much more than we will ever glory e-mail, instant messages, or phone calls over Skype. The ironic fact is now that we can be in contact without much effort it makes us less likely to do at traditional times like Christmas and via old time methods such as a card sent in the US Mail.


The Village of Ridgewood always did itself proud with decorations. The Christmas Tree near the train station was always a place we would stop and marvel at, along with the infamous Arthur's House of Beauty. I can't remember ever being inside this landmark, as I usually patronized the Barber Shops in Hohokus, but this was another must-see at Christmas time while growing up. I scooped this picture off the Ridgewood Ridgewood-Expats page on Facebook.

I can also clearly remember how our elementary school, Willard, used to have all the grades gather in the auditorium to sing Christmas carols to the parents. They would march us in one grade at a time as I recall and we would do our best to sing the old faithfuls, Silent Night and Jingle Bells. One year there was even a class who sang Oh Tannenbaum in German. They had a stern german woman as their teacher and the kids knew they had to get it right or else! Not that anyone ever got hit in Ridgewood by a teacher but the teachers could make our lives miserable just the same by a look or a cranky disposition. Of course, the worst was having to stay after school. I had a spanish teacher in high school as the last class of the day and she would always threaten us with 5 minutes after school. Just think about it: 5 minutes was all it took to get our attention back to our studies. You would have thought we were being sentenced to a year in jail. I guess our attention spans were shorter back then and we didn't ever want to miss the rush to get out of school and be with our friends.

I hope you all are with family and friends this Christmas and can conjure up some happy memories of your own.

Peace.

Cold December Days

While we were growing up cold December days always heralded our countdowns to Christmas vacation and New Year's Eve festivities. Back then Dick Clark was in his heyday and the first time we were allowed to watch the ball drop on Times Square at 12 midnight on television we tore up newspapers as our confetti and tossed it wildly around the living room until our mother told us to clean it up and go to bed. I still savor the simplicity of my first New Year's Eve celebration, more than most of the rest that have come thereafter.

New Year's Eve 1999 was another memorable one held at the Novy's in Wyckoff was a great time that carried on well into the morning.

Though I have also had the unenviable task of working in restaurants on New Year's Eve. This task along with a desire to enter another profession were not much fun. This was caused mostly by the fact that we began to call it Amateur Night' as it always seemed that people who never went out all year would pick this evening to go out, be grossly overcharged, and show that they lacked the aplomb to truly enjoy themselves on a night out. It was always the little things which ticked them off and caused them to make a scene with the staff. It is for this reason I usually never go out to dinner on New Years and would never in a million years consider standing in Times Square to watch the ball drop. It those cold December days which keep me inside. Not to mention the warm memories of my first New Years as a child, and the best New Year's I ever had as an adult spent at the Novys with many old pals from my Ridgewood days.

RHS 1970 Reunion Web Site

http://ridgewood70.shutterfly.com/

This is a wonderful site, filled with pictures, and sections devoted to every school in town. Well worth the time for a look if only to see some familiar haunts.

Ridgewood Education Foundation Link Added

I received a nice note from Jennie Smith Wilson, the Vice President of the Ridgewood Education Foundation. The Foundation is now included in our list of Ridgewood Links. According to Jennie:

"The Foundation provides support to the Ridgewood public schools through classroom grants and community-wide programs.

We were founded 20 years ago by then superintendent Fred Stokley and a group of residents and in the following years we have given over $400,000 to the schools through programs that directly reach the students and support excellence in education.  We are an independent foundation and not part of the district administration or Board if Education.

Many alumni support the Foundation and the additional exposure would be great."




Hope this helps raise awareness of the work they do.

Elton John

This shot of Elton and John Lennon was taken on November 28th 1974. A day probably didn't go by in the 1970s when you could go an hour and not hear an Elton John tune being broadcast on the radio. He was at the top of his game and the hits looked like they would never stop. Of course, things eventually settled down as they usually do. Though for someone growing up in the 1970s Elton John songs served as a comfortable soundtrack to our young lives.

The story behind this photo was that Lennon supposedly said he would play live with Elton if his solo album produced a #1 hit. As luck would have it the song "Whatever Gets You Thru The Night" reached number one on November 16th, and Lennon was good to his word. He joined Elton on stage at New York's Madison Square Garden during Elton's Thanksgiving Day concert there.

Thanksgiving Television

We always watched the football games on Thanksgiving Day, between playing football if the weather permitted and eating turkey. We still do the same thing, except for the playing of football. Though there is still a crew that does still participate in an annual Turkey Bowl game and if we are lucky they will post some photos on FaceBook.

My first memory of TV watching on Thanksgiving wasn't of football, it was the Victor Herbert classic, Babes in Toyland starring Laurel and Hardy.

Remember Silas Barnaby and how scary he appeared in the old black and white versions?
Not as scary in the colorized version, or maybe we just outgrow these things. ;-)

Though even to this day the site of the Wooden Soldiers coming to the rescue fills my heart with joy. Good triumphs over evil and the guy gets the girl. This has always been a fine way to start this day, even if we only happen upon the movie these days. As a child it was a certainty and one that could always produce a "I can't look" sort of feeling no matter how many times you had seen it.

Happy Thanksgiving. It's time to see the show!

The Days Before Thanksgiving

I easily recall that these were times filled with great anticipation, not the least because of the long weekend which the holiday afforded us.

There was always a bit of a nip in the air but usually no snow to complain about. We would see plenty of snow in the coming months so November didn't need to add to our burden. There were always still leaves on the trees and on the ground, which if we had strong backs and not too many callouses on our hands we could turn into some spending money.

Thanksgiving was always a holiday with few pressures, as the most important part was to show up at the table at the appointed hour with clean hands and a big appetite. This was not much of a challenge for us kids growing up, especially if we were able to sneak in a football game in the morning with our pals.

Sometimes we had relatives at our table and this always kept us on our best behavior. Though table manners were a custom we were all well drilled in and all it took was a look from my Mom or Dad if we acted out to rein in our youthful energies. These had no place at the dinner table and to this day I always appreciate a host or hostess who makes this clear to their children when I am so honored to have a place at their table.

I hope you all enjoy the holiday. My job this year is to make the pumpkin pies and whip the cream which serves as garnish. I like to do the entire meal but if left to only one task it will always be the dessert that I will select.


Peace.

November Leaves

We saw piles of leaves on Glenwood Road as we were growing up. One year they were piled so high that it was twice the size of the machine designed to bring them to the compost pile. Of course, as kids we saw this as an opportunity to climb to the top and try and throw our friends from the top of the heap.

This only lasted until the "Big Machines" from the village came and eliminated these piles. But until they did the leaf piles were ours to play within. These were some of the best times which I can remember from my Ridgewood days because the leaves were so soft  and our bones were so malleable.

November

This was always the month of the year when each day was an adventure for athletes; sometimes hot and sometimes cold. Up until Thanksgiving  this really didn't matter to us runners or football players (tackle or touch). We glorified in running in the rain or playing football in the mud. Though for obvious reasons the warm days were always more pleasant to compete in.

Enduring both the heat and the cold were realities which were part of the deal we made with ourselves and our coaches. I have written before about the monsoon our 1976 Cross Country ran through in the Eastern States Finals at Van Cortland Park in the Bronx. From the moment we stepped off the bus we were drenched and even more so once we removed our sweats to go warmed up. It is hard to imagine we were very warm at any point, and a glance at our coach, Larry Coyle, showed that his glasses were completely fogged up from the rain. This meant of course that there was no turning back, if the coach could do it we could too.

We did well that day despite the heavy November rain and mud. The team received numerous medals for enduring this maelstrom and no one who ran the race will ever forget it. Among the medals I received and the memories which have endured to this day the Eastern States is among the best. This was partly due to the fact that this was the end of the era for us Seniors; the Juniors and Sophomores knew it was now their turn to succeed us. It was also simply gratifying to say we survived the race because some of our competitors didn't, one boy broke his leg when he slipped in the mud. The scream he let out could be heard all over the park.

As the American poet T.S. Eliot once wrote, "April is the cruelest month.." At times during my youthful, more athletic days, this could have been said about November. I suppose one can always use their memory in hindsight to block out the cold and the rain, to give what was once a test of one's endurance a lighter tone and feel. With any luck this produces the end result of the warm glow which can sustain us through many a cold autumn night.

(Thanks for anonymous who pointed out that in "The Wasteland" it was April which was the cruelest month.)

Halloween

Halloween is a wonderful holiday. Kids get to explore their neighborhoods and grownups give them candy when they knock of their door. It's a good deal for all concerned and it also is a learning lesson for kids. At some point each child has to decide whether or not they are too old to make the candy tour. It's not that they don't want the treats it is just a sign, which they can always choose to ignore, that they need to make a decision about whether or not they are a kid or a teenager. Of course, this is how I remember it in my day.

These days Halloween is celebrated by people of all ages, and grownups go to great lengths to make costumes which reveal their inner selves. I have not been one to dress up since the day I decided I was too old to go out for Tricks or Treats. I have stood by the decision made in the 8th grade and I have never looked back and longed for ringing doorbells and shouting "tricks or treats" or dressing myself for an adult party. To each his own is my thinking.

It is curious to remember that my friends and I used to dress up as hobos, and the complete time it took to fashion our costumes was usually no more than a few minutes. All it took was some old cloths, one of my Dad's old hats, and a bit a charcoal applied to our faces. Maybe a few dry leaves stuffed inside our pockets to add to the desired effect. It was acceptable to dress as a hobo in those days, inexpensive, and required nobody to ruminate as to whether it was politically correct.

I now prefer to celebrate the holiday in more subtle ways, like picking out pumpkins which, in the words of Linus of Peanuts fame, that are sincere. These pumpkins have found a place on my window sill for many years and are never carved or painted. These "sincere pumpkins" stand on their own and need no special treatment. They are sort of like our old hobo costumes, they need no explanation.

RHS 1977 Class Gathering 26 Nov 2010

Many of the class of 1977 received this email from Bill Nolan so I thought it appropriate to re-post it:


"Guys:  I don't know if any of you will be in Ridgewood over the Thanksgiving weekend.  If you are, why don't we get together at Smith Brothers on Friday, Nov. 26th around 7:00ish.  We could grab dinner, or just have a few cold ones.  Fuzzy, please send this out to all the boys.  I lost half of my addresses a few weeks ago when I switched to a new computer.  Cindy Neidig is going to send an e-mail out as well.  Please feel free to send to other class of '77 people.  I hope to see many of you in Nov.  Fuzz, is Ridgewood home on Thanksgiving?  Willie"

The Road Not Taken

My favorite American Poet, Robert Frost, made a timeless observation about the choices we make in his 1920 poem, The Road Not Taken. When I first heard it elementary school I was the young fellow of the poem's first four stanzas. I'm not sure when I became the older person of the closing stanza but I am sure that is me now.

The choices I have made regarding my friends, career, and where I have chosen to live have made a difference, as they do for everybody. I suppose some people consider these choices more than others, and for some they are just agony. This makes me fairly lucky as I have no regrets about the life paths I didn't take, or where I stand in life at the moment. I have seen many stories far sadder than anything I could conjure up and this keeps me honest about what I am doing and where I want to be going.

We all have many times in our lives when there are two roads before us and we need to choose one. I guess one of those roads, ala the Frost poem, I saved for another day was the option to live in Ridgewood. In fact, I have saved it for so long it is no longer a reasonable option, or even one I would consider. This is not to denigrate the town or its inhabitants. We all just grow up differently and cherish different things. I like to remember how Ridgewood was in the 1960s and 1970s and try to keep these memories alive via this blog. It gives me the chance to ponder at length the road not taken. It has also made me realize that for me this has made all the difference.



                                                   The Road Not Taken

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;	5
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,	10
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.	15
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

RHS Class of 1970 40th Reunion

Now only days away. Very excited. Here’s what is new. 

·          Record turnout expected. Ticket sales for the Main Event on Sat have now topped 155. We expect more during the week, and some walk ups at the event. We also believe that the turnout at the Elks Club on Fri night will be even greater (since some classmates will attend only the Elks but not the Main Event). Very exciting.

·         Share your photos of the reunion – As you know, we will have a photographer to take photos. We also expect that many of you will bring your own digital cameras. We will set up a photo sharing site after the reunion, and we will let you know how to post your photos to the site. Should be fun.

·         Pick up your “Reunion Weekend Info Sheet” – We are putting together a sheet with important info about the weekend (e.g. events and timeline, last minute updates, key contacts, transportation) and a list of attendees. You should be given one when you check in at the DoubleTree or Super8. We will also hand them out at the Elks Club on Fri night, and the Main Event on Sat night. Make sure you pick one up.

·         Want a tour of Ridge Elementary School? – Classmate, and Ridge alum, Nancy Kandoian, has arranged for a tour on Fri afternoon Oct 8, 3:30 – 4:00. If you are interested contact Nancy at nak04574@gmail.com, or cell phone, 201-888-1246. Nancy is also the coordinator for the Ridge din ner on Fri at MacMurphy’s in Ridgewood, 6:00 – 8:00.

·         Dress code for Main Event on Sat. Men should wear ties. Women should wear cocktail party/semi formal evening wear.

·         Make sure you are registered for the Main Event – If you purchased tickets over the reunion web site, or sent Irene Nagy a check in the mail, you should have received back from Irene a confirming email, and your name should be shown as having ‘Purchased Tickets” on the “Who’s Coming” page of the reunion web site. If there is any confusion, pls contact Irene at gardendesign@bellsouth.net or 678-467-7795.

·         Main Event ticket sales at the door – Tickets are $125, cash only. Price includes: cash bar for 2 hours (7:00 – 9:00), meal, DJ and dancing, reunion CD.

·         Timeline for the weekend – You will find more details on the reunion web site (www.rhs70.myevent.com), but we have made some changes. For your planning purposes, here is a recap:

• Friday Oct 8

·         3:30 – 4:00 Tours of Ridge School and Willard School

·         6:00 – 8:00 Elementary School dinners (check web site for exact times & locations)

·         8:00 – 12:00 Elks Club Icebreaker

• Saturday Oct 9

·         8:00 – 11:00 Breakfast at DoubleTree Hotel

·         Noon – 1:30 Lunch at the Fireplace

·         2:00 – 4:30   Football game at RHS

·         3:00 – 3:30   Tour of RHS (at half time of game)

·         4:00 – 6:00   Warm up for the evening at DoubleTree

·         7:00 – 12:00 Main Event at DoubleTree

• Sunday Oct 10

·         8:00 – 11:00 Breakfast at DoubleTree Hotel

Safe travels to Ridgewood. See you this weekend.

RHS ’70 Reunion Committee:

Brian Corcoran

Irene Nagy

Rick Bowe

Don Christensen's New Business

According to Don, the new business is called Restaurant Services of Michigan.  

"The services and systems we offer were designed to help small restaurants compete with "the chain operations" and are robust enough to keep up with your growth. Although we provide 3 services, we are only in one business - helping locally owned restaurants compete with "big company" tools and methods."

"Helping Small Business Run Big"

RSM was formed to provide restaurants with new tools to increase sales and delight their customers. The company began with providing online ordering services for carryout and delivered foods in 2001 and continues to successfully expand this business as consumers opt for this service more and more. “It became very clear, early on, that small and locally owned restaurants were attempting to compete with big corporate chains without the same tools and methods.” said company founder George Ryder.

 “Our web based Point Of Sale system will help restaurants manage their business and help reduce their costs like the “Big Guys” do.”, said partner Don Christensen.

Managing Partners Ryder & Christensen both spent many years working in engineering and manufacturing sectors and are quick to point out that “There are hundreds of very valuable procedures and methods that we have learned in the these segments that we fully intend to bring our locally owned restaurants”, said Christensen

 Restaurant Services of Michigan, Inc.

Tyler Clementi

It was not a quiet week in my old home town, Ridgewood. Tyler Clementi, RHS 2010, reportedly jumped to his death from the George Washington Bridge following the release of a sex tape on the Internet. According to reports,  Police recovered a man's body Wednesday afternoon just north of the bridge, and authorities were trying to determine whether it was Clementi's. Check the story out here: Tyler Clementi

It would be foolish to say there were no gay people living in Ridgewood during the 1960s and 1970s. There most certainly were and are now, but then they were not as well organized or disposed to let their neighbors know.

Being gay is not right or wrong. It is not a life choice; it's just what some of my friends are and I have no problems with it.

I do have problems with people who would deny them equal status in the eyes of the law. I have problems with any state which has one set of rules for men and women who are married, and another set of rules for men who want to marry men or women who want to marry women. There is no difference in my eyes as long as they are law abiding, hard-working, and paying taxes.

When I was growing up this sort of argument was not acceptable among people living in Ridgewood. What's more, it was not offered by anyone unless they wanted a lot of needless trouble on their hands. Thankfully, times have changed and we can all openly mourn the passing of a young man who didn't know how to handle his feelings, and might only have needed an intervention in order for him to still be among us today.

It is all very sad and I hope we all learn something from this incident which just leaves me numb when I think about it.

Peace.

The Places You Go

I'm referring to places you go after graduating from high school. Some people travel the globe, while others are content to stay close to surroundings they know and love. Most people have no choice and end up somewhere else after graduation because their parents have emptied the nest and sold the house. It's hard to blame these parents as the lawn still needs to be cut, the leaves raked, and the sidewalks shoveled. Besides, they no longer have us close by to fret about to their friends, and sometimes directly to us.

The places I visited after graduation from RHS are easily categorized as being North American-centric. I took this path for 20 years and then settled back in northern NJ as a bachelor pursuing a new career as a network engineer. Shortly thereafter I met my wife and we moved into NYC. I consider my time away from my roots well spent but the return to my roots has provided me with more tangible and intangibles than my time spent away from the area I call home.

I suppose this is all entirely natural, and seems so to me. Enjoy the time in the places you go, and if you are lucky like me, revel in your return. Not a day goes by when I am not glad to be back, near to places I know, and to surroundings which helped make me the man I am today.

Make Way For Tomorrow

I believe it is good form for those making High School graduation speeches to include some sort of heartfelt advice. I can't say I remember any of the advice from my High School or College graduation speakers, but if I was given the chance to speak, I would talk on the subject of "Making Way For Tomorrow."

It is likely an easier subject to contemplate for graduates than the usual subject they are prompted to consider by their esteemed graduation speakers. As I vaguely recall they speak of the many years that lie ahead and that they have the choice to strive to fill them with promise for a better world. The graduates are reminded also that we are sure this promise is an essential part of the DNA, and has been nurtured by all the time they have spent in institutions of higher learning. This all sounds good and of course, it should be uttered at moments like these when friends and family are all wishing them well.

My only additional word of advice would be to include a reminder that they can do one thing before they begin the next step in life's journey, and that is to make way for the generation which is following right behind them. Make a gesture, however slight, which shows you fully accept the fact that your day in the sun on these high school grounds has come and gone. By acknowledging that you are no longer part of the social scene I believe will speed up the next generation's recognition that it is time for them to shine. I would encourage every graduating class to do the same thing. What's more, if they have the time, and can pass along some wisdom they have acquired about the next phase of life, then all the better. The point here is to communicate and to not dominate. I believe with the tools we now have this could be built into every curriculum. Why disenfranchise those alumni who have insights worthy of passing on to the next generation?

I ultimately advocate open communication between graduating classes and those who follow in their footsteps. I also realize the recent graduates don't have much time, but any small gesture during those care free moments in September of Freshman year at college could go a long way towards making sure that they current Seniors are making the appropriate decisions based upon the wisdom of their "forefather." Please correct me if I am wrong but I believe that is what made this country great.

RHS Class of 1976 35th Reunion

From my pal Mitch Morrison:

So far, the following classmates have paid for the RHS Class of '76 Reunion which will be held from July 15th-17th 2011; Barbara Bird Schneider, Ann Brogan Barbi, Kathy Belleza Gabrielle, Mitch Morrison, Mark Moscarello, Cheryl Roelke Finger and Liz Rubenstein Fuentes. Please send your $100/person check asap (made out to Kathy Gabrielle) to: Kathy Gabrielle; 396 Frances Place, Wyckoff, NJ 07481 Thanks!! Mitch

Willard Class of 1964 Reunion Reception

Willard Class of '64 Reunion Reception

Location:
Home of Judy Hall Saydah
228 Hamilton Ave.
Glen Rock, NJ US

When:
Friday, October 8, 4:00PM to 8:00PM

Phone: 201-447-6158

The Willard Reunion Team invites YOU to join your Willard classmates for an INFORMAL DINNER BUFFET prior to the RHS '70 gathering at the Elk's Club.
$25.00 per person will be collected at the door. It will cover the cost of food, beer, wine and soft drinks. You may bring additional beverages if you so choose. A tour of Willard is also being made available from 3:00 - 4:00 pm. We are hoping to arrange rides from the Double Tree in Mahwah, to Willard, on to Judy's, the Elks' Club and back to Double Tree. Your favor of a reply for dinner as well as for the Willard tour is requested!

Questions or RSVP to Judy Hall Saydah, rejj21@optonline.net or Susan Main, Susan@ramscoinc.com.

Labor Day

It used to be a part of our lives that school (K-12) began after Labor Day. This was a common experience no matter where you grew up in these United States.


Now it is the norm for school (K-12) to start before Labor Day in order to allow for Snow Days and for Religious holidays which fall in early September. There is nothing wrong with this change as it's just a sign of the times.

The last days of August and those before Labor Day were always times of great confusion. We knew we would be seeing our friends soon on the first day of school, though we didn't have the communications networks that we have now. To pick up a phone was a moment, for both boys and girls, filled with great trepidation. We usually just waited the days out and enjoyed the quiet in our neighborhood. An occasional BBQ with friends of the family was always on the schedule, though it felt like a stopgap and the real action began with the start of the new school year.

Kids today start (K-12) ((not to mention College)) before Labor Day and then have a break which I cannot fathom. To me, it only increases their anxiety, as there is another gap in the schedule. To reduce anxiety it might be better to keep the old way of opening school. We had snow days and religious holidays to account for in my day, but we had greater continuity and a timetable which allowed for the re-establishment of face-to-face friendships. Maybe this all doesn't matter in age where communication is omnipresent. This is just my 2 cents. 

RHS 1977 Reunion

A casual gathering, over this coming Thanksgiving weekend, at Smith Brothers in Ridgewood is how this was announced by Cindy Neidig Myer on Facebook a few days ago. Stay tuned for more details.

Joe Antonacci, Top 100 RHS Teacher of the 20th Century

Whenever an homage to a teacher comes across my desk I like to post it, even if I never knew the person or can't remember them. I realize that there were easily more than 100 people worthy of this distinction but not every teacher has a Boswell willing to put their observations into print.

I should probable call this "100 Most Inspirational RHS teachers of the 20th Century." good teachers inspire something inside of each of us which will prepare us for the life ahead.  As a former teacher of 40 years, Dorothy Rich, once said about what makes a good teacher, "It's about relationships between people, hopes and dreams, and about a future we can't even envision."

If teaching were just about tests and reading books then we would need inspiration all the more from our teachers. Thankfully, I grew up in an era were it was common to say, "go ask your teacher for the answer." Instead of in the current era where kids are told to use Google.

My teachers gave us tests and compelled us to read but also they were figures of authority and respect. Most could silence a room by raising an eyebrow, and if that didn't work they would just raise there voices. Once they had our attention they might add how disappointed they were with us for not paying attention immediately. This tactic the good teachers would use just often enough to teach us to be ashamed of ourselves for not giving the respect a teacher deserves. Though not too often as to make for a classroom devoid of fun.

This Top 100 Teacher was sent by current Ridgewood resident and class of 1977 graduate Tom Thurston.

You will have many well qualified and beloved teachers "nominated" for your Top 100. I would offer Joe Antonacci my 6th Grade teacher at the old Somerville Annex. Mr. Antonacci was the personification of the tough love male teacher of that era. He pushed and demanded you try your best. He was organized and disciplined and demanded the same from his students. But everyone in his class knew how much he cared. His teaching methods were innovative and he really made learning fun. When I look back at my years in the Ridgewood School System his name is right there with some of the other great teachers I had.

A couple of years ago Paul Ferraro and I had the pleasure of visiting with him when Paul was in town to play the Jets. It was great to see him (he hasn't changed a bit) and we talked very fondly of our "Somerville Days." Just a great guy and a great teacher.

Tom 

Late August Days

This used to be a quiet time in our lives. We had lost momentary contact with our friends due to different vacation schedules and the endlessness of summer days that typifies late August. College and K-12 didn't start until after Labor Day so we were left to our own devices as to how to best spend our time.

Given the chance now there isn't a reader among us who couldn't think of 10 or 15 things they would do with their time if offered another chance. Though back in those days we didn't have the Internet , Cable TV, or discretionary income, so we had to make our fun outdoors.

Of course, a backyard BBQ with our parents friends and families usually helped fill the void if we weren't on vacation as a family ourselves. During the BBQ we would play badminton, drink far too much soda, eat watermelon, and then hunt for fireflies. It was a routine we savored as it couldn't be duplicated at any other time of the year except late August.

I suppose we should all be so lucky as to be able to summon such quiet thoughts. Especially when it's easy enough to give a concerted look at the world around us now and be so easily reminded that our present lives are so very unlike the late August days we knew growing up.

RHS 1970 Reunion Update #4

The Oct 8-9 reunion is now 7 weeks away, and we are cranking. As we get closer, we will send more emails. Also keep checking what is new on the reunion web site (www.rhs70.myevent.com).

·         Tickets are now on sale! You can buy them with a credit card via the web site, or sending a check to Irene Nagy. Details on the “Purchase Tickets” page of the reunion site. Please purchase your ticket(s) ASAP. This enables us to plan, and ensures that you will have your custom name tag. Tickets to the Fri night Oct 8 event at the Elks Club will payable at the door. Cash bar. Price is still TBD, but will be modest.

·         Make your hotel reservations: The Main Event (and the center of other activities) is at the DoubleTree Hotel, Route 17, Mahwah, NJ. We have reserved a block of rooms at a special $99 rate for Fri Oct 8 and Sat Oct 9. The $99 DoubleTree rate (and guaranteed availability) expires Sept 8. So act now(201) 529-5880). Another hotel option: Super 8. This hotel is right next to the DoubleTree. It is less fancy, and it is cheaper. We have reserved a block of rooms for Fri Oct 8 and Sat Oct 9, rate is $65 single, $75 double. Offer expires Sept 8 ((201) 512-0800).

·         Attendance is strong. As of 8/16, 109 classmates have RSVP’d that they plan to attend (with spouses etc. total attendance tops 150!). Again, thanks. This helps us plan, and builds excitement. The response is greater than expected. If you have not RSVP’d, pls do.

·         Committees: Sally Rodman heads the Hospitality Committee. Kathy Lauerman leads the Decorations Committee. Those of you who volunteered will be notified shortly. Thanks for volunteering. We will let you know if we need additional volunteers.

·         Reunion Book: Wes Jenkins reports that he has received photos and/or update info from 241 classmates. Thanks for this. If you have not yet, pls send it to Wes wjenkins5@austin.rr.com.

·         We need a photographer – In addition to the digital cameras that most of us will bring to the reunion, we want an experienced photographer to take group and individual photos. If you are interested in taking photos on Friday and/or Sat nights, pls contact Irene Nagy (gardendesign@bellsouth.net). Thanks.

·         Calling campaign – This campaign to call all our classmates is still on, but has slipped (until we figured out some things). Those of you who volunteered to make calls, thank you. We will be in touch in time to start making the calls very soon..

·         Reunion web site has been updated for:

1.       Missing Classmates - Thanks to you, we continue to make progress finding classmates: down to 75 missing (from over 150 when we started!). Pls keep the help coming til we find everybody.( http://www.rhs70.myevent.com/3/miscellaneous5.htm)

2.       Classmates who have passed – Over the past six weeks we have added 3 more classmates: Donald Haring, Michalene Ryan, and Bruce Hillman. (http://www.rhs70.myevent.com/3/memorials.htm)

 

That’s all for now. Buy those tickets. Make hotel reservations.

 

RHS ’70 Reunion Committee:

Brian Corcoran

Irene Nagy

Rick Bowe

Website address: http://rhs70.myevent.com

Gene Ricci

If you attended Willard School between 1964 and 1979, you know who Gene Ricci (pronounced "Ritchie") is in all his glory. They held an annual flower sale for many years in his honor after he died and the front walk way to Willard is filled with flowers and trees that he would have appreciated.

If you were a guy then you probably felt his ring on the top of you head, never too hard as he had a soft touch, but hard enough to get your attention. This sort of behavior would be considered child abuse today but Gene Ricci got away with it because he would smile and rib the hurt if necessary. He was from another era, and one I like to reflect upon and which makes up the essence of this blog.

Thanks to Jim Schoneman for the picture.