Larry Pomeroy

Phil and I got to be friends at Merrill Jr High in 7th or 8th grade when we shared both the same PE class  and an aversion to Coach Rodine and his obsession with organized sports & conditioning excercizes. We found further common ground in the solace of sneaking off down into the grassy ravine by the side of school grounds to have a furtive smoke while others PE'd (note: foreshadowing here...).

He was also a regular member of the teen smoking clan (along with Tom Brown, Mark Kenworthy, Harlan Green, et. al.) who gathered at The Temple - or J-Center in our youthful non-PC terminolgy - for a pre-school ciggie or two. Phil was a confirmed Tareyton man but unlike the ads, I'm sure he'd rather quickly switch than fight given his aversion to fisticuffs ("Sure, I'll take an Old Gold...or Camel straight ?").

We further cemented our friendship and shared experiences with the following vignette: on the very last day of school at Merrill (9th grade?), we decided it was appropiate to commemorate our academic accomplishments there by slipping out to the infamous bike-racks for a final ritual smoke (the scene for many an after-school encounter engendered by some idiot uttering the words "I choose YOU" which apparently meant "I am going to punch you in the mouth"). This being the last day of school forever at ol' Merrill, we were a bit lax in our lighting-up and no sooner had we done so than Herb ("The Walrus") Albright burst through the double doors and physically apprehended us back into what was then I guess our alma mater. He then gleefully imposed - wait for it - a suspension on both of us that I believe remains in effect to this day, giving rise to the lingering technical question: did we actually gradute from Junoir High? (An interesting historical note: this disciplinary coup was the inspiration for Dean Wormer's "Double Secret Probation"  summarily imposed on the Delta's fraternity in Animal House).  

We continued our PE-themed friendship on into the TRHS years when we again shared gym class and a penchant for playing ping-pong; monolpolizing the table during the entire class (cheered on by Phil Wallace, my first black-and-gay friend) when we weren't slipping out by the backdoors for a quick smoke walking around the track (more PE foreshadowing here..).

Our friendship took another sports-oriented turn when in 10th grade Phil approached me about our both serving as caddies to two older guys he knew (probably in their 20's) who were into golf and also both happened to drive corvettes. I knew zip about golf (in spite of Roger Stanton's well-intentioned tutorials) but certainly liked 'vettes so I believe our conversation went something like this:

Me: "Sounds great - what's a caddy?"

Phil: "You just carry their golf clubs around in a bag while they shoot 18 holes".

Me: "OK cool - how heavy is the bag and how long does it take?"

Phil: "Not too heavy - sometimes they use a cart with wheels - and usually a couple hours or more".

Me: "OK - I want one with wheels - and can we just go with 9 holes? ".

Phil: "Don't worry - all you have to do is give them a club when they ask for one".

Me: "Sounds easy - any club?"

Phil: "No you idiot - they will ask for a driver, particular iron, chipper or putter".

Me: "Oh - how will I know which club to give them? " 

Phil: "The drivers are made of wood and irons have numbers on them".

Me: "OK - what number is on the putter? "

Phil: "It doesn't have one - it's just flat ". 

Me: "Sounds pretty complicated. What's the pay?"

Phil: "Twenty-five dollars plus they'll buy us beer and let us smoke".

Me: "Can we do this every weekend? "

Suffice it to say we had a blast and even got to drive their corvettes (although in a rare display of good judgment that weeekend, only in a deserted parking lot).

And so it went through the TRHS years until it came to graduate. And here, dear readers, is where the PE-themed foreshadowing comes full circle into our story: for it seems that Phil, having skipped/smoked/ping-ponged his way through and around PE had in fact been the first, and to my knowledge, the only senior to receive the grade of "F" in PE. Yes, a man ahead of his time for sure. Anyway, I remember distinctly that while the rest of us were carousing down by the river and trestle partying away that summer of '71, our friend Phil was having to take PE - wait for it - in summer school ! To the best of my knowledge, unlike the junior high debacle and to the great relief of his parents, he did indeed graduate.

I last saw Phil circa 1974 while attending Miami University in Ohio and somehow in those pre-internet days found out he was living in Hamilton, the next town over selling/raising house plants for at least part of his living expenses. For the other part, being a good friend I was happy to support him by purchasing a 3-finger bag of stinky dried plant material - he always seemed to have great weed.

And so dear friend, I bid you a fond adieu through the sweet haze of all those long-ago memories of times we shared...and I'm pretty sure that everyone on the other side is exempt from PE.  

Your fellow caddy and PE pal,    lp 

Marie Rich (Doyle)

Larry, thank you for sharing your memories with all of us.  It sure made me smile and chuckle too.  

John Oler

I recall Phil from Little League days. He was either on my team at one time or played on one of my dad's teams. Either way I recall Phil was a good baseball player. He might have pitched but I am not sure. So reading of his lack of enthusiasm for PE except for ping pong was news. Larry that was a great tribute to Phil. Thanks.