Stephen Leuchtman

The night Dan describes would make a good short story.  Unlike the other instances of my vehicular stupidity, it doesn't lend itself to just one or two paragraphs.  I remember the night far better than I should, given that we set out (I am now embarrassed to say) with the purpose of getting sloshed.  We bought at least a case of Colt 45 and kept it in a cooler in the trunk as we tooled around Redford, Detroit and wherever Hines Park is (Canton?  Plymouth Township?).  Todd was with us.  If there was a fourth guy, we weren't in the Rambler, which was too small for four humans of driving age. 

I don't drink enough to shake a stick at now, maybe one mixed drink on my birthday, another on our wedding anniversary, etc.  It was a different age then, though.  Everyone, including the police and the courts, was more tolerant of drinking.  My kids and grandkids don't believe this, but the standard for DUI was .15 when we were in HS and when I started as a lawyer in 1970!  Not only that, but there was a pervasive attitude among judges and juries passing on drunk driving cases that "There but for the grace of God go I."  When I turned 21, I thanked God that I never got gigged for Minor in Possession or something worse.

On that fortunately unfateful night, I remember making some sort of illegal left turn on Outer Drive near Fenkell and being pulled over by a Detroit cop.  As I mentioned, there was no alcohol in the passenger compartment of the car; but  the interior had to smell like a distillery and I'm sure our eyes all looked like (as my friend and HS shot put rival Jack Harvey used to describe it) "piss holes in the snow."  Forgive the vulgarity---I just have never heard a better description.  Like Danny Cox on the runway at Metro, I miraculously got only a warning.  Did we thank the Lord, consider ourselves ahead of the game and go home?  Of course not.

A couple of hours and several malt liquors later, we finally decided to grab a snack at the Big Boy on Telegraph and then shut it down for the night.  In the parking lot, I backed into a guy a year or two older than me in a brand new white Impala convertible.  He dramatically blocked our exit (as if we were going anywhere) and insisted on going inside to call the Redford Police.  They wouldn't come onto private property to investigate an accident in which no one was hurt.  By the way, to this day I am not convinced I damaged the guy's car.  I think he popped the hood and claimed the lid was sprung.  There was, thankfully, no damage to the car I was driving.  The police said to come in and make a report.  We dumped the cooler on the way to the Police Station and loaded up on Life Savers, Sen-Sens, etc.  Amazingly, the police never asked about drinking even though I'm sure it was obvious.  I got no ticket and drove home.  I ended up paying the guy $60 to "fix" his hood.  I was so relieved that I didn't ask him for a paid bill or an estimate.

This is not a story I would have brought up on my own, but now it's out there.  I think about it from time to time, and the thing that amazes me the most now is that it wasn't the last time I knowingly drove intoxicated; although it was the beginning of a thought process that led to that result when my children started being born.  I'm glad times have changed enough that if I was that age now, I wouldn't even think about being so irresponsible.  I hope.

Catherine Micallef (Kosikowski)

This is what I'm talking about, first the car stuff, now the booze! I have to tell one on my husband Edd and his friend Doug Coburn.  They bought a case of beer and when out drinking, and probably Art Mitzner, Jim Carothers, and maybe Kent Garbin (class of 62 ) were involved. They got in early left the case in the trunk and went into the house, Doug and Edd took showers and went out again.

They left the house, and first thing was to get rid of the case of beer.  When they opened the trunk the case was gone. Oh Crap!

Of course the rest of the evening was ruined and when Edd got home his Dad was standing in the kitchen with one leg up on the case of beer.  Back then nobody knew about CPS.

Robert Stockton

Jim Knots was my favorite coach, high school or college. That is saying something because I was fortunate to have had several excellent coaches.

I’m sure those whose only exposure to Coach Knots was being in his gym class would not have the feelings that I do, particularly if you had the bad luck to be in the gym on one of his “punishment days” which occurred when some class member did something egregious. The last one I remember was the day after coach caught a couple of dummies leaving the locker room before the bell rang, a flagrant error. Since coach was big on team spirit, the whole class got to share in the fun. Fun that day was running a never-ending lap around the gym. Every few minutes, when the whistle blew, we got to stop for a dozen or so pushups, leg-lifts, or the ever popular six count squat thrusts. Then back to running until the next whistle, the whole period. Good times.   

If you wanted to wrestle at THS, if nothing else you were going to be in shape. I vividly remember my first practice as a thirteen year old freshman. After two hours of doing all manner of strangeness, coach had us, four at a time, hanging from the parallel bars with our legs crossed doing pull-ups to his count. When the first group was done, he told them, “Okay do fifty laps and hit showers.”  FIFTY LAPS! Up to that point, my idea of a long run was a hundred yard dash. When I finally made it through the pull-ups and got to the running, I remember thinking, worriedly, that he couldn’t possibly be counting laps for everyone, could he? I don’t remember how many I did, but it was short of fifty. The next day the team size was down by almost half.

In class or in practice, he did not project a warm persona. It was two years before I started to think I liked him, but before the end I had come to appreciate the things I had learned from him and it was more than just wrestling or football.

Now to the story part. It was senior year, if my memory is right, the week before the state meet. Only state qualifiers were still practicing. Joe Halonen, Jerry Wiebeck and I had been talking about how a life chapter was coming to an end and that we should do something, something special, something that had never been done, and wouldn’t be again. By then we had already gotten good at doing things that proved we weren’t always playing with a full deck, but what we were contemplating was border line death wish, near suicidal. We were going to red-belly the coach. I’m not sure who had the idea, but my money is on Joe, he made a hobby of trying to get me trouble.

Well at the end of practice, after having sworn a blood oath, we grabbed coach when his back was turned and got him down on the mat. I had an arm, Joe had an arm, and Jerry had the legs. I’m not sure who did the honors, but coach’s belly did turn red, all the while he was spewing a litany of unrepeatable, though educational phrases. It was somewhere around then that I started to realize this might not end well.

When enough red had been achieved, Joe yelled out, “On three… One… two..”  Sure I leapt up on two, blood oath notwithstanding. So did Joe and Jerry, all having the same idea, not to get caught. Well, he did latch on to Jerry.
 

Remember, Jerry was probably the strongest guy in the school. Coach rolled and twisted him in ways last seen during the Spanish Inquisition, ending with some kind of choke hold. Up to then, Joe and I were standing close by, mesmerized. When Jerry started turning blue we snapped out of it and started yelling at the coach to let go, being careful to stay out of arm’s reach. Finally, he loosened his grip and started, slowly, to his feet, like a bear eager for another victim. Me, I was backing away, neck hairs straight up, ready to run. I don’t think he said anything to us, the look he threw at us said enough. If we had a special kind of \punishment day, my mind has blanked it out. In fact, I don’t recall a word about it being spoken in public.

It wasn’t many years later that I learned that the coach has passed away.  I remember feeling a sadness then. I still do when some of the guys get together and the BS starts flowing thick, because it’s always said by someone that he was taken much too soon.

Jim, you may not have been a great man, there really aren’t any, but you were a great coach and an even better friend. You are still missed.

Stephen Leuchtman

Bob, As I mentioned in my June 13 post, several of us who didn't wrestle were influenced by Jim Knotts and had a friendship with him even after we graduated, although we all ended up going our separate ways.  I used Jim as a model for "Coach Hardin" (tempered a bit by Bob Parks' less volatile personality) in some short stories I wrote several years ago, some of which I'll e-mail to you as soon as I get them into my current computer. 

Two things people missed about Jim were his great sense of humor and incredible intelligence.  Incidentally, if you want some insight into his coaching style, Google Granby High School, where Knotts developed into a two or three-time Virginia state champ.  Granby was a nationally legendary program that was coached by a guy named Billy Martin (really) whose abrasiveness made Jim look like Mr. Rogers.  I miss him too.

William Cox

Bob & Steve;  Sorry I never knew the Jim Knotts, you guys got to know.....I could never get by that " I'll eat you alive" stare, that would burn right through you................Hey Bob, I'll try to attach a pict. here, remember shaving at this water tank in the middle of a New Mexico pasture???

William Cox

Wow!!!! That pict is big, scared myself.  I'll do better next time, & be sure to size it down, sorry everybody, who looks.  BC

Leonard Capelli

Sorry to disagree with most everyone else. I have very mixed emotions about coach Knotts. I did get to spend time with him later, not too long before he died. He became very mellow. My most vivid memory was football practice as a freshman. I worked out with both the freshman team and the JV that Knotts coached. I played center for Coach Pasternack and defensive line for coach Knotts. I was also 13 as a freshman, but good sized. A few of us had played Catholic league football for St. Roberts and thought we knew football. 

This particular day, Knotts had us taking tackeling practice. In three attempts I couldn't tackle Ron Walker, who was a guard   The coach decided to show me how to tackle and I had to run at him. He hit me with everything he had and drove me to the ground. The pain was unbearable and my eyes teared up. He looked at me as though I was pond scum. I sucked it up and finished practice. I did mention to Knotts that maybe Ron should be a full back, and not too long after he was and did real we'll earning all league honorable mention I think. 

I had a dislocated rib cage and was heavily bandaged for two weeks, but I didn't miss a game and only one practice. Needless to say I did not hold Jim Knotts in high esteem. 

Robert Stockton

Steve L.  – I’d like to read some of your stuff. When you located it pass it on. Your choice of the name “Hardin” sounds fitting. There is no doubt that Bob Parks was an outstanding coach, witnessed by his later success at EMU. He instilled a winning culture into the THS track team that lasted well after he left. However, I never felt a close connection with him. Had he been there our full four years, maybe it would have been different.

Bill Cox – Willie. Sure I remember shaving at that water tank, keeping one eye on the “wild” cattle drifting by. I don’t remember the picture. Who took it and whose face is peeking around yours? Looks like you had a kind of James Dean thing going on. That trip to New Mexico was quite an adventure for a sixteen year-old. Lots of wonderful memories of time shared with a great bunch of guys. Am I wrong in thinking that during three weeks of very close contact there were no serious conflicts within our group? Conflict with some other groups was a different story. I hope to see at least a few of the “Michigan Boys” in October.

 Len – I saw the incident you wrote about and you’re absolutely right, Knots went way over the line. We’ve talked about it a few times in the past. I understand your opinion and as I said it took me a long time, literally years, to change my feelings about the man.  I don’t think all his wrestlers came away with warm memories. I know Joe did and I believe Jerry as well, but I don’t think Jimmy was a fan. Some had good reason to feel as you. What I doubt is that many ended up with a neutral view. Bill’s “eat you alive” description is dead-on.   I wish I had thought of it.  

William Cox

To Len;  It all makes a little more sence now!   Tackling practice, soon after, Knotts favorite thing to do!  He has me lay on the ground, face up, between two tackling dummies. My head is on the line, so I can't see above/behind me.  Knotts blows the whistle, and pitches the ball to Walker, who is lined up in the fullback's position,  I have to get up, turn around, and greet him between the dummies. Sure thing!  Walker arrives at full speed [a frealin freight train], as I'm just turning around, prepairing for the impact.  I don't have time to set up, so I just lead w/ my head, big mistake!  I'd be two inches taller, if I'd made another choice.  I saw more stars, that day than the heavens could hold,  I never clearly knew if I really stoped him, but I remember the collision, & Knotts laughing at the ordeal................as I staggered around, waiting for my legs to cooridnate!!! Some kinda fun we had..............

To Big Bob;  That was my 'best' Jame Dean expression!!!  It's the hair that get lots of laughs at home.  I actually still have a few of those left...................It's Jim Hannah behind me, and I think Bob Nakoneczny took the pict.  I had forgotten all about the cattle.............. They'd never seen such city boyz....................

Stephen Leuchtman

In deference to Len and Bill's stories, I have to admit that my relationship with Jim Knotts probably would have been far different if he had been my coach in anything other than football when we were ninth graders.  I mainly remember Pasternak, who was a pretty nice guy.  The tackling drill Bill describes so vividly is one of the reasons I quit FB after the ninth grade, although I don't specifically connect Knotts with that drill in my memory.  I had bilateral muscle spasms in my chest and back after one of those drills, which required treatment, lasted a week, and caused me to miss the last week of freshman football.  My father went ballistic and wrote Gordie Young a long letter.  I liked the games; but it didn't seem worth what we had to go through in practice to get to them, especially since I would have had a battle royale with the Old Man had I wanted to play.

Bob, I asked Jerry Scane at our last reunion if Knotts was still alive; and he replied with great bitterness that he didn't know or care.  He said we were still children in high school, and that the way Knotts treated his wrestlers was child abuse.  There was an emotional weight in Jerry's remarks that was incredible given the long passage of time; and if he comes to the next reunion, I don't plan on mentioning Coach Knotts to him.

This is all a great example of perspective.  I had an excellent relationship with a couple of my uncles but later learned that they treated my cousins like dirt.   Likewise, my cousins had great affection for my father, who was difficult on his best day and was almost always pissed off at me for something.  I stand by my memories of and affection for Knotts---but I get what Len and Bill are saying.

PS---Great photo, Bill!  You are and were an incarnation of James Dean.

William Cox

Steve; Enjoy & value your Knotts insight...............UGH! I had serious doubts about posting that pict. I was wrapped up in the memories of those great times. 

Jonas Halonen

I don't normally respond to 2nd party negative comments, but if Jerry Scane did say that about Coach Knotts, one of the people most responsible for many of the positive and life-long lessons and attitudes that helped to form me into the person that I have been my whole adult life, I have to ask myself ... What happened to Jerry? Jerry was a very good wrestler and friend. We spent a lot of time together both on the mat and off. I just can't believe that Jerry would say such a ridiculous and demeaning thing about a person such as Coach Knotts. He was a man of high moral integrity and perhaps uncompromising principles. He brought out the best in people. Maybe you didn't like his methods, but it wasn't an easy thing to do then ... or now! He will always be a part of me!

Stephen Leuchtman

Joe, there's no if about it.  Maybe I shouldn't have repeated Jerry's comments; but the fact is that not only did he say what I quoted (verbatim, but very condensed) at the last reunion, he made similar comments at the one before.  If I misunderstood Jerry, someone can tell him what I said and I'll accept his rebuke.  But don't hold your breath.  Keep in mind that Bob said not everyone who wrestled for Jim was a big fan---like you and Bob are.  By the way, I didn't say I disliked his methods.  I wasn't familiar with them.

Let me repeat this in case you missed it.  I'm on your side in this.  I spent a lot of time talking with Coach Knotts in HS and after; and I believed him to be consistently friendly, compassionate, direct, and, as you said, principled.  After Bob Parks left, Jim was the person I went to for athletic (and sometimes other) advice, not the ineffectual guy who replaced Bob as our track coach.  Jim was at the Regional Meet the last time I broke our school shot put record, and I talked to him and got moral support from him between throws.  It meant a lot to me then and now.

If you want to discuss this further, you can e-mail me at leuchlaw@gmail.com.

Best, 

Steve

Leonard Capelli

Bill, I guess I am not the only guy who thought Knotts was a little over the top. In his defense, I learned to wrestle in gym class. Since Bob, Joe and Gerry were wrestlers I seriously thought about going out for the team. But I couldn't beat Weibeck. I couldn't beat Steve either in the shot put, but nobody hurt me at practice. In case nobody knows, after 50 years, Steve still holds the school record. Joe and Bob remember in College I wrestled a guy from another fraternity and beat him in the semi finals for the campus intramural championship. Nobody but guys from Thurston could understand how somebody that didn't wrestle in high school could know any moves. Of course Joe and Bob gave me some refreshers before the match. I ended up losing the championship to a Canadian who had been the Canadian grade 13 national champ. Jim Knotts made sure we all knew how to protect ourselves and wrestle. His principles and motives were undoubtedly above board, but he could have tempered his actions with younger kids. 

Linda Garcia (Garcia-Shelton)

Hey, I love it!  Bring on those sports and car stories.  Reading about your adventures is like traveling internationally.

Patricia Veresan (Hughet)

I remember the parties at Edward Hines Park. We used to drive in to the park off Inkster Road  with one of our parents cars on a dirt road in the back of the park.  There was a large area in the back part of the park where everyone would park their cars, turn up the radio. and just party down.   We would meet up with each other here and just have a great time of doing nothing. We would be checking out cars, see who was there, find out what was going on and find out where to go next.  Of course there was alcohol there, somebody would bring it and share it.  Beer was the drink of choice. I never liked beer or wine, but I had my 1st taste of Sloe Gin Fizz there.  That was a very popular drink back then for the gals, as you didn't have to have a mix for it to drink, but was it ever strong and sweet.  I don't know how I ever drank that stuff now.  Sometimes the Police would come by late at night and chase us out, but there never was any trouble during the times I was there.

What are your memories of Edward Hines park?

William Cox

Big Joe; Nice to see you weighing in here, [ no pun intended ].....It seems we all have a little different view re. Mr. Knotts.  It appears to me that you guys, that were able to continue a relationship w/ him after high school have a different view of the man.  To a 14/16 year old, for me it was scary, I just couldn't get my young boy mind wrapped around that type of demeanor.  Maybe if I had stayed around,  I might have been able to view the depth of the man, as some of you did???

To Len;  I was in the same boat.  I thought if I went out for wrestling, It'd improve my personal brand w/ Knotts for football.  But!!!  I'd either have to take on "Big Bob S." or sprend most of my time in john, trying to shed wait, & what for ??? To face " Crazy Joe H"  we all knew how that would turn out...... I took the "pond scum" option w/ Knotts....................You have to realize that Gordie Young hired all these guys...............Did anybody figure out why we always scrimmiged down in Mau Mi Ohio every year????  I got insight into that reasoning, 30years later????   

David Daniels

Guess I'll get in here about Coach Knotts.  I never wrestled or played football at THS, so I only knew him from gym class.  But Len is right -- I learned how to wrestle from him there.  I was pretty good in class, but as a swimmer I never considered wrestling . . . probably that and because Knotts scared me.  However, I did wrestle when I got to Wayne State, and I had learned enough from him to make the team.  Unfortunately for me, the best guy on the team, a blind man named Al Harris (and probably the best wrestler I ever saw) was in my weight class.  Nobody, including our coach could beat Al.  I couldn't cut enough to go lower, but I could beat everyone in the class above me, so coach put me there.  My first varsity match was against Western Ontario in London.  At the time, they had 3 Canadian nation champs on the team.  I'm wresting against a guy who probably normally outweights me by 15 to 20 pounds, but he wasn't a national campion . . . only a runner up.  Pinned me in 1:19.  I guess Coach Knotts didn't teach me quite enough.  By the way, Mracna was pretty upset to find out I was wresting.  I had been scared of him too, but it didn't matter any more.

Robert Stockton

A few days ago when Len Capelli wrote about a “race” he and I had down Telegraph he called my car the Good & Plenty. Until then I hadn’t thought about that car for a long time, but Len’s story started some memories leaking.

It was my second car. My first was a 55 Buick Special wreck that my dad had managed to get running, sort of. It was blue and white and Chinese red. The red was my ill-advised addition. The car’s lower panels were rusted in spots. I painted the rusted areas bright Chinese red under the assumption that it would make the rust less obvious. This was before I discovered Bondo. Anyway, the result was as bad as you’re imagining and what I got for doing my own thinking. The Buick had a dandy three speed automatic transmission, including 1, 2 and D. After about a week I was tooling along and clunk. The meaning of D went from drive to dead. Not to worry, quick as a bunny I popped into 2 and off I went. About four days later, another clunk. Still no worry, 1 worked just fine. By now you can see where this is heading. So, one day I was going somewhere, and I think Len was the guy with me. Yep, the dreaded third clunk. No more forward gears. Pride (really lack of funds) meant calling for a tow was out of the question. Push the car home, maybe, but the transmission still had a little used R.  At that time, on a weekday, there was hardly any traffic in Redford, and then as now the cops spent a good part of the morning protecting doughnut shops. Fortunately we weren’t far from home. Staying on side streets and rolling slowly, I managed to back my way home, where later that evening my dad pronounced the Buick dead for keeps.

That was the start of a search for new wheels. The Good & Plenty was a 56 Plymouth Belvedere. Like the candy of that name it was pink and black. Luckily, it wasn’t rusted out so there was no need for Chinese red. It had a push-button automatic and, like most cars from the 50’s, outlandish fins. To say it was kind of ugly is being polite. Someone had put a big Dodge Police Interceptor engine in it. Big mistake. If the guy had been going for speed, he failed, miserably. As Len described, the car was incredibly slow from a standing start. The main advantage was it sucked gas the way only a big block V8 can do. Trying to accelerate, I could watch the fuel needle drop. Though back then when I could get Gulftane five gallons for a dollar, it wasn’t the problem it would be today.

So, what I had was a car that wasn’t fast, stylish, or flashy. It was the best car I could buy with my personal fortune of $85.00.

Right away I learned that before I went anywhere I had to check the oil and fill up the transmission fluid. It leaked about a gallon every two days. That continued until I came up with the $45 it took to get the seals replaced. I got the money picking strawberries at a farm in Livonia for $.10 a quart. If you do the math that works out to be a heck of lot of strawberries.  When the magic number was reached, I said goodbye to the farmer vowing to never pick any crop again.

With the transmission fixed it was all smooth sailing. It would be a while before I learned the car had a tendency to burn up a starter motor every four or five months. In retrospect, I imagine that was because the standard starter wasn’t intended to turn over a big block V8.

Okay, up to now it sounds like the car was a disaster. Besides the “race” with Len I did have several move memorable moments in the car. Beyond once having to borrow a butter knife to unscrew the dash in order to retrieve the dislodged Drive button, those other events took place later at EMU. Altogether, I drove the car two more years. Other than an occasional starter, no major repairs were needed. Rain, shine, ice or snow, it got me where I needed to go and, by always dying at home, it never left me stranded

Overall, I have to say the Good & Plenty gave me better than expected service for the princely sum of $85. It was a much better return than some investments I’ve made.  

By the way, when I finally parted company with that car I moved up to a 1960 Ford. It was British Racing Green with a big V8. The Ford was fast. Too fast actually, but that’s a different story. .

William Cox

It's interesting how life unfolds,   Bob, I've been doin a little leaking also, no I'm not into Depends  just yet!     As Len, I also learned some wrestling moves from you guys, messin around, and Knott's gym class.  In later years I imparted some of my very limited skills onto my son, through fatherly affection & roughousing around, as we did.  As he matured and intered high school, he was very comfortable in the grasp, and on the mats.  Those skills, then served me well, as I somehow developed into the "Old Man"  and needed to just defend myself, paybacks are hell.  Jr. went onto wrestle at the varsity level for 4 years for GR. Catholic Central, here in GR. and did quite well for himself, here on the west side of the state.  I think he was on the mats for UofM in his freshman year also...................As I reflect back, it's interesting to see how those seeds of experience grew..................Just sayin.............

Leonard Capelli

I too have an unusual car story. Frank Loutzenhiser and I had a friend that got into trouble. He was given the alternative of jail or joining the military. He had a 1953,Ford, his sister said she would sell It for $75.00. It had shiny new rims and new tires. Frank had a 51 Ford that was in great shape except for bald tires. We went half on the car so for $37.50 I had a car. Frank threw in his old wheels. I went up to Thurston and got the 4 best tires that we ran through for football. I went to a gas station and got 4 lightly patched tubes for about a buck. After a day of jumping, using a crowbar and an old air pump, I had a car up on 4 wheels and tires. It started shimming at about 30mph, but was better than my bike. The car lasted until my first senior year of college. 

Leonard Capelli

We need to get this forum started again. I am posting my most embarrassing high school moment, will you post yours?

i played in a folk singing group. We proudly called ourselves the Kingsmen. Paul Vorheis, Larry Johnson, Larry Dividick and me. I played string bass. We wore madras shirts, button down collars with sleeves rolled up, penny loafers, white sox and black pants. We were wandering minstrels at the Junior Class Carnival. We just finished an awesome rendition of New York Girls. The area was totally silent. The voice of about a ten year old boy, cut the silence, he looked at me and asked, "Have you considered using Clearisel, for you acne problem?"  I couldn't kill hm, which crossed my mind and I couldn't really hide behind the bass. So I started singing our next song, Michael Row the Boat Ashore. The group joined in and we moved on. Larry Johnson and I will try and reprise some of our songs at the reunion. Well we will sing and play guitar. Hopefully Dan Orlikowski will join in. I have some pictures of the group practicing in my living room that I will post when I find them. Now lets hear some more strories. 

Daniel Orlikowski

Hey Len, thanks for the invite to play music with you guys. I'd been bantering with Larry Johnson and he said Johnny Greenberg was bringing a guitar as well. I guess he and Larry used to play in the bars back in Mich. It would be fun to do a little jam with you all. Are you guys staying at Embassy Suites? Maybe there are other players who'd like to join in. I know Bob Bedard was a good player as well as a good wrestler, just to segue into the Jim Knotts weigh-in. I liked Knotts but then I never wrestled for him, or anybody for that matter. Just didn't wish to get my butt kicked. Of course I had him for gym class and he did come down on some people pretty hard but I guess I was one of the fortunate ones who never got that finger of his boring into my chest. Leuch and I were talking a few days ago and I didn't know until then that he'd passed away but as Steve said, we used to visit him at his house and he was a different guy from what he showed in gym class and wrestling. I was sorry to hear of his passing. Interesting to hear everyone's take on him though, and any of the other teachers we loved so well. I wonder if any will be at the reunion, in particular Lee Alpern, George Tater, or Bob Parks. I've been in touch with Parks in the past couple of years but don't know if Tater or Alpern are still around. Hope they are.

Patricia Veresan (Hughet)

Dan,

The reunion committee would love to have you guys play some songs at the reunion.  You would have to contact Jim Hardy who is in charge of the entertainment and let him know of your plans.  There will be a DJ and other entertainment and we would need to plan out a time for your group to play.

Steve did a fantastic job of finding most of the teachers for us so we could contact them, but the cost is a factor of inviting them.  We have to wait for the classmates to send in the checks for the reunion and see if we have extra money to invite the teachers. We need a lot of classmates to attend our reunion as the committee is working very hard to make this a special fun filled celebration of the "50th" anniversary of our graduation.  We are trying very hard to find classmates and  if you know of any classmates we haven't found ( check our missing person list) please let them know about our event so they do not miss out on the "50th" reunion. 

We, the committee are all looking forward to seeing you and other classmate at the reunion.

Leonard Capelli

Patti, I sure appreciate the effort you and the committe have extended. It has to be monumental.  I am staying for two nights at the Embassey suites, Friday and Saturday. I sure hadn't thought about intruding on the planned event, just picking some songs with old friends in one of our rooms or even outside if it isn't too cold. No intention on my part to try and inject anything into the planned program. First, I wouldn't do that, and second I'm not that good although the other guys are. 

Dan, I am driving and will have my old Washburn Acoustic in the car.  I will probably throw in and old tambourine too.  I think I ate my harmonica one night after too much tequila.