I don't know for sure who was responsible for nick naming Rick the "wailer one". But I know why! At the top of the chair lift he would always say "lets wail" and we all would go. I can still see his smile; it seems to me he was always happy back them. Im so sorry the shit happened to him!
I first met Rick in the 9th grade when I moved to Salem (Judson). He was my neighbor and I got to know him through skiing. He hung around with Jeff Roselle a lot and we did a lot of skiing together. Jeff always called him "little Ricky wailer one". Dr. Ahlbin used to take us to Timberline a lot (before we could drive). I asked...."why don't we go to Hoodoo = where all of our friends are"? He says....my dad prefers Timberline, because there is no Bar at Hoodoo. Rick was an EXCELLENT skier - way beyond my ability, but put up with me anyway. He loved skiing with Ralph Jackson (also a great skiier). He called him "Rafe" - which really irritated Ralph. Rick was always in control on the slopes, was very smooth, and fast. He always had the newest / finest equipment. Rick had that blond "surfer boy" look and had NO PROBLEM with the girls. After HS he was pretty hard to track down - and the rumor was - he was hiding from the law. When I was going to college in Ashland - he came down one week-end to ski and party. He brought this gorgeous blond girl (from California , of course). They were both tan and looked like a couple of movie stars from one of those "surf" movies. He said he was tiring of her. I say great - give her to me! I saw him briefly at the 20 year re-union. I would have loved to have seen him again - as he was one of my favorite people from back then. Can anyone explain what happened to him? I've heard some rumors (suicide) - but nothing for certain.
Rick rarely attended St. Mark's Lutheran but he was part of my confirmation class. I suppose we were 10-11 years old at the time. One Saturday morning he held his fist against his lips and pushed hard--something like straining to get a high note on a trumpet. When I asked him what he was doing, he told me, with his impish grin, that he wanted to show me some of the cigarette smoke he had from the previous night!
Jeff Roselle
I don't know for sure who was responsible for nick naming Rick the "wailer one". But I know why! At the top of the chair lift he would always say "lets wail" and we all would go.I can still see his smile; it seems to me he was always happy back them. Im so sorry the shit happened to him!
Jeff Roselle
Robert Curtis
I first met Rick in the 9th grade when I moved to Salem (Judson). He was my neighbor and I got to know him through skiing. He hung around with Jeff Roselle a lot and we did a lot of skiing together. Jeff always called him "little Ricky wailer one". Dr. Ahlbin used to take us to Timberline a lot (before we could drive). I asked...."why don't we go to Hoodoo = where all of our friends are"? He says....my dad prefers Timberline, because there is no Bar at Hoodoo. Rick was an EXCELLENT skier - way beyond my ability, but put up with me anyway. He loved skiing with Ralph Jackson (also a great skiier). He called him "Rafe" - which really irritated Ralph. Rick was always in control on the slopes, was very smooth, and fast. He always had the newest / finest equipment. Rick had that blond "surfer boy" look and had NO PROBLEM with the girls. After HS he was pretty hard to track down - and the rumor was - he was hiding from the law. When I was going to college in Ashland - he came down one week-end to ski and party. He brought this gorgeous blond girl (from California , of course). They were both tan and looked like a couple of movie stars from one of those "surf" movies. He said he was tiring of her. I say great - give her to me! I saw him briefly at the 20 year re-union. I would have loved to have seen him again - as he was one of my favorite people from back then. Can anyone explain what happened to him? I've heard some rumors (suicide) - but nothing for certain.Bert Paul
I have heard from multiple people that he commited suicide. I don't even remember seeing him after high school.
James Akerson
Rick rarely attended St. Mark's Lutheran but he was part of my confirmation class. I suppose we were 10-11 years old at the time. One Saturday morning he held his fist against his lips and pushed hard--something like straining to get a high note on a trumpet. When I asked him what he was doing, he told me, with his impish grin, that he wanted to show me some of the cigarette smoke he had from the previous night!
Linda Morley