Class History
Back in 1951, the class of '63 was first brought together. Because of the time element, only the most impressive happenings are included in this history. The charter members who are present here today are Carol leach, Melody Wheaton, Don Cornell, Sharon Leach, Tim Dennis, Audrey Erway, John Mayo, Linda Wade, Carol Van Orsdale, JoAnn Payne, Kay Lewis, Kaye Cornell, and Myself. Through the years we have picked up Bob Paul, Pat Terry, Bev Hall, Sonjia Strait, Ken Allen, Barb Lamphear, Pat Earley, Kathy Walker, Gary Plumley, and just recently, we have adopted Miss Swartzfager.
In the first grade, we were pretty much the shame shape, all of us were just learning to tie our shoes, button our shirts, and probably the most important, were learning to count. First we learned the numbers on and two. We could use them every day when we had to use our private litttle room. I'm sure that none of us will ever forget our first grade teacher who gave us our first big boost -- Mrs. Loper.
I second grade, we had the routine pretty well learned. We studied the four R's readin', rittin', 'rithmetic, and our favorite, recess. The thrill of the swings and teeter-totters was always more lasting than being able to hold a pencil the size of a Lincoln log and trying to write with it.
Third grade was a little easier. You see, our teacher was single so she sympathized with the many romances which were going on in the classroom. Romances like snakes, worms, and butterflies.
In fourth grade, it was back to to old grind stone--work, work, work-- from the time we got to school until the time we left for home. The only time we had fun was when the teacher left the room, although we had to station someone at the door to watch for her return.
The fifth grade was one of those years where everything we did was right. Nothing that we did was in the least bit incorrect, for you see, our teacher had two sons who were always doing things just like we were. Only they were doing all those things just a little bet better. I guess that had a good effect on us, for it seemed to stimulate interest in equaling the accomplishments of those two boys. We also developed some fine track stars. Seems how some of the girls were out-running the boys, so the boys naturally began to get in shape for the chase which was to begin in a very few years. I guess this chase is still going on.
In sixth grade, instead of having dinner music, we had after dinner stories read to us while we learned how to digest our food in a humanly manner. And speaking of manners, gym classes that year were devoted to learning the art of dancing. The girls, of course, knew how, and the boys were not going to be shown up by the girls so out came the paddle. The softball games were sometimes educational. We had to teach the umpire what number comes after two, and how many outs are in an inning. In this year, one of our classmates tried deep sea diving but dropped out on the first leg of his journey. We also launched our class as a club. Each month we elected new officers and paid dues which we planned to use to pay for a flower garden for the school.
In seventh grade, we started the merry-go-round of being kicked from one teacher to the next. General Science taught us the right and left hand laws of electromotive force. Yes, it was a big day when we could carry yellows slips to the basement with us.
Eighth grade was so much more educational than all the others, because by then all the teachers had us pegged. We couldn't even get majority rights until we formed the Tree Stump Club. The Club held status until Don, the King, started sharing the throne with Kaye. Then at Halloween, a mean old witch made us stay away from the parade of goblins. The end of the year found us all graduating with full honors, new suits and dresses, and of course a posie which began to look pretty sick toward the end of the Graduation ceremony.
After being duly initiated, we were full-fledged members of the Freshman class. Our full voting rights weren't granted, though, until just recently when we had enough membership in the chief governing body, the Student Council. In that year, Tim began his political career by using the influence of the press to spread his doctrine. Our class Joined the Sophomores in a joint dance where we all found partners for a wonderful hayride sponsored by Melody. I guess Melody planned the seating arrangements at the same time she was planning here rabbit pens, girls on one side, boys on the other. There have been some changes, however, because that night, the girls' side of the wagon had a flat tire. We also had a class party with dancing for the girls and games for the boys. In General business, we learned how to keep the records of the Jasper Mouse-trap factory in good order.
Our Sophomore year was devoted to the study of Latin and the searching out of a girl to go steady with with the rings which we ordered. In this year, Ken and Bob discovered that cars were more fun than homework. Since then, Bob has tried to compete with the teachers, but found out that he didn't need the prestige. I guess there used to be red-lights in Hedgesville, but some people never stopped for them, so they took them out and put in a youth center which never panned out either. Because of a small disagreement with the Freshman class, we took over the traditional Freshman-Sophomore dance by ourselves. And because of the money-conscious political leaders of our class we also organized a talent show. Everyone enjoyed it except the nervous performers. To save money in the spring when we decorated the Church for Baccalaureate, we tramped through flower gardens and posie patches in search of flowers so we wouldn't have to buy any.
The first part of our Junior year was used to learn the art of salesmanship, while Kathy and I were vacationing south of the border. The same year, Pat, Carol, John, and Linda found what seem to be rather permanent partners. Of course some of the others had short spasms of class ring fever. Our dance that year was "Hawaiian Moonlight." We devoted much time to our Junior year to big sports, and Thursdays learned the good and bad points of our last gave while we were learning to adjust seat belts, and how to blow our horn at a girl while driving on the wrong side of the road. Occasionally we lost Mr. Johnson, but finally found him in the boys basement playing cops and robbers.
Last fall, the class of '63 got started with a bang. We began breaking in a new teacher, and immediately go to work on our play, "the Katz' Whiskers." Our class seemed to fit this little farce quite well, and after a few personality clashes, had a two night stand.
I guess the most important and memorable event of our Senior year was the trip every class looks forward to, our Washington trip. The immediate reaction was about like what Moses saw when the lights went out -- all black! But we did have fun. We saw where some of the taxes for computer research goes--Miniature counters for the Capitol guards. We ran up the Washington Monument, turned people out of the U. S. Senate, and had fox and hound hunts all over the place. Miss Swartzfager had trouble with her nouns, especially when trying to find the correct restroom. Some boys even thought that they were on Candid Camera, but no such luck. Their embarrassment will never reach national fame.
New romances were started and old ones relived. Gary's mommy called, and the girls fell in love with the house dick. We went to museums, and a ball game. One was as interesting as the other. At the game, the teams ran out of pitchers and finally played baseball. At night the girls gossiped and told stories; the boys ate pizza and told stories. We even took a boatride where half of us froze while the other half kept quite warm.
Finally, we returned to Jasper, were we we treated ourselves to a wonderful dinner at the Shack on the Grass. Mr. Kennedy's Marchers went to Gorham and marched through the tar, and then went to the Alumni Banquet where we listend to the food, and ate the business meeting and speaker.
Now we are waiting to graduate and follow our own separate path, no matter whether they lead to farming, teaching, doctoring, learning, or raising children. I'm sure we will all look back on our Alma Mater and remember the first few years of our growing up with amusement, as well as with a sense of having accomplished something really worth remembering th rest of our lives
Larry Walrath
PROPHECY NOT EXACTLY FULFILLED
June 2013
Dear Kaye,
Everyone was real sorry you couldn’t attend our class reunion. It was interesting to see what all of our old classmates have been doing for the past 50 years. Please look first at our 1963 Golden Glimpses yearbook; you will see that I wrote prophecies for our class, looking ahead only 10 years (Back then my brain was unable to compute looking ahead 50 years…) Using my skills as a former investigative reporter, I was able to learn whether my prophecies were correct or incorrect 50 years later, and not surprisingly, there were some hits and misses. Frankly, here are the real TRUE stories of our classmates (not what they wanted you to know in the biographies they sent). Let me bring you up to date.
Bob Paul actually didn’t become a famous tattoo artist and didn’t go to Africa to teach this body art to the natives. He did, however, become a local tattoo artist and has tattooed the hidden body parts of many Hedgesville-area natives. Apparently his long-time partner, Carol, has forgiven him for tattooing his first girlfriend’s name on his own hidden body part.
Tim Dennis was there with his wife, but he did NOT have six kids (that he knows about anyway…) He did become well-known as an orator through his career in politics, though, bellowing at liberal Democrats in a way that made even Bob Dole green with envy.
Bev Hall did not become an ambassador to Russia and never taught U.S. fads to Mrs. Khrushchev, although once in the early ‘70s she did send her an airmail letter suggesting that a lady of her distinction and, ahem, Hummer-like proportions in the seating area, might not want to appear again in public in lime green polyester bell bottoms.
Audrey Erway did not have four more boys; however, to make up the deficit, she did become well-known as Troupsburg’s “crazy cat lady” after adopting hundreds of cats. Bill, fortunately, supports his wife’s quirky behavior completely, although that wasn’t always the case. After issuing an ultimatum to Audrey that “it’s me or the cats,” he quickly learned who might become homeless.
Kay Lewis actually stayed quiet and shy and was never named “Woman Talker of the Year.” Just ask her husband; he’ll state with complete honesty that Kay, the perfect wife, has never once raised her voice or argued with or nagged him about anything. Not one little thing! Never!
Sonjia Strait did become engaged to a handsome airline pilot, but ended the relationship after learning that some of the other airline stewardesses were providing him with more than coffee or tea during flight delays.
Sharon Leach, after all these decades, still gets up at 5 a.m. but not to feed cows or babies. On the dot: 24/7/365, she is up and going. In fact she is hoping to get her life-time record of consistent early risings into the Guinness Book of World Records. She only needs to get up that early for two more years to beat the current record, which is held by her sister, Sheila. Unbelievable sibling rivalry going on there! Not to worry, Sharon, but do you know my sister Jean has been getting up 4:30 a.m. every day since she was 14? But not to worry…
JoAnn Payne could never convince anyone to go on the stage with her to do comedy. Lynn, her husband, thinks she is funny just being herself. For example, he cracks up every time she asks him to take out the trash or mow the grass.
Ken Allen did not become a doctor, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like the medical field. Rumor has it that he “gets sick” a lot so he can go to the doctor’s office or hospital to get his temperature taken or a shot by one of the cute, young nurses. He even tried to get his wife, Carol, to buy a teensy nurse’s costume to wear one Halloween.
Gary Plumley, desperate to get into show business, actually auditioned for the Mitch Miller Show after learning that, indeed, they needed some good tenors. Unfortunately, by the time the audition was scheduled, his high school voice had deepened to baritone and he was out of luck with Mitch. Later he landed a short stint on Hee Haw, not singing, but making sure the price tags on were secured firmly on Minnie Pearl’s hats. He’s now hoping for another chance in show biz with the unlikely decision that someone will produce “American Idol for Seniors.”
Melody got married and had three red-haired children, but didn’t, despite being our brainy valedictorian, write a book. That’s because for many years she was irrationally obsessed with the color red. She became a strawberry blonde, named her children Scarlet, Ruby and Rose. She made only cherry pies or red velvet cakes for dessert. She only watched TV shows that featured redheads, such as “I Love Lucy,” “The Reba MacIntyre Show” and Danny Partridge on the “Partridge Family.” She wore only red shoes and clothes and became president of her local Red Hat Society. Her kids drank only cherry or strawberry Kool-aid. She planted only tomatoes and radishes in her garden. Her one big fight with Bob was in 1984 when he foolishly came home with a new blue Chevy. Come on, Bob, you had to know she would “see red” over that! Fortunately she went to many meetings of AA for People with Red Obsession and returned to normal. Lately she’s been absent-mindedly humming songs such as Blue Velvet or Blue Hawaii and making blueberry pies. Look on the bright side, Bob, now you can buy that blue car you’ve always wanted.
Patsy Earley did become a dancer at the Peppermint Lounge in New York City. Mick Jagger came in one night in the late ‘60s and swept her off her feet. So she became one of his hundreds of groupies who followed him from concert to concert. Even though he kept marrying other women, Mick would tell her she was his “one and only true love.” And like crazy-in-love fools everywhere, she believed him. To this day she waits backstage for her 70-year-old flame, knowing that in about 10 or 15 years he will leave the fast life of a musician and settle down with her, possibly in assisted living. Don’t try to tell her otherwise; she will not believe you.
As predicted, Carol VanOrsdale became a swimming instructor at the YMCA in a big mid-west city. However, she quit her job after the Village People became famous, singing that iconic song about the YMCA in the mid-1970s. Every time she told someone where she worked, they would start singing and wildly forming the YMCA letters with their arms. She got really sick of that! So she moved back home and worked in Hornell at Marion Rohr, the panty shanty, until it went out of business. She continues to make stylish (and sometimes racy) underwear at home to give as Christmas gifts and sell on E-Bay.
John Mayo become hugely successful: a big, over-paid muckety-muck CEO at a top Fortune 500 company, not making safety pins but state-of-the-art, high-tech computers. He gave Steve Jobs a run for his money at Apple. He came close to shutting down Bill Gates over at Microsoft. All his life John had to fend off beautiful women in droves (we understand that all three original Charlie’s Angels chased after him). He finally married a gorgeous, filthy rich Swedish heiress. His beautiful children all graduated with top honors at Harvard, and his lovely grandchildren are following suit. John drove to our reunion in a top-of-the-line BMW. Success is John’s middle name. WE. ALL. HATE. JOHN!
Naively, when I wrote to Linda Wade decades ago, I predicted that she and her future teenage husband would visit me and my future teenage husband in Texas. Not surprisingly, that didn’t happen. I mean, what do teenagers, except for smarty pants Audrey, know about lasting love? Linda has done a lot of wonderful things with her life, helping many people, and is happily remarried with a fabulous family, but still, she confided to me secretly that her greatest longing is to run off to an ashram in India to “find herself.” Lots of women get this way, Jerry.
As for me, it’s been hard to surpass being named FFA Sweetheart in high school. Nothing has compared to that moment when I first learned that our school’s future farmers saw me as a girl who looked good on a tractor. In fact, all the best things in my life happened in high school: playing the triangle, playing half-court girls basketball, and playing Sharon’s snarky daughter in our high-brow high school play. Unrealistic to think life would ever get better than that.
Regarding those who did not attend the reunion: Kaye, can it be true that you are still being chauffeured around in that worn-out early1960s-era white Ford? Your old classmates hope not. We pray you are now being chauffeured around in a white 2013-era Mercedes. We heard you became a nurse. Did you ever get a call from Ken Allen, wanting to get together for “old times sake?”
Pat Terry did become a math teacher in Woodhull, but soon left the field to work in another, shall we say, more lucrative numbers profession. He was last seen by Melody, strolling on a Florida beach with his young wife, wearing loud plaid shorts and sandals with socks, and mumbling incoherently. .
Don Cornell eventually stopped playing baseball and paling around with Pete Rose at gambling casinos. Or at least that’s what Don wants everyone to believe.
Larry Walrath never made it to South America, but he did get as far as Texas where, retired, he now lounges around the house all day in his bermudas and flip flops, creating useless websites and annoying his wife, Donna, with unanswerable “why” questions.
Kathy Walker decided never to get married after working as a marriage counselor; she began to notice that she was encouraging most people to get divorced. When they didn’t, she decided they deserved each other, and charged them extra money to hear that. Today, she lives in Atlanta, living her fabled “golden years” babysitting an infant grandchild. Who do you think is doing the most crying in that situation?
Barbara Lamphear, unfortunately, has apparently been taken aboard an alien spacecraft and is living on another planet (happily we hope).
Guess who else showed up at our class reunion? Two of our favorite teachers: Mr. Nosky and Mr. Fisher. (I strongly suspect our male classmates were disappointed that Miss Schwartzfager didn’t show up, too.) Anyway, too bad you had to miss seeing them. Both are retired and look great! Although they felt gratified by their chosen lifes’ work, they had a few reservations.
Mr. Nosky kept reiterating that, despite his and millions of other English teachers’ best efforts, way too many students leave high school with poor grammar, saying things such as “Me and Billy is best buds,” or “Like, I want to study, like, you know, brain surgery, like.” And he admits he cries almost every day, learning that within a day or two after graduation most students forget how to properly conjugate a verb and that, addicted to computers, not one of them will ever again write a single sentence in cursive or read a hard-copy book.
Mr. Fisher, likewise, seemed resigned that, despite his and millions of business teachers’ best efforts, many students never learn the difference between a debit and a credit, ultimately leading to personal financial decisions that play a large part in national economic downturns. He feels redeemed, however, when former students tell him his typing classes made the most positive and useful difference in their lives. Years ago he only heard this from girls who became secretaries; but later, addicted to their computers, boys realized the limitations to their own careers if they didn’t ditch the two-finger, hunt-and-peck dance.
Well, that’s about it, Kaye. These are my stories and I’m sticking to them.
Sincerely, Carol Leach Carpenter