A
NIGHT!
Parkside High School Class of 1967
35th Class Reunion
"That Was Then, This Is NOW!"
The rest of the story...
It's hard to believe that the reunion has already come and gone! The months of planning were almost as much fun as the reunion itself. We plan to post photos and personal accounts of the evening. Scroll down to see who has already responded and check back every now and then for more! You can fill out the section at the bottom of the page to add your own thoughts.
Classmates Who Were There
Lural Baltimore, Clark Bisbee, Nancy Breitmayer Godwin, Barbara Brown Smith, Marian Bruce Bliznik, Bob Clem, Melissa Clevenger, Diane Crandall Green, Jim Crawford, Larry Crosby, Mary Denherder Bassnett, Linda Everett Karsten, Dan Fiero, Rick Godden, Sally Goodwin, Mike Hartke, Jan Hoffman Scherzinger, Bill Honer, Gail Horthrup Soper, Judi Howell Wellman, Barbara Huse Goergen, Webb Hutchens, James Jensen, Sandi Jones Hirsig, Susan Kopplin Kienholz, Mike Korten, Connie Lake, Katy Lubahn, Jan Markowski, Marcia Maynard Loring, Cindy Myers Miles, John Oehlerking, Leslie Oldacre Hill, Dan Olesky, Candy Palmer Roy, Mike Parette, Bob Parshall, Carol Pawlick Kozelka, Janice Robinson Fater, Judi Robinson Lauwers, Jeanne Schaffer Cochran, Beth Sibson Williams, Den Slattery, Lyle Smith, Joanne Swihart, Paula Thompson Reiley, Douglas Vasbinder, Chris Walton Medlar, Linda Walz Pelton, Genette Wandel Gillard, Julie Watkins Green, Pam Webb Darnell, Dick Willbee, Greg Young, Carol Yunck Holtz-Croake, and John Ziegler
Teachers Who Joined Us
Peter and Jacqueline Blake, Jerry Carey, Keith and Mary Kay Fisher, Dennis and Mabel Kiley, Jay and Margaret Kleinert, Jack and Marlene Koch, Kevin Murphy, Cyril and Barbara Pombier, Roy and Betty Rider, Ben and Martha Sierra
Class of 1967 35th Reunion Booklet
If you missed the reunion you can still purchase a reunion booklet that contains brief histories of your classmates along with contact information. A limited supply is available. To obtain a copy, E-mail Jan Robinson Fater jfater@aol.com
Classmates Reflect on the Evening...
Reflections from Den Slattery
Reflections: I spent 26 years of my life in the military so this was only the second reunion I was able to attend. When I was a teenager I used to work as a caddy at the Jackson Country Club and the place still reminds me of those days. However, I'm glad I'm not still hauling someone's clubs around.
In our high school year book they predicted that I would become a "pill pusher." I'm not sure if that was because someone thought I would go into medicine (doubtful if they knew my G.P.A.) or become a drug dealer. I did neither. The "pill" I push is the cure for a spiritual problem that separates us from God--it's called the "GOS-PILL" (Correct spelling is actually "Gospel"). No one could have predicted that because I was an atheist when I joined the Marine Corps in 1968. After my training I was sent to Vietnam and had what some would call a "battlefield conversion." I later ended up becoming an Army Chaplain and retired in 1998. I now serve as a Methodist pastor in Ludington, Michigan. I have written my story up in a book titled--"From The Point To The Cross." At the reunion I mentioned some of that when I was asked to prayer over our food at the beginning of our evening together.
I enjoyed seeing some of you that I haven't seen for a long time--Lyle Smith,Bill Horner,Bob Clem,Rick Godden,Diane Crandall,Mike Hartke,Webb Hutchens,Leslie Oldacre,John Oehlerking,Dick Willbee,Chris Walton and John Ziegler. I went to grade school, Jr. High, and High School with many of you and I have often wondered what became of you. I have prayed for many of my classmates over the years, once I discovered that prayer actually works.
I was sorry that I had to leave early but I preach on Sundays and had to make the almost 4 hour trip back to Ludington that night. But it was a joy to be with all of you. Thanks for the pleasure of your company.
If you'd like to view my webbsite go to www.t-one.net/den or just type my name on the Google search engine.
Den Slattery
Reflections from Judi Robinson Lauwers
In my wildest imagination I could never have scripted a better experience than was had on June 8th. First and foremost I admit to selfishly wanting to spend time with my own circle of friends from years gone by. I had been to only one other reunion (the 18th) and visited with so few people. I was determined to take the opportunity to visit with as many people as possible this time. We planned a separate gathering with my circle of friends for the following morning, which gave me the time I wanted to spend with so many other classmates, some I hadn't really spoken with since grade school!
I cannot say enough about what a pleasure it was to help with the planning of this reunion. It all started with finding Classmates.com on the Internet in mid January. After contacting Pam Webb and Diane Crandall, and realizing this was a reunion year, the planning just took on a life of its own! The past six months have been a whirlwind of phone calls, emails, and much laughter. It is truly a blessing to have so many great friends and to pick up as if the 35 intervening years never took place.
Thank you to everyone who helped to make the 35th a success, both by helping to plan and by attending and sharing in the excitement of the evening. My one regret is that there is still a long list of classmates we were unable to locate. Hopefully, with 4+ years to plan for the 40th, we will unearth many who are still missing. I hope to see even more classmates at our 40th!
Diane Crandall Green is busy getting ready to return to the family home in England. I told her I would post a note she had sent to me, which is printed below.
Reflections from Diane Crandall Green
We all took a break from "reality" for awhile and transported ourselves back in time about 35 years. It felt pretty good. Of course, you can't live there forever, but it was fun while it lasted. I think it's good for the soul to do a little reminiscing and see just how blessed we were, and are, in our lives! The whole thing was such a good experience for me. The older I get, the more nostalgic I get.
Reflections from Pam Webb Darnell
I had wanted to write a journal as we started planning the reunion, fearful that I'd forget too quickly every detail of the spirited communication that suddenly invaded my life and was making me nostalgic for the late 60s again. My hectic business gave me an excuse not to journalize, but in retrospect the details are not that important to me now. The process and the results of reconnecting with that part of my past were more enjoyable than I ever imagined!
One of my best memories is the first conference call the committee had back in January. As each member tentatively chimed in with her name, the network of warm feelings grew, and I could picture each face, some more clearly than others, admittedly. The energy over those phone lines was electric--we all had so much to say, to catch up, yet there was business to be done, and a generous angel was paying for the conference call. I was smiling, and I could feel others smiling, talking and joking as if nothing but a day had passed, when in reality it had been nearly 35 years for some of us.
What was stunning to me that night was the breadth of talent and ability reflected in this little group of over achievers. It was almost cosmic. Mostly scattered from Jackson to the East and Midwest, the core committee brought our collective years of experience to the party in many forms. Accounting, organizational development, advertising, public relations, interior design, event planning, networking, information technology and more. Our teachers would have been proud! We did our homework, brainstormed a hundred ideas, kept the best and revealed some amazing creativity in the ideas that didn't make the final cut. Behind the scenes, the Calling Committee was working feverishly to try to locate classmates in and around Jackson, a task that had some interesting and painful results.
With a short time line, less than six months, we had many important decisions to make, generating a buzz of activity for weeks. Each subsequent email, conference call and phone call reflected our short-term democracy, giving every idea fair play while respecting our differences. Ironic how reminiscent it was of days at PHS, planning homecoming, getting The Heritage to bed, working on a club fundraiser. Only this was more fun, because we were squeezing it in among family, job and personal responsibilities, balancing several acts at the same time. I recall someone even cooking dinner for her family during one or two conference calls! Talk about multi-tasking!
As time went on and we were in the final stretch, I ended each day visualizing the entire event, moment by moment. Would people like the venue? Would they have fun? Would I recognize anybody? What to wear? Silly questions as it turned out, but we were so organized there was not much to do in the final days but fret over small stuff. Once I got the program book to the printer, I started to realize what we had accomplished with lightening speed. My mantra: thank God for the Internet!
Party time finally arrived and I loved every minute of it. Loved the fact that without nametags I would not have recognized many people, not because they had changed so much, but because most of us were just faces across a classroom back then. We had our cliques, little groups of pals, teammates, neighborhood friends, linked by a few threads of coincidence, shared interests or competition. Fate would not keep most of us together much beyond Parkside, so we lived for the moment as teenagers do. Our faces were smooth canvases then, innocent, hopeful, fairly carefree.
Now, our faces have character, reflecting 35 years of personal lives, loves, jobs, children, heartache, joy. It seemed to me there was a lot of joy at the club on June 8, 2002; and some deep respect for life's fragility, as people studied the display of classmates who left this world too soon.
As people greeted each other with bear hugs, kisses or honest handshakes, I felt respect in the air. As if collectively we realized how important those Parkside relationships were to our eventual development as decent human beings, even if we weren't best buddies back then. We've all grown up, to one degree or another. The mantle of competition is laid to rest. At age 50+ we are better able to accept one another and learn from each other than we were even 10 years ago. How refreshing!
Two final thoughts:
Thanks to everyone who worked on the reunion and those who attended.
It was over way too soon.
Reflections from Barb Brown Smith...
Judy Robinson asked me to write a review of the 35th PHS Class of 1967 Reunion. I'll do it, but with a disclaimer: I do not have an objective view of this reunion. I know very little that occurred outside my own bubble of interest. I spent the night babbling to people, my glasses off, unable to see beyond the blurry face across from me.
I do think I can make one generalization: this was the reunion—everyone reaches it eventually—where name tags were necessary. This was the reunion where you could not recognize at least half your old friends. That was a little unnerving. One friend--I won't give her name (ok, it was Sandy Jones)-- stood by the entrance, mad as hell every time a friend walked in and didn't recognize her. Sandy: your hair is short now, and red! It's a change!
The other half of our old classmates looked exactly the same, which was equally unnerving. Among them were Gail Horthrup, Sue Kopplin, Cynthia Myers, Barbara Hughes, Connie Lake, Jan Hoffman, Mike Hartke, Katy Lubahn…
About 150 people showed up, and the event was superbly organized. As we filed into the Jackson Country Club's function room, each person received a name tag and a reunion book containing our high school photos with a current bio of those who responded to queries sent out a couple months ago. A photographer took photos for a yearbook update that will be mailed sometime soon, I hope.
I read every bio in the reunion book. How could one have predicted that Paula Thompson would grow up to restore violins and hunt game in Africa? That Carol Yunck would be Vice President of Purchasing for Coty, Inc. in New York, or that Clark Bisbee would be state rep. for Jackson? That Bridget Babbs is a slot attendant in a casino in New Orleans? Bridget's is my favorite entry, next to Lyle Smith, occupation: "Urban Guerilla". Lyle, who has evolved (perhaps de-volved) into a Hunter Thompson-esque figure at reunions, always generates cheers by just being himself.
I spent the first half hour of the reunion positioned by the door, watching for friends, then screaming and throwing my arms around them when they appeared. I think a band played, and at some point, Bill Thomas, a good comedian, performed. Some People (ok, Jeannie Shaeffer) became rambunctious, which fit the mood nicely. Dinner was something with a cherry sauce, but I was too excited to eat.
I think most people spent the evening talking. I know I did. I spent long sloppy moments with my arms draped around Connie Lake, telling her she was the "heart and soul" of us all. I pledged undying loyalty to Nancy Breitmayer, who was the best friend ever. How many times since high school have I experienced a moment in life that only Nancy could appreciate—but without Nancy there to share it with me? I had nothing to drink but a single Coke, so this behavior was generated by genuine, adrenelin-fed affection for old friends. At 52 I am so through with trying to keep a lid on my emotions. Aren't you? Life's too short, and friends are sometimes better than family.
Let's see, what else? Several teachers attended, but I never made it to their table. Genette Wandell, always great looking, is now falling-down gorgeous. Speaking of "W's", everyone hoped that Wendell Goler would favor us with a surprise visit—he's the Washington Correspondent for Fox News—but he didn't. Leslie Oldacre was at the reunion, looking very much like herself. Does anyone remember the beauty of her voice in the last school musical she appeared in before she moved?
In addition to Wendell, I would have loved to see John Wall, Steve Gilzow, Cindi Blakely, Cindi Melling, and Dave Beemon, who I ran into during the mid-‘70's, waiting table at Casa Mexico in Harvard Square, Cambridge. I want to see Meryl Brocke, my chemistry lab partner, who kept me going through that awful class. I want to tell Bob Ahronheim that his cartoons in the Heritage were brilliant.
I would have liked to spread my sleeping bag on the floor of the Country Club with everyone else, and keep the party going for a few more days. But I left at 11:30, knowing I had to catch a flight back to New England the next morning. I drove to my parents' home across foggy back roads, always on the verge of getting lost, feeling that I had just exited a time warp. Really, people: you should have been there. Next time!
If you need help, please contact me:
Judi (Robinson) Lauwers
228 Park Lane, Chalfont PA 18914-3135 / USA
Phone: (215) 822-5545
Fax: (215) 822-1281
E-mail: parkside@bsccenter.org
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