SHS Class of '64 Reunion 2002, page 2
Shirley Koon to the left. Dennis Wolfe and his wife Vikki to the right.
It was good to see Shirley again, and after talking to her for a few seconds, in some way it was like talking to her that one and only time we spoke to each other back in high school. Wonder if she remembers that. I didn't until after I took this picture. Don't recall what that first conversation was about, but I bet she was on my mind the rest of the day.
Dennis and I worked together for about two hours at the Peach Queen peach shed in the summer of 1960 -- must have been towards the last of the season. I saw Dennis off and on throughout my high school career, and for a 1960's white guy, he bordered on cool. Others tried, he came as close as anyone.
Barbara Smith was my lab partner in Mr. Rhodes' biology class. Fortunately for me, Barbara was a conscientious student, so "our" frog was dissected in exemplary fashion.
Speaking of Mr. Rhodes, he was arguably the best teacher I ever had. I owe the guy -- he made the horizon seem limitless
While you can't claim being lab partners gives any special insight into character, I've always had a feeling Barbara would not have put up with my patented brand of foolishness. My judgment is suspect, but I think I got that one right.
Barbara Cooksey on the left, Willodean Parris on the smiley side.
Barbara had much to do with getting this off-year reunion together, and I may not have been able to get across to her how much the rest of us appreciated her efforts. On the other hand, I bet she knows.
Willodean. A woman of integrity. I walked up to her and said, "You don't remember me, do you." And she said she sure didn't. I asked about her cousin Terry Ballard, who may actually remember me, and apparently she's doing well.
Frank Caldwell and his wife, Leigh. He's retired and doing pretty much what he wants to, and she's a victim's advocate. I like the sound of that, victim's advocate.
(Writing this note 9.5 years after the fact -- I don't know what happened to the pic mentioned in the next sentence.) To my right was the ineffable Reverend Barry Brown, a picture of whom I did not get. Barry told us a Dickey Seay story, and it was some kind of funny. You had your Miss Guess, and your Mr. B.H. Tucker and young Dickie Seay, who was at the time exploring the limits of social conformity.
How was it I missed Dickie Seay?
