Comment:
Fifty years ago today, I was on the eve of my eighteenth birthday.  I was enrolled at Asheville Biltmore College, attending lectures on humanities even though I could only afford to buy two of the required eight textbooks for that class.  The math class was completely over my head, but chemistry was kind of fun.  This aspiring student was heading to classes in the morning and commuting to Mason’s department store in the afternoon to work until closing at 11:00.  A good fraction of the time I had to take a bus or hitch rides to get around.  Even today, I am a little embarrassed about how ignorant I was.  I was so naive, so uninformed, so out of touch with how the world really worked and how to make progress in it.

Of course, after one quarter of college I realized I was spinning my wheels.  I made passing grades, but it became obvious it just was not working. I had horrible study habits, even on the rare occasions when I had a little time to study; I couldn’t afford many of the text books; I didn’t have reliable transportation to get from home to school, to work, and back home again.  I dropped out and went to work full time at Mason’s.  My most exciting moment in the next 18 months was getting ten cents an hour raise in pay.

Then in the spring of ’69 my path took a sudden turn.  Uncle Sam sent me a letter.  He needed me. I thought about what to do for a bit.  It never occurred to me to try to avoid service, just as it had never occurred to me to volunteer.  I had seen the evening news where they showed body bags and helicopters, but it just didn’t seem to be part of my world.  I remembered hearing about Gene Parton’s sacrifice, which made it a little more real.  As I said, I was blissfully ignorant in many ways, but I was self-aware enough to know I did not particularly want to slog through the jungle killing people who were trying to kill me.  I was willing to go where they sent me, and do what needed to be done, but hoped to improve my odds.  I went down to my friendly neighborhood Army recruiter and signed up for four years in exchange for a small amount of influence on my fate.

Long story short, I ended up in the Army Signal School for most of a year, and spent the rest of my hitch in Germany with the Army Security Agency, tinkering with communications equipment and enjoying the hospitality of Bavaria.  Those were the best years of my young hillbilly life up to that point.  My experiences during those years opened my eyes to a possible future that involved things that were interesting, challenging and rewarding.  I began to understand how the world is a complex place filled with complex people, and I began to hope I could find a place in it, not just on the edge of it.  Maybe I could even move into the middle class someday.

Changes kept coming after getting back into civilian clothes.  G.I. Bill, A-B Tech, stumbling into a perfect career, meeting the love of my life, putting down roots, joining a church, growing a family, and in short just becoming an average middle class American; it all just kind of happened.  God has blessed me in so many ways.

Today, fifty years after the eve of my eighteenth birthday, I am reflecting on forty two years of work at Oak Ridge National Laboratory. (Yeah, I became a science nerd.) I am on the verge of submitting my retirement papers and hoping the fixed income I am about to depend on will be enough to comfortably sustain Barbara and me through the rest of this earthly toil.

I am also reflecting on foggy memories of high school. I have memories of sitting in study hall in the cafeteria as a freshman when the assassination of John Kennedy was announced on the PA; and that same cafeteria as a junior when I was told I couldn’t continue to sell candy bars at school.  (It was o.k. though, because I raised enough cash to buy my class ring!)  I remember the last day of class, after finishing a final exam.  I popped Jack Hunnicutt (a.k.a. The Hulk) on the thigh with a rubber band, causing him to chase me completely around the school campus before punching me in the arm in retaliation, as I sat “innocently” in the rear of the classroom where others were still working on their tests.  I remember this girl named Wanda (I believe you know her, Dick) who used to flick my ears from behind during class, and brazenly bragged about it when she signed my yearbook.  I remember monkeying with the wall clock in Advanced Math to shorten the class time.  I remember having such a crush on a girl whose identity shall forever remain secret.  I remember visiting the drugstore where Eddy Hamlin worked, only to be asked, in his best sarcastic voice, “Can you be helped?”  I remember our principal taking off his suit coat to lead an animated cheer during pep rally. I remember the cheerful enthusiasm of Inez Brown as she taught algebra.  It was a marvelous four years at Erwin, and I treasure both the fun and the trials.

I am looking forward to re-connecting with classmates as we swap stories, evade embarrassments, try to put aside insecurities, and just connect for a moment with some wonderful people that I really didn’t get to know very well fifty-odd years ago.

I am blown away at the efficiency and energy of the reunion committee, and can only imagine the width and breadth of difficult and time-consuming work accomplished with such grace and style.  You guys and gals are the greatest!  Thank you all for your labor of love!

Spouse's Name: Barbara

Spouse's Name: Joe

Spouse's Name: Charles

Spouse's Name: Dianne

Spouse's Name: Jerry

Spouse's Name: Gus

Comment:
My wife and I have called Scottsdale/Carefree home for 22 years.   It has been a sojourn adventure to get here.  Corporate responsibilities moved me around including Chicago, St. Louis, Kansas City, Chicago a second time, Denver,  and Scottsdale .  In Arizona I started a packaging brokerage business for SW U.S., developed it into Mexico, and sold it.  Now we live in Scottsdale in the winter and Jackson Hole in the summer.  In Jackson Hole I am active in the Sierra Club for both hiking and political action.   Local birding clubs and Photography clubs in both places keep us busy.   I don’t know how I ever found time to work.  Close proximity to the Wind River Reservation and a few Arapahoe friends have led to a love of the Plains Indian culture, its history, and all previous neo and paleo existence.  There is a movie out now, but you cannot judge a reservation by its movie.

 I had 1 ½ years at Erwin and that seems a lifetime ago………actually it was a lifetime ago.  Everyone have fun at the reunion.

Spouse's Name: Paula

Spouse's Name: Luther