INTRO to My 2018 PHS Class of '68 Profiles

A recent New York Times book reviewer wrote a description of characters in a novel that I think describes my schoolmates:  “The characters exhibit the range of personalities that you’d expect from a random sampling of Middle Americans: nice people, abrasive people, the churchy, the alcoholic, the educated, the not. You’d probably know which of them you’d prefer to sit with at a high school reunion.” Yep. Tru dat.

Coming home to live in Canton after 40 years of not living in Canton, I have enjoyed catching up with some of my PHS characters—I mean classmates. Five years ago, I set up this blog to tell the stories of some of them in preparation for our 45th reunion. I’m back at it again for the 50th. Below, you will find profiles on ROSEMARY HAYNE, KATHRYN CULBERTSON, JERRY SIMLER, and CHRIS LARGE HAWKINS. I also have a round-up of 10 classmates who became nurses.

I need to make clear that this is not an official class blog. No one is responsible for this but me. I choose people to profile not because they were or are the most or least popular or successful but because I think they have an interesting story to tell. Maybe you’ve known someone’s story all along. I didn’t, and as a writer, I like to learn from what I write. So I sought these people out to learn something.

In general, one of the things I’ve learned from writing this blog is that many classmates thought they didn’t have many friends in high school. Bonnie Andrews Kolberg, with whom I became friends only 40-some years after graduation, used to say that to me all the time. And yet she had one true very good friend from grade school on throughout her whole life, and she let me tell that story. That friendship with Kathy sustained the two of them through dating, marriage, babies, and grandbabies, as Bonnie acquired more and more friends, including, I'd like to think, me. Her life ended way too soon and sadly for her family and her very many friends a few years ago. We miss her. But we have her story. Similarly, another classmate once told me she didn’t have many friends from high school, but when she came to a PHS ’68 girl get-together, and she walked into the room, five women shouted her name across the room, and ran over to hug her.

It’s not the number of friends you have, but the number of friends you can count on.

Two of the people I have interviewed this time—Kathy Garnett Culbertson and Rosemary Hayne-- began by telling me they didn’t have very many friends in high school. And yet, both remember others and are remembered fondly by others I have spoken to.

This time around, all of the people I interviewed are people I knew in grade school, long before high school, and with whom I had very little contact in the halls of Perry High. And yet, I have strong, clear memories of all of them as children, and meeting up with them again, all these years later, I saw them both as the wonderful children they started out as, the interesting high school characters they were, and the fabulous adults that they have become. I can’t say that I understand their lives, so much has gone missing in our connection in the past 50 years. But as the reviewer I began with noted, “Friends, especially childhood friends, don’t need to fully understand one another in order to accept one another.”

I’d add, they don’t need to understand each other in order to show up at a 50th reunion. Think about it: Weekend of September 15th. (After note: I hope to profile three to four more people before our reunion in September. If you have any suggestions, email me at my google or website address or message me on Facebook. Please don’t put post it to everyone. I am not looking so much for success stories as STORIES, accounts of interesting things that have befallen us.)

ROSEMARY HAYNE: Hometown Artist Makes Art and Good

Rosemary today

I was aware of Rosemary Hayne from the time we both were sent to Watson Elementary School in third grade by the Perry Schools administrators who decided such things, but I think we were never in a class together. I know we weren’t in third, fourth, or sixth grade, because I have the class photos for those. Maybe the fifth. Never at Edison, and I am pretty sure, never at Perry. But I always had such a strong memory of her smiling, not saying much, just smiling, and of her being one of the art students who hung out in Mrs. Sheehan’s room with Sue Scourfield, Kathi Lewis, Peg Forrest, Deb Dickinson, Don McArthur, Bill Clauss, Pam Druesedow, Don Potter, Dave Kracker, Joan Kate, and Marilyn Moore.

Since returning home to live in Canton in my retirement after 40-some years away, I've looked up some PHS classmates, and I asked Rosemary to meet me for coffee at Carpe Diem in downtown Canton to learn where she had been the past 40-some years.



I was amazed to find that all along Rosemary Hayne had been the art teacher at Edison Middle

Rosemary, yearbook photo

School!!! I wasn’t surprised to learn that she had been an art teacher, not at all. But for the Perry Schools? I couldn’t get a job in the Perry Schools to save myself (literally), even when they had one job open in two fields, both of which I had degrees in. That is another story. Rosemary’s story is this one:


Rosemary was the quiet only child of an older couple, so when she went off to college, they didn’t want her to get too very far, and she went to Ashland College. After three years at Ashland, she became discouraged at what she perceived as indifference or apathy regarding the event that led up to the massacre at Kent State on May 4th. She was also disappointed in Ashland's art curriculum, so she transferred to Kent State and graduated with a Fine Arts degree in December 1972.


A few years following graduation she took a job teaching junior high school art in Barberton where she had previously done her student teaching. The transition to  an ultra conservative-factory town  was quite a culture shock after her hippie days at Kent in the early 70’s.

While she felt she was doing a good job there, when she heard there was a job at Edison, she went for it and was hired. It was a new and better experience. At Barberton, she felt that neither the school nor the parents appreciated the teaching of art very much. She says, “Over and over, parents said to me, ‘Why does my child have to take art?’”


“And not at Edison?” I asked.


“Well sometimes the students would say, 'Why do I have to take art?' but I didn't get it nearly so often as at Barberton, and it was from the kids” she replies. “I had good support from the school and the parents, who seemed to like what their kids were doing.”

Acrylic by Rosemary Hayne

And there she stayed in the Perry Local Schools for many years, teaching at Pfieffer when it first opened. While she was teaching art, she worked in a lot of  art media, taking classes such as photography, metals, and more  at Akron U and a variety of other schools for fun.


She also worked in colored pencils. and producing her own art. She continued making art, primarily painting in acrylics both alone and with other local artists, participating in many art shows in downtown Canton. And she cultivated her love of having dogs, rescuing dogs, helping dogs be rescued, and supporting local animal organizations.

Then, like many of us, she got the opportunity to retire, which she did. In retirement,  she has taken painting classes at Malone. ("Did you know you can take classes for free at universities if you are over 60 ?!!!!!" she emailed me, a tip for all of you who are looking to stay mentally active.) She also belongs to a colored pencil art group that meets every Friday for drawing and social fun.




Untitled by Rosemary Hayne

She has exhibited a lot locally: in the Stark County Artists Show, the May Show and at the Little Art Gallery in North Canton, and for several years, she  had a gallery space in downtown Canton at the then 2nd April Galerie.  


"Dottie" by Rosemary Hayne 



"Old Blue" by Rosemary Hayne

Today, she says, "Dogs are an important part of my life. I have three: Archie, who is an agility dog and his litter mate, Sammie, whose life is focused on eating, sleeping and contemplating life. The newest member of the canine family is Annie who will hopefully follow in Archie's footsteps as an agility dog."  Like several of our classmates (hey, Alana Cowal Whittier! hey, Sue Masalko Shaffer! Anyone else out there? ). Rosemary is active in dog rescue efforts, primarily with the Stark County Dog Pound, where she has worked in fundraising  for the vet room, walking dogs, finding abandoned dogs well matched homes, and serving on the Friends of Stark Pound  Board.


Since our first coffee meetup, Rosemary and I have gotten together for an art "fix." We viewed the "Elijah Pierce" exhibit at the Canton Museum of Art, saw some movies and heard some organ music at the Palace Theater, and ate out at Basil Asian. If you like art or classic films or Thai food, let us know, and you can join us. It would help if you are a dog person.

All of the artwork is copyrighted by Rosemary Hayne. Contact her on Facebook if you'd like to purchase any or see any of her other work.

Kathryn (Garnett) Culbertson R: "Happy, Independent, Blessed, & Thankful"

At our 45^th class reunion, Kathryn Culbertson approached me and said, “My life would be a great book, if I ever get time to write it. I want to tell you about it sometime.” She briefly mentioned that her home life was terrible during our school years, that one of our teachers hid her during several weeks of school. and that another teacher urged her to leave home after graduation. 

We both managed to put off talking about it again until now, five years later, heading into our 50^th reunion. I sent her my usual questionnaire, and she replied with answers about her current life as a realtor, her joy in her children and grandchildren. When I asked her for her best or worst high school memory, she said, “School was not an easy time for me.  I never felt good enough, had no self-confidence, was very shy and I thus had very few friends.”

She left the space blank where I asked if there was anything she wanted to add, and I wasn’t going to pry. But recently, she decided she did want to add more because she has ended up “very happy, independent, blessed and thankful. I climbed up from poverty and physical and mental abuse to have a very happy filled life. I am blessed to have the most loving and amazing children. What more could I want or need? And grandchildren!”

I decided to share some of her story here because it is such a testimony to her strength and resilience. (The rest we’ll save for our book, right, Kathryn?) In addition, I want to recognize the friends that Kathryn did have at Perry. I have always thought it more important to have a few good friends than to have many acquaintances, and Kathryn surely had a few friends who were great, both fellow students and teachers.

Her real story began at age seven when she was raped by a relative and told never to tell. As we now know, that trauma effects one’s life so very deeply. And other mental and physical abuse went on in her home. She gratefully remembers Faith Edgein Plumb, who brought her lunch each day, as Faith’s mom packed the equivalent of two lunches, enough bor for each of them, and who has stayed a friend to today.  Faith confirms the story, saying, "My mom had a difficult childhood situation herself and recognized some of Kathy's need." Kahryn
also movingly recalls the friendship of Jody Dye, who transferred to and graduated from Washington High. (Jody now lives in Key West, and she is still singing professionally, everyone!)

But the big support came our junior year when a teacher [Mrs. McNutt] discovered Kathryn 

1968 yearbook photo

covered in hives, and questioning her, realized that her student had big trouble at home. Together with another teacher and an administrator, they helped her to get away from home for awhile and at graduation, Mrs. Swearingen told her to get out now that she could.

Years of hard work, medication, and therapy helped, but it was a slow process, one that took years. She notes, “Once I had children, I fought every day to get healthy and strong. And I did.”

Along the way, she went to college, where she carried a 3.9 average until she was divorced and deserted, with three children to support. She quit school and went into car sales at a Buick dealership in Toledo. She laughs, when she says, “Oh by the way, I knew nothing about cars, just faked it until I studied enough that I could talk about the features and then I learned to Sell!”

Finally, her big career move came when she obtained her Ohio license in 1985, and her Florida license in 1991. Living on the west coast of Florida for nineteen years, she specialized in “new construction and enjoyed the entire process from picking out a homesite until the finished home.” And she hopes to return to Florida in retirement. For now, which is to say the past eight years, she has lived in Miamisburg, Ohio, where she continues as a realtor who is “passionate about real estate and the flexibility it provides…[and passionate about] working with all my clients and families,” several of whom have become close friends.

Kathryn is also very passionate about her children and grandchildren, who are “fun and of course intelligent, kind and loving.” She went on about them at length, saying much more about them than she did about herself, and I am going to let her tell you about them: “My six grandchildren are the very best part of me… My oldest granddaughter is 19 and is studying to become a nurse at St. Joe’s College in Cincinnati. She has the drive and heart and compassion to become a great nurse. Next is my step-granddaughter Alexis, who is graduating from high school and then moving on to attend college this fall.  She along with my grandson, Cristian, 14 and Rauiri, 5, live in McLean, Virginia with my daughter Jennifer and her husband Roger. My youngest son, Peter lives here in Miamisburg and has two boys, Joshua 13 and Liam three and a half.  Joshua has Autism but very high functioning. I have been enjoying teaching him how to bake and cook one night a week.”

All this, and partner too: “I am also blessed to have my best friend and finance, Freddie. We have been together for fourteen years and enjoy traveling and just spending time together.”

**********

This was not an easy story for either of us to tell, but we decided to tell it--not to be sensationalist or to give you all something to gossip about. For my part,  I wanted to say that in every school and neighborhood, there are adults and children in duress, and that any small act, from a friend bringing an extra sandwich to a teacher stepping in to provide shelter can be life-saving. And Kathryn wanted us to know how possible and how important it is to work, no matter where one starts from, toward a happy, fulfilled life, which she is thrilled to have. 

When I asked if she had attended any reunions, and whether she would be attending the next, she noted, “Freddie and I attended the 45^th reunion together and had a great time visiting with my fellow Perry High School graduates. We’ll be back. We enjoyed the last one and I am looking forward to seeing everyone again. Going to a high school reunion at our age is sort of like coming full circle.”

Only now, for this classmate, the circle is wider and brighter than ever before. We look forward to seeing her, too.  

MY BOX OF LETTERS AND JERRY SIMLER'S STORY

Among the things that I have managed to haul on the 20 moves in my life, I have two huge boxes of letters I received 1968-2002. Most from 1968-1972 are from PHS friends. There’s a note from Carlee Clapper Adams, thanking me for the candy dish that Donna Cox and I sent her for a wedding present, a dish that Donna must have picked out because Donna was way more into weddings than I was… more into dishes, too, now that I think of it. Donna got me an asparagus dish for my wedding. Actually, I think they are called “asparagus PLATES,” but I am never sure about plates and dishes and silver. I am more about wine glasses. There are several letters from Donna at Kent State and some from Peggy Forrest at Wilson, and Colin Binns at Mount Union, all having a great time at college.



Yearbook photo '68

One big bunch of letters from 1968-9 is from Jerry Simler. As I’ve said elsewhere, since returning to Canton to live after 40 years away, I am meeting up with old classmates. I got together with Jerry to reminisce, and he told me a most interesting story from those days that never made it into his letters 50 years ago. Here it is.
First some backstory: Jerry and I both attended Watson Elementary, were in sixth grade with Mrs. Scheub, and then we barely saw each other during junior high and high school until senior year, when we were both in West Side Story. During rehearsals, we had a lot of time sitting around waiting for our scenes to be called—his as A-rab, a Jet, and mine as a Shark. Instead of getting homework done, Jerry and I spent the down time talking--about nothing, really—anything, so as not to be doing homework. He was often anxious, and I would try to cheer him up. Cheerful girl, he used to call me, I am sure at times through gritted teeth.

He filled two full pages of my year book that year with his big, beautiful loopy angled

handwriting, writing about the goofiness we all filled our yearbooks with at length.

In the our year following graduation, I went off to college two hours away from home, which had been my dream, and Jerry got drafted into the army. In March 1969, I received my first letter from him in basic training, a beautiful example of terrific letter-writing: written on beautiful pale turquoise stationary with two watermarks of soldiers hoisting weapons and backpacks and scanning the horizon. And so well-written! Funny and witty, despite the fact that in those days, basic training probably was not all that funny and wit-inspiring.

At the time I complained to friends that Jerry was the last person who should have been drafted. He had had terrible asthma all through grade school; I thought he just wasn’t that healthy or strong enough.  Meanwhile at my end, I was getting anxious with the repressive conservatism of my college. By the end of freshman year, Jerry’s letters were trying to cheer me up, asking me what the problem was. I could not have said why at the time.

In one letter, he mentioned that he was cooking in the army, that one morning he had broken hundreds of eggs open to scramble. Then he wrote that he had gotten in the entertainment corps, which relieved me greatly. His letters were now written on ripped-off steno paper, but still funny and lively.

I had a miserable final two years of college when I tried to transfer and couldn’t, had an emotional breakdown. And I had four worse years following college. I wanted to come home and couldn’t find a job, lost track with many high school friends, including Jerry.

But recently, now back home after 40 years away, when I found this trove of letters, I decided to look Jerry up. We got together for an hour with our yearbooks and his letters. (I had to laugh. I had filled two pages of his yearbook just as he had mine, writing on an angle.) And THEN, he opened a scrapbook, with black and white shots of himself onstage, and he told me the wondrous story of the rest of his life in the army:

Jerry was on a plane of soldiers bound for Vietnam, when a woman got on board and said there were too many on the flight. She called the names of several men, including him, and told them to deplane. Once off, they were told that they would be going to Vietnam with the next group in a month.

During that month, Jerry saw a flyer for try-outs for the entertainment corps: singing and dancing try-outs, things Jerry knew he could do. We all knew it. Recently, interviewing classmates about Jerry, Dave Motts said to me, “Oh my gosh, I was so envious of him on the dance floor. When we were all back in town, going out to the bars and clubs, Jerry was always dancing, and he was always so good. I would love to be able to dance like he can dance.”

The next day, Jerry went to try-outs and made the entertainment corps, to no one’s surprise, not even his own, but clearly to his relief. And he spent the next year and a half in entertainment. There, he starred in another production of West Side Story, this time as the lead, Tony. The black and white photos of that production are stunning. AND he was on the road with Bob Hope, an experience that was very exciting for Jerry. (See online accounts here) I told this story at my voting poll this spring, and one of the men said, "That is a great story!" It is.

Once Jerry returned to Ohio, he was as active in performance at home as he had been on the homefront. He performed and did choreography for the Canton Civic Opera for 25 years and was choreographer for the Kent State Stark show choir as well. In the 1990s, he put his talents to work for four musicals at the Canton Palace Theater. He was director, choreographer, and lead in Music Man and George M, and he also directed and choreographed Camelot and Showboat. In addition, he was a vocalist in the quartet "Strictly Four" which performed a lot locally, and were thrilled to be the opening act for The Captain and Tennille when the duo came to town.

Also in the 90s, Jerry met is lifetime partner, James Adams Carrington, at a party, and they've been together ever since, living in a sweet sweet house I visited in Perry Township, where James does the Italian cooking he is famous for.

Bob Hope, USO, Vietnam 1970s, and decades of contributing to performance arts in Stark County! I had no idea Jerry had been up to so much good. It’s what happens when you lose track of classmates. You can lose the best part of their stories. Jerry has had a long and rich life since then. After decades, he  retired but soon got bored and went into retail, thinking he would work a few hours selling men clothing at Jos. Banks, but they loved his work, and he’s working full-time now, performing better than ever on the sales floor, and with grrreat costuming!

How can this be such a small town, and yet I seldom if ever see my classmates, we who spent 12 years pent up in the same classrooms, the same cafeteria, the same hallways? It’s why I am such a sucker for reunions, a good chance to catch up on a lot of those people at the same time. Jerry is less sure of that or whether he is going to attend our 50th. I hope so because we’d all loved to see him dance again, but whether or not he does, I am glad for the hour I had to get the story I missed so many years ago. Glad to know he is looking so good, younger than ever, working hard.

Featuring Four (or Five or Six) More Classmates:

Bonnie (and Kathy), Jackie (and Scott), Jeff, and Rick



For auld lang syne,
We'll take a cup o' kindness yet
For auld lang syne.
                -- Robert Burns 1788

Well, the last round of classmate interviews that I conducted before our 45th reunion was fun, but as I circulated that October evening, more and more great stories surfaced about what our former classmates are doing nowadays. One theme that emerged was that many of us, in or nearing retirement, had begun focusing on fun activities with their spouses. So here is my account of four couples who are doing just that: Bonnie Andrews Kolberg, Jackie Lumbatis Ludwig (and Scott Ludwig), Jeff Snyder, and Rick Smyser. You will not believe what these people have been up to. Uh well, maybe if you knew them back then, you will.  

I conducted in-person, in situe (as the French say, meaning a bar, a craft store, and a coffee shop) interviews with Bonnie, Jackie, and Rick, while I interviewed Jeff with emails and YouTube viewing. Since Jackie is married to a PHS '68 classmate, I talked to him too, and since Bonnie remains lifelong friends with our classmate Kathy Indorf Morgan, I hit her up for further information on Bonnie. (What a friend: she never cracked.) And then, I emailed Greg Lintner and Jim Ferber about the band Jeff was in, and I talked to the Saylors, about the Smysers, who are all long-standing friends.
 



The poet Raymond Carver has a poem titled "Gravy," which seems fitting for these couples:

No other word will do. For that's what it was.
Gravy.
Gravy, these past ten years
Alive, sober, working, loving and
being loved by a good woman

and, in all cases, being loved by a good man, too. And not to put too fine a point on "sober." But the kids are raised, and we are retired or retiring. And we're still having fun. And (s)he's still the one. Read about them in the following four blogs.



Featuring Four (or Five or Six): BONNIE

I SAW BONNIE KISSING SANTA CLAUS:

A Story of Christmas and PHS '68 Friendship

BONNIE ANDREWS KOLBERG and KATHY INDORF MORGAN 

I met up with Bonnie and her husband Bill one very cold December night before Christmas in the Winking Lizard. They weren't at all hard to find as they were the only ones in the place dressed as Santa and Mrs. Claus, with a longgggg line of children fidgeting in front of them, waiting their turns to speak to our august classmate and her partner in joy. Some fidgeted with happy anticipation, others were in moderate agony at this event that was clearly their parents' idea of a good time and not theirs. Most seem torn. I mean, who doesn't want to meet Santa...but then, the awesomness of the whole deal hits you hard when you are only four.

As I waited my turn, I watched how good Bonnie and Bill are at this gig. They knew right what to say to each child, how close (or far) to stay. Not a single child shrank or cried, though one put up quite a front of smugness, covering up a bad case of nerves. Santa and Mrs. Claus were fine with this fake condescension and got to the point: what DID he want for Christmas? A long list ensued. A thousand angels passed. The camera light flashed. One child down and another crawled up onto Bill's generous lap as Bonnie scooched her cape close and smiled that sweet Mrs. Santa smile. The mothers and fathers looked suspiciously at me, clearly alone there in line, but fortunately, there was a lull after me, so I got to have my picture taken without inconveniencing any tot waiting to wheel and deal with the big man.

Still, I didn't want to be asking questions like, "How long have you been dressing up like Santa and Mrs. Claus?" so I saved those questions for later and met up with Bonnie again at the Winking Lizard a few weeks later. She rushed in through the rain from her job as Guidance Secretary at Jackson High, and soon we had big drinks in front of us. Margarita Night at the Lizard. I began by asking her how she and Bill happened to take on the Santa act, and she answered, "Well really, it all began with Kathy."

And most of Bonnie's life story involves Kathy Indorf Morgan, also PHS '68. The women met up in second grade at Richville. About those early years of friendship, Kathy says,  "I wish I could remember exactly how our friendship began but unfortunately I can't as it seems as though Bonnie was born part of my family.... Friday was always fish and French fry night and usually ended up with Bonnie's dad settling the argument on whose turn it was to wash or dry the dishes. We sewed dresses for our dolls before Barbie even existed. We always stood up for each other and when a 6th grade teacher insisted I misspelled a word given to me to spell for the spelling bee Bonnie spoke up and said that I was correct and that he just didn't want to see me win.... That definitely got her into trouble!" 

 

Kathy notes that they had other friends throughout junior high and high school, but the other friends always came second to their first friendship, and when they graduated from Perry, they went off to dental school together in Columbus. It seems there was post-graduation bar hopping and beer chugging in Kent. Chugging, Bonnie admits, because she hated the taste of beer so much but wanted to be cool, so she downed the beer to get the bitterness over with. I am now going to condense this sordid part of their lives except to mention that it was during this era that Kathy hooked Bonnie up with Bill Kolberg in a double date. (I would be quick to point out that "hook up" did not mean then what it means in today's dating scene.) Bonnie and Bill fell in love, married, and had four daughters. Kathy did not fall in love with the guy from that double date but another guy, and  they had children too. Bonnie and Bill eventually moved into Bill's childhood home in Jackson, while Kathy and her husband got a home in Brimfield. Still through all that the two women stayed best friends, as did their families.

 

When Kathy's parents died, she remembered her promise to her mom that the family would stay close and continue the family practice of celebrating the Christmas holidays together. But it's hard, that first Christmas after one or both of your parents are suddenly gone; the glue that held you all together seems gone, too. So Kathy was looking for something dramatic to galvanize the Indorf gang. Then she got just the idea: have Santa Claus show up at their Christmas Eve festivities. And she knew just the couple to do it. Kathy proposed, and Bonnie disposed, as the saying goes. And Bill, the all-time good sport agreed. They rented costumes that first year. And they were a SMASH. And they kind of liked doing it. They were good at it. You know how sometimes you just know you are good at something, and it's not just your friends telling you so? (Even though, Kathy clearly told them they did a great job.)

Eventually, Bonnie and Bill invested in their own costumes. They began agreeing to visit other friends' homes, and soon they were also taking paid gigs: union halls (beginning with Bill's union, and then taking on others, too), nursing homes, and schools. (If you are on Facebook, you can see many photos of them at the Jackson Schools here.) They took on the Winking Lizard crowd. On the Sunday before Christmas, they appear at their own house with plates and plates of cookies that Bonnie's daughters bake. "I don't bake," she says. "I love to cook, but I don't bake." Bill, on the other hand, has a tradition of making a New Year's cake every year which is quite the ordeal, well-documented on Bonnie's Facebook page.

But every Christmas Eve, along with stops at a few other friends' houses, Santa and Mrs. Kolberg Claus make the most important stop for Kathy's family. It's now a tradition neither of them would miss, a tradition grounded in Richville and spelling bees and study hall, dating and beer and having kids and having kids grown, the glee and the heartache, the holiday and then a whole new year to look forward to.

Happy 2014, everybody! If you are interested in having Santa and Mrs. Claus round out this year for you, you can contact Bonnie at <bonnielkolberg50 (at) att (dot) net>.* If you'd like a reference for them, contact Kathy Indorf Morgan. I can tell you already, it will be a glowing report.

*This is to prevent robo-email from picking up Bonnie's address. When you email her, substitute the @ for (at) and . for (dot).

Afterward: I have to say that one of the joys of writing this piece involves the fact that Bill Kolberg and I went to the same church as children, and when we were children, my dad was the guy who played Santa. I had no idea then. Later, when my siblings and I were grown, my mom and dad, dressed as Santa and Mrs. Claus, took to visiting my cousins' homes on Christmas Eve. One of my most cherished photos is of my mommy, dressed in a velvet suit, kissing Santa Claus.

Featuring Four (or Five or Six): Jackie (and Scott)

FORTY-NINE YEARS AFTER SOPHOMORE HOMEROOM

A Story of Love & Marriage, Art, Crafts & Shop and Florida

JACKIE LUMBATIS and SCOTT LUDWIG

 

As I drove up and down and around the hills to arrive in Carrollton, I felt a bit uneasy about agreeing to attend Jackie Ludwig's craft shop open-house. After all, the leaden sky was threatening to let down the most snow predicted so far in the month of December 2013. But then, a long and winding road of five months' time had brought  me there, so it seemed

cowardly to turn back now. And then a sweet young man Jim (boyfriend of Jackie's daughter Chrissy) met me and offered to park my car. Scott ambled out and greeted me, and as I entered the shop, Jackie handed me a cup of wine, and everything was going to be okay.


I warmed up in the shop awhile and found a million things I could have bought. And I am not much of a shopper. A wooden box of firewood sat next to the fireplace with teeny white lights highlighting knotholes and bark. The stockings were hung by the proverbial chimney with care, while a comfy chair stood nearby from whence one could snuggle and gaze at the sled and poinsettias and trees and the angels and owls that Jackie has made, decorated, and populated the place with. I finally latched onto what I wanted and held in my open palm the white-glittery circus elephant on a red wagon whose wheels were made of old wooden thread spools, the perfect gift for my husband's aunt who collects elephants.

 

By then, the crowd had dissipated, the shop emptied out, and Jackie invited me inside to get the rest of the backstory. Since we barely knew each other until September, and even then only on Facebook, there was oh, about 49 years of backstory to get straight. While she was closing up, Scott gave me his, reminding me what a ruffian he was. He told me that he was suspended once for three days for punching out a '67 classmates whose name is here redacted, but I will tell you, if I had known he had punched that guy--the meanest kid on my bus--I would have given Scott a medal!

Meanwhile, here is my backstory: in spring, I assigned myself the PHS '68 reunion task of finding classmates on our UTL (Unable to Locate List), and I took to the task like... (in Greg Lintner's depiction:) a bloodhound. I got sort of obsessed by the end and almost knocked at the door of a neighbor two blocks over to ask if he knew how we could find his ex-son-in-law. (I didn't, but there is still some regret there. We never were able to find him.)

Women tend to be the hardest. They get married and change their name and divorced and remarried and change their name. I mean really, girls. Decide who you are going to be and call us on the clue phone. But with Facebook, a lot of them are including their birth name along with their most recent married name. So when I went to look for "Jacqueline Lumbatis," I actually found a "Jacqueline Lumbatis Ludwig," I felt that thrill that P.I.'s must feel. (And I have noticed that she has since changed her page to "Jackie Ludwig," perhaps with regret that she didn't change it six months earlier.) I emailed her and said she was on our UTL list, but if she sent me an address, I would see that she got an invitation to the 45th reunion. She replied that that was okay, she got the invitation through Scott. Scott? Scott Ludwig! It was beginning to add up. It wouldn't be the first or last relationship to come out of PHS homerooms: in the great PHS '68 roll call, Ludwig is followed by Lumbatis.

So the first question I asked her was, "So did you and Scott get married right out of high school?"

She laughed. "Oh, no. A year or two after we graduated, he showed up in Florida, where I was living, and I thought, 'Oh, no. I am not interested.'" And then, eventually, she was. Or, as Lintner again so well puts it, "Scott won that battle."

Greg Lintner has since revealed that more than one guy was interested in Jackie, who was very elusive. I don't remember seeing her very often. She explained to me that while she was in high school, her parents lived half the year in the Perry District, half the year in the wilds of Florida, where she experienced a much more multi-cultural set of classmates, including Native Americans. And she didn't find Perry kids very friendly, of all the schools she had been in and out of. She noted that her academic life was difficult because she had to take the exact same courses at both the Florida and the Ohio school in order to have her transcript even out at the end of each year, not an easy task since she had to leave mid-semester each year. "I spent hours with the guidance counselor," she said. So perhaps it is no accident that the only encounter Jackie and I recall having together was my signing her in when I was working in the high school office.

She and Scott married, moved out into the country on 240 acres where they raised about 40 head of cattle and had two children, a son and a daughter. They ran a bowling alley together in Salineville all the while Scott worked at Smith Dairy. ("Yes," Jackie says, "I slept with the milkman.") And together they built the darling rustic house they live in today with several cats, who are the true owners of the place. All along Jackie has painted and crafted. She wrote two books on painting for a series titled Everything Under the Moon. In their airy, open front room, filled with windows where light pours in even on dark days, Jackie teaches painting classes. Now they are both retired.

Originally, this was to be a story only of Jackie, but it is impossible not to include her other half, so I asked Fred Saylor what he remembered of Scott. This was his memory:

Scott and I knew all the comedians on TV and radio, and we did their bits together in machine shop class. We didn't just discuss how the comedians spoke or talk about them, WE DID THEM: Bill Cosby, Richard Pryor, Tim Conway and Jonathan Winters and many others. Scott was very funny and he and I together had fun. We were still able to learn a bit during our metal shop class too. I liked Scott a lot and he had a Yamaha motorcycle. I had to get a bike. (motorcycle) ... other guys had them too. However my parents were not able to buy me a NEW bike. I ended up with a used German bike, a Zundapp. it even sounds funny doesn't it? I went to Scott's house the very minute I got that bike to show it to him. He was not home and soon thereafter i wrecked the bike almost killing myself...and I had so wanted to show that bike to Scotty.

All through September, I held out hope that Jackie and Scott could attend our 45th high school reunion, but they weren't able because they have long-standing reservations to stay in Key West in October-- the lure of that crazy island!

So as I drove away that December day, I wasn't sure if I would ever see Jackie again. For one thing, the BIG  snow storm I had to drive home through threatened to send my car right off into a ravine, where, I figured, I'd die of hypothermia. But I've been driving in winters on back country roads since my first teaching job in 1972 and then for twelve years in the ice of New England streets, so I finally reached home, most alive.

"My husband spoils me...don't get me wrong
I deserve it. But he is womderful.".

And since then, Jackie and I have stayed in touch on Facebook, and I have to admit that Jackie, Scott, and Greg make me laugh most days when I check in on them there. Jackie has uploaded a few photos of the wonderful breakfasts Scott cooks for her now that he is home weekdays (while Greg up in Cuyahoga Falls critiques them, based on their appearance) and this winter, Jackie posted a humorous account of painting a table this year. Previously, she had always just layered the table with another coat of paint, but this year, Scott insisted on disassembling it, painting each piece, then reassembling it, a production that took days while Jackie was preparing a big birthday dinner, hoping she'd have a table to serve it on. Scott is trustworthy as well as thorough, though, and the table was painted, dried, and reassembled on time.

And on March 1st, Scott and Jackie made it to Fred Saylor's big PHS Alumni Dance to raise money for PHS student scholarships. I wasn't able to make it as I hosted a birthday party that night. But somehow, somewhere, we are all going to get together again. You don't have to have been high school friends in high school to be friends now. For me, it's easier now. There aren't so many bells ringing, no tests, no Mr. Beatty, no clubs, no cliques, and everyone is cool.