Est. March 31, 2000 34,546 Previous Hits February 10, 2002 Editor:Tommy Towery http://www.leealumni.com Class of 1964 Page Hits This Issue e-mail ttowery@memphis.edu Staff Writers : Barbara Wilkerson Donnelly , Joy Rubins Morris, Cherri Polly Massey, Paula Spencer Kephart, Rainer Klauss, Bobby Cochran Staff Photographers: Fred & Lynn Sanders Contributers: The Members of Lee High School Classes of 64-65-66 |
We Are FamiLEE! |
Est. March 31, 2000 34,546 Previous Hits February 10, 2002 Editor:Tommy Towery http://www.leealumni.com Class of 1964 Page Hits This Issue e-mail ttowery@memphis.edu Staff Writers : Barbara Wilkerson Donnelly , Joy Rubins Morris, Cherri Polly Massey, Paula Spencer Kephart, Rainer Klauss, Bobby Cochran Staff Photographers: Fred & Lynn Sanders Contributers: The Members of Lee High School Classes of 64-65-66 |
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The Second Time Around: A Love Story by Rainer Klauss Class of '64 If you open up your 1965 Silver Sabre to page 88, you'll see a beautiful, young woman: Gudrun Wagner, the winner of the DAR Good Citizenship Award. The photographer (Ernest McMeans, I believe) captured her loveliness perfectly. It is a glowing, stylish portrait. I fell in love with Gudrun that year. It took me eleven years to reach that glorious state, and it would be another seventeen years before we would become man and wife. This story starts in 1954. Huntsville was already launched into the first stages of its phenomenal growth (a population of 16,000 in 1950 and 48,000 by 1956). I was soon to play a minor role in that process of expansion. After lengthy negotiations between my father, the East Clinton principal, my teacher, and pedagogical experts from Berlin, Montgomery and the University of Alabama, it had been decided in March that my academic career wouldn't be severely damaged if I got out early to accompany my father and my aunt on a trip to New York City. Lucky me, I was going to be able to skip the last three weeks of school. Perhaps the courtly and serious manner with which I had helped weave the spring fertility symbol, the Maypole, helped my cause. "Aww, that boy's alright; let's let 'im go on up to New York City." Tante Rena (Aunt Irene) had come over from Germany in 1953, and we were taking her to New York for her boat trip back. She had helped watch over me when I was a baby in Germany, sharing our quarters in Landshut, Bavaria (See December 30 issue of Traveller). In Huntsville, we had entertained the family many times with our rendition of " How Much Is that Doggie In the Window?" (or "How much is zat doggie in ze vindow?). I was sad to see her go, but certainly looking forward to a great adventure. As a youngster from the sticks, I fell easily under the sway of New York. We lunched at an Automat, one of those Art Deco food palaces with the fascinating chrome-and-glass walls of vending machines. Slide a nickel (or nickels) into the slot, twist the knob, and pull out a tasty bowl of mashed potatoes and gravy or a piece of pie. A wonderful treat for all the senses. One evening we dined at a cafeteria, the first one I'd ever been to. The lighting was subdued; it was a mysterious, swanky place. The amount and variety of food astounded me. That looks scrumptious; what could it possibly be? May I have three desserts? Another fabulous attraction was the TV in our hotel room, something that didn't appear in your living room until '55 or '56. I think I remember seeing Tom Corbett: Space Cadet one New York afternoon. After we waved goodbye to Tante Rena, the second part of our mission to New York began. We were bringing two new German immigrants back to Huntsville: Gudrun and her mother. Mr. Wagner had worked at Peenemuende, the German missile development site, during the war, but had not been one of those offered a job in the US in 1945. Recruiting efforts in Germany by the Army continued in the early 50s, and Mr. Wagner was contacted about a job in 1952. He leaped at the opportunity and came to Huntsville in 1953. When he heard about our trip to New York and realized that the timing was perfect for us to ferry his family down to him, he asked my father to help him out. He was glad to do so. I would love to be able to heighten the romance of this story by reporting in detail on the exact moment that Gudrun and I met for the first time: what she was wearing, what I thought of her, what music was playing, etc. Unfortunately, neither one of us was blessed with the ability to realize the hidden significance of the occasion, and we can't recall a thing. Indeed, how could any of us know this was the start of a long and remarkable relationship? We probably all met for the first time just before we headed back to Dixie. The Wagner's ship arrived a day or two after my aunt departed, and they checked into the hotel where we were staying. Our parents made contact and discussed departure plans. Maybe we went to their hotel room to help with the check-out procedures and luggage. Our parents introduced themselves. I shook hands with Mrs. Wagner, and my father greeted Gudrun. The rest is unknown. Actually, Gudrun has a good reason for not remembering our meeting. She was feeling miserable, having spent much of her trip to America in the ship's hospital, hooked to an IV, seasick to the max. As we journeyed to Huntsville, Gudrun's ordeal continued. The seasickness was replaced by carsickness. Hell on wheels, poor baby. She sat or lay in the backseat, tended by her mother. I had shotgun, a big pile of comics by my side. My father drove homeward with dispatch, but took the time for a quick tour through Washington to give the ladies an official welcome in their new country. There's a family joke that we left one of Gudrun's barf bags in front of the White House. Gudrun and I were often together over the next seven years. Helped along by the original act of assistance, the families became friends. In 1956 Gudrun and I started taking accordion lessons, our parents alternating the driving chores. After four years of lessons, we really began making (ahem) beautiful music together when our teacher, after bringing in another fellow (a German, of course), created a trio. For a brief period of time, we serenaded various Huntsville groups (garden clubs, the Rotarians, the DAR?) with our spirited version of "The Happy Wanderer." We were also thrown together when carpooling to confirmation lessons at St. Marks Lutheran Church. Summer Saturdays and Sundays often found the families together on the Tennessee River or Lake Guntersville. The Wagners had bought a boat, and we were invited along to water-ski or just cruise the river. The curious thing about those years of semi-enforced togetherness is that Gudrun and I rarely ever talked to each other. It's not unusual for boys and girls to ignore each other at those ages, of course, but our parents noticed this behavior and teased us. I gave Gudrun a photo album for one of her birthdays, and my father inscribed the front of it with a few bars of musical notation and "From Your Silent Partner." By 1961 it was clear that neither one of us was going to become a professional accordionist, and the lessons came to an end. By then, they had been the only thing connecting us, really. We were each going our own way in the consuming world of high school. I joined the band, walked the halls with my sweetheart, Linda Sewell, and prepared myself to be a chemical engineer. Gudrun grew more lovely, aced all her courses, and won the favor of many, including the DAR. Fresh from a disastrous year at Auburn trying to become a chemical engineer, I went to Gudrun's graduation party in June of 1965. She was wearing a beautiful lilac summer dress. Hellooo, Gudrun! Where had this gorgeous woman been all my life? I swear I heard Tony Bennett singing "Take my hand, I'm a stranger in Paradise" somewhere. I called the next day to arrange a date. In the ensuing weeks we talked and talked, we spent evenings at the Whitesburg and Woody's, we ate pizza at Pasquale's, we played putt-putt. The silent partners had embarked upon a romance. Over the next two years, we "went" together while I was at Auburn and Gudrun was at UAH. During the middle of that period, I even transferred to UAH so that I could be near her. But living at home again was un-satisfactory, and I returned to Auburn. In 1967 Gudrun met a fellow at UAH and fell in love. They married in June of 1968. I went to the wedding. We got on with our lives. In my case, Uncle Same asked for my assistance, and I was drafted in late October. Gudrun graduated from UAH and went on to teach math at Lee. I was sent to Germany, and Gudrun and her husband moved to Atlanta. There was contact between us in those years, but it was short and sporadic. I went back to graduate school in English at Auburn in 1971. In the summer of 1974, just as I was abandoning the scholarly life, I heard that Gudrun's marriage had ended. I can't recall getting in touch with her, and soon I was wrapped-up in the demands of my own life as a travelling speed-reading teacher. I was on the road for two years (Virginia, Texas, Illinois, Mississippi, Alabama), and then I moved to Atlanta in 1976. I got a job at one of the Emory libraries. Gudrun and I saw each other a few times in the next couple of years, but nothing came of those meetings. We were both involved with other people. Finally, free again, I gave her another call in 1979, and when we met this time there was the glimmer of a chance that a continuing relationship seemed possible. "Love is lovelier the second time around," the old song has it. That's true, but there was also a lot more work and heartache involved with that second blossoming of love than you'd think for people who had known each other for twenty-five years. The next two years were full of passion, doubts, mistakes, and then a growing happiness with each other as we made our way to a deep commitment. We married early in 1982 and Lucas, our son, arrived late that year. Next year Gudrun and I celebrate fifty years of friendship, a golden anniversary of sorts. I was just thinkingif this Lee scholarship thing doesn't work out, do you think we could have the money that's pledged to go to New York and start this all over again? _________________________________________ |
This week we celebrate Valentine's Day, and what better way to celebrate than to remember some special people and things of our past. Thanks to Rainer, we have a wonderful love story. Cherri Polly Massey sent us scans of the Key Club's 1966 Sweetheart Pageant program, and thanks to Jennifer White Bannecke we have a photo of the lovely ladies of the 1965 Pageant for Jim Bannister and the rest of the guys to look at and remember. Since Sue and I just made it back from our second anniversary vacation, I'll keep my comments short this week. Happy Valentines Day to all you Generals...don't waste it...tell someone you love them. T. Tommy _____________________________________ |
Put You Heart Into This! Send Us Your Sweetheart Memories |
Tuesday March 30, 1965 Lee High beauties adorn school gym More than 100 of Lee High School's most glamorous young ladies waited nervously last Friday night while judges picked Miss Lee High School and her court of six girls from their number. Miss Linda meeler was finally picked as Sweetheart by Local businessman late that night. This was the first of what Lee students think will become a long series of Beauty Pagaents and lovely Sweethearts. The event was sponsored by the Key Club of Lee High School. _____________________________________________________________________________________________________ |
From Our Mailbox Subject: Football Team ID Hey, Tommy! Here's who I think those young fellows are: Larry Lewis (15); Taylor Wright (20), my mother-in-law's very helpful neighbor; Terry Lee (21); the inestimable Skip Cook (8); Larry Bush (11); Phil Stewart (1); Lynn Baeder (5); Craig Bannecke (6), who probably supplied this picture; Jim Harris (7). The only other answer I'll hazard is where the game was played. Goldsmith-Schiffman Field? Rainer Klauss Class of '64 ___________________________________________ Subject: Name Those Players With the printing of the Lakewood 105 lb YMCA team photo, it leads me to believe that Craig Bannecke must save as much stuff as Tommy. Following are my best guesses from a faded mind: Coaches: T. J. Bell, and Jim Harris' father 1. Phil Stewart 2. Unkown 3. Ray Orton 4. David Walker 5. Unkown 6. Craig Bannecke- a vicious player who went both ways. 7. Jim Harris 8. Skip Cook 9. Harold Tubbs 10. Mike Leinbaugh 11. Tommy Bush - LHS 12. One of the May Twins 13. The Other May Twin - I couldn't tell them apart then and still can't tell them apart (Tom and Jim?) 14. Unknown 15. Larry Lewis - LHS 16. Larry Snead - LHS (Doug Snead's brother, '64) 17. Unknown 18. Unknown 19. Arnie Young 20. Taylor Wright 21. Terry Lee - LHS 22. Charles Yankowski 28. _____ Cribbs The "City Championship" game was played on Thanksgiving Day, at Goldsmith-Schifman (?) Field, and called the Turkey Bowl (of course). Skip Cook Class of '64 __________________________________________ Subject: To the editor Tommy, you are amazing. You need to write another book. Sands from the hourglass, so go the days of our lives --- really does fit, even though words do come from a soap opera. Vacation? What is that? Linda Beal Walker Class of '64 _________________________________________________ Those of us who had the privilege of attending LHS when we did were blessed in many ways. One was the beginning of the space program. Some of us who were born here marvel at the ways Huntsville has bloomed. I remember when there was no place to shop except downtown. I also remember the Von Braun team and their families. Because these wonderful explorers just happened to be brought here, our school benefited greatly. Many of their children also attended and the school and its curriculum had a program geared for those who wanted to attend college. We had some of the better teachers, classes, and equipment from which we gained what we relied upon in college. The Columbia accident is heavy on everyone's heart, and especially, the ones of us who saw the program come about. My father-in-law, my son, and many friends and relatives were directly involved with NASA. This has really affected me to look up for guidance and reassurance that these great explorers truly know the face of God. I hope I can sustain the feelings this disaster and my own personal one will keep my life focused on the living and doing what I can to help them. We all seem to have our family from LHS on our minds, too, and that is very important to us. May we all remember where we were and what we have seen. I feel blessed to be part of this family, too. Thanks for listening to my feelings and God bless you all. Paula Spencer Kephart Class of .'65 ______________________________________________ You are doing a great job. Andrea Gray Roberson Class of '66 _________________________________________________ Subject: First time ever to see this site. Greetings. I went to Highland Elementary and then on to Davis Hills before being transferred away from Huntsville (my Dad helped open up a new Sears store somewhere around Memorial Drive as I recollect). That was in the early 1960's. I swear on that trivia picture that I recognize two guys in the front of a couple of my fellow school mates but this is probably dementia setting in. To give it a stab I say player #3 is Kim Black, and player #4 is Gerald Rivers. This should be about 1965 or 66? Just a stab in the dark. Vicki Tyson Dudai Augusta GA. _________________________________________________ Subject: Pre-Lee Memories All of these memories shared by my high school classmates bring back my own memories of pre-Lee days. I lived in the Alabama City section of Gadsden, AL, this was the mill village for Cone Cotton Mill. The descriptions of the rough & tough kids was exactly the way it was at Dwight Elementary School. In the second grade I was sweet on Linda Gail Jackson but she moved away. Then eight years later we would attend Lee together. The world was already getting smaller. With all the flap about Lee High School and it's former symbols, I think back to my days at General Nathan Bedford Forrest jr High. For those who do not know, not only was General Forrest a great Confederate cavalry general but he also founded the KKK. Do you think that this might be a political correctness problem? The stories of the old Lincoln & Dallas mill villages run parallel to my early days but a lot of us "Lintheads" were able to go on to much success and better things in our lives. Jim Bannister Class of '66 _____________________________________________________ Subject: Lists/email Tommy, Thanks for advising me of the web address for our alumni. Good work you have done putting this site together. Brings back many memories. I graduated from Lee in 1965. My e-mail address is icucme@cox.net When will be viewing the mailing list be available? PS- I was (until now) one of the lost souls on your "missing" list. Daniel Hurt Class of '65 __________________________________________________ |
Third Row (left to right) #15 Larry Lewis LE #16 Larry Snead T #17 Tommy Stinnett C #18 Dan Barner FB #19 Arnie Young FB #20 Taylor Wright G #21 Terry Lee G #22 Charles Yanklowsky T #28 Ronnie Cribbs RE Coaches T.J. Bell George Harris (Jim's father) |
The Real Answer First Row (left to right) #1 Phil Stewart QB #2 Rayford Byrom QB #3 Ray Wharton WB #4 David Walker TB #5 Lynn Baeder FB #6 Craig Bannecke RE #7 Jim Harris LE Second Row (left to right) #8 Skip Cook G #9 Harold Tubbs G #10 Mike Leinbaugh T #11 Tommy Bush TB #12 Tom May C #13 Jim May C #14 Mike Lowery WB |
Subject: Last Week's Myster Classmate The mystery in the picture is Rick Edmonds. He never got over that bump on the head (nor did his hair), which made his transition from teenager to senility much smoother than it would have been for anyone else. He and his wife Carole now live on the Happy Cow Farm in Tennessee. I don't know where what makes the cow happy and don't want to. It probably relates to the bump on the head. As far as I know, Rick was only safe from the world when protected by the derisive humor of Bob(by) Dornbos and myself. When the world was ever safe from Rick was never determined. Rick was at his best when he was being himself. Which is not to say he couldn't be anyone else at the drop of a hat. He once put an Alka-Seltzer in his mouth ("I can't believe I ate the whole thing") and fell to the ground foaming at the mouth and feigning a fit. Bobby immediately tried to shove his hand down Rick's mouth while telling the crowd, "It's okay, he's done this before. He'll be alright, we just have to keep him from biting his tongue." It was more than a reasonable person could be expected to do, just to not bite their own. Rick spent a hitch in the Navy where he learned to tell time ("Let's see, if it's 3:45 am on the Guam, it must be about 9:07pm where you guys are ..."). Rick was the inspiration for the Rocky Horror song, Time Warp. Rick will probably want to thank me for saying these kind words about him, but I'm much too modest to let him. Gary Darby "Hail Macbeth! Hail yes." _____________________________________________ |
