Est. March 31, 2000                36,803 Previous Hits                            March 17, 2003

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
From Our Mailbox

Subject:         Cher and Jumping the fence

Tommy:  I don't remember the comment that Huntsville should not have booked Cher.  But, obviously, I did not know what I was talking about.  Cher will be in Huntsville Tuesday, March 11 and Kakki and I are going.  In fact, I even paid for the good seats.  I understand they expect a very good turnout. Luckily, the booking people at the Von Braun Center know much more than I do about what Huntsville will support.  Thanks again for all you and the contributors do with these weekly editions of the Traveller.

I did marry and am still married to Kakki Jordan who graduated from Huntsville High School in 1965.  I did not know her in high school. We met in Tuscaloosa in 1969.  She attended East Clinton and her picture should be in the class behind the one whose pictures are in this week's edition.
(J.R. added the day after the concert - By the way, Cher was great and the arena was full.)

J.R. Brooks
Class of '64
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I enjoyed your article about the Cher concert and I'm glad you got a good deal on the tickets. You make a persuasive case, but I'm still not going. I've never been a fan of her music--don't like her voice at all. Costume spectacles don't do anything for me either. However, I'm not a complete fuddy-duddy: I am a fan of her movies--loved her in Moonstruck.
This picture identification came to me in the middle of the night: I think that Kenny is Kenny Cooley. Does that ring a bell with you, Tommy?

Rainer Klauss
Class of '64





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In this weeks web page (10-14 March) Rainer was trying to remember the name of a fellow member of St Marks Lutheran Church that we grew up with.  His name was Ken Cooley.  Ken went to Huntsville High and later he and I  went to Florence State together. As I recall his father was superintendent of Sunday School at St. Marks.  My mother was the Church secretary for a number of years and worked with Mr. Cooley.  Rainer, Ken as well as myself, Jim Harris, Sara Jane, Sarah and Sandra Shift, Beth McNabb, Goodrun and a number of other Lee High Alum went through two years catechism together at St. Marks.
Those were wonderful days.  We had some of the best Church picnics I've ever been to in my life. Not to mention probably the only church picnic I've ever been to where they had beer.  Those Germans loved their beer and brought great German food to the picnic.

Craig Bannecke
Class of '65
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Tommy: just read the article on the Cher concert! I was very interested as I have tickets ($65.00) for her performance here in Charleston, SC. It has been many years since I have been to a concert, but when I saw the ad, I couldn't ignore it! I had to get tickets. Her show here is April 23rd and I can't wait!  I will probably be one of those people dressed in a crazy outfit, it just seems fitting to be outrageous at a CHER concert!!

Sally Dawley Stroud
Class of '65
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I saw that someone had made a reference to people that went to HHS during the time we were attending LHS.  One of the names mentioned was Patsy
Cockrell.  I worked for Patsy's dad when I was stationed at Redstone.  About six years ago I was attending a high school baseball game and noticed a woman, about my age that looked very familiar.  After the game I went up to her and asked if she was Patsy Cockrell.  She suddenly got that amazed and confused look, stating that "nobody had called me Patsy in 30 years".  We had a good visit.  She has a Ph.D. and was working with the state board of regents in Tallahassee.  It is a small world.

Skip Cook
Class of '64
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Subject:         Atlanta Mini Reunion

The 18 May date is the best time for Jennifer and I to attend Johns Atlanta reunion.
Thanks,

Craig  Bannecke
Class of '65
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Subject:         Atlanta Reunion

    Count me in for the Atlanta reunion.  John can get in touch with me if he needs help. It would be really fun since I haven't been able to make any of the mini ones in Huntsville. I know Darla Gentry Steinberg and Tom and Linda Provost are here in the Atlanta area. Two of the guys comprising the Duck Huntin' Team are Marion Humphrey and Jim Bannister but I  can't make out the others.  Maybe the short one is Danny Johnson.  Keep up the good work.

Randy Goodpasture
You know the (Sin, Sex, Booze, Kicks, we're the Class of '66) bunch
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Does anyone know the wherabouts of Bernadette Miller Hartman (Van Pelt I believe now)?
How about Debra Caldwell Minor (she left Lee to attend Huntsville High after 1961-1962 school year)?

Richard "Ricky" Simmons
Class of '64
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How did I end up in "FLUORESCENT," Missouri?  Actually, it's correctly spelled "Florissant," a French word meaning "Valley of Flowers."

I attended Auburn University after I graduated from Lee in 1964.  The Army decided they'd never need me when they found out I had a 3-inch long, 1/4-inch diameter bolt holding my left ankle together.  Perhaps some of you remember seeing me with a cast up to my thigh, hobbling around on crutches in the spring of 1963.  During Spring Practice,  I lost a blocking drill to Harold Tuck and David Mullins (NO surprise there!). 

I managed to get accepted to Auburn University, and enrolled in the fall of 1964.  I had lots of company from Lee:  Skip Cook, Rainer Klauss, Mike Jett, Jimmy Norman,  Alice Ann Brigman, and Doug Snead.  (DID I FORGET ANYONE?)

Earned a Bachelor's Degree in early December of 1969.  By then the "Space Program" in Huntsville had slowed down a lot.  I'd sent resumes to most of the  companies in town, but they weren't hiring at that time. 

Over the Christmas holiday I bumped into a former Lee classmate that some of you may remember, Lindsay Miller.  Lindsay lived at the end of Colice Road in Montdale, right at the base of Monte Sano.  At the end of (I believe) our Junior year at Lee the school board changed the boundaries, and Lindsay finished up at Huntsville High.

He had graduated from Auburn in the summer of 1969, and was working for McDonnell-Douglas Aircraft Corporation in St. Louis.  He told me that he had recently transferred positions, and that possibly his old job was still open. 

Lindsay called me in early January to tell me that the position was still open.  I contacted Southern Airways and booked a direct flight to St. Louis.  The one-way ticket cost $67.  I believe I had $30 on me when I got on the plane.

I contacted McDonnell and, with some guidance from Lindsay, arranged to get an interview, on a Thursday morning.  Lindsay had kindly put in a kind word for me with his former Manager, a fellow named Hank Brown.  Hank told me what the job involved, and said he thought I'd enjoy working there.  I agreed wholeheartedly!

Hank put me on a company bus back to the employment office.  They made me a formal offer, $4.13 an hour to start.  There was one condition - they wanted me to start work the next day.  I said "Sure, no problem!"  I went in to work the next day, and truly did put in a solid 8 hours.  But I never got paid for that day of work!  They put me "on the clock" the following Monday.  It wook me a while to realize "McDonnell" is a Scotch name; I guess they really ARE tight with a buck....

I worked at McDonnell for 3-1/2 years.  It was quite an exciting place at that time.  We sent an average of three F-4 Phantom jets out the door every day, and the new F-15 Eagle was just beginning production.  In addition, the U.S. Marines were considering the British Hawker-Siddeley Harrier as one of their support fighters.

I later took a sales job with Hewlett-Packard, selling electronic distance measuring equipment to Land Surveyors and Civil Engineers.  The job involved going out with surveying/engineering crews to their projects and demonstrating the equipment.  I think I'm the only former HP sales representative who was snakebit TWICE while working!  After a few years I managed to get into the group selling test equipment to the local and long distance telephone companies.

Florissant, Missouri is a northern suburb of St. Louis.  The Gateway Arch is located directly on the Mississippi River at the heart of the city of St. Louis.  If you picture the Gateway Arch as the center of a clock, Florissant would be at about 11 o'clock - and 20 miles north of the Arch.

St. Louis is an old town; it was established as a fur trading post by Pierre Laclede and his 16-year-old nephew Auguste Chouteau, in 1763.  Auguste Chouteau came back the next year and brought additional settlers with him.

Florissant is also a very old town; it was established about 15 years after St. Louis.  My wife Sandy and I live about 3 miles from the Missouri River, and we're surrounded by history.  Lewis and Clark passed very near where we live in 1803 and 1805 on their journey  of discovery.  Our house is in a subdivision built on what once was the vineyard of an old Jesuit Seminary.  The building is still standing, and it dates back to the 1830's.  The Catholic Church still owns the property, and they recently "relocated" the remains of about 40 priests who were buried near the old Seminary.  One of the priests was the famous Father DeSmet.

St. Louis is a city of well-defined neighborhoods.  One of the most famous is "The Hill," the Italian Neighborhood.  The family-owned Italian and Sicilian restaurants there are the main reason I seem to always need larger clothes....  I promised Tommy and Sue that I'd take them down to "Da Hill" when they come up this way, but I told them to wear loose clothes. 

Y'all come see us, hear?  I'd love to take you to a Cardinals game!!

TEN THINGS I MISS ABOUT HUNTSVILLE:

10.  Star Market (and my buddy, Wade Russell)
9.    Going to downtown Huntsville to shop, Grand Newsstand
8.    Taking a stroll down Clinton, McClung, or any of the other streets in the old part of town, looking at the beautiful old homes
7.    KWIK CHEK!
6.    Playing baseball at Optimist Park, Tennis with John Ridgeway, David Bess, and Lee Riggs at Big Spring Park
5.    3-scoop cones for 10 CENTS at Tom Dark's City Drugs, East Side Square
4.    My old house at 3209 Pulaski Pike - it's now some kind of a church or temple (NO KIDDING!)
3.    Going to the Madison County Fair at the old fairgrounds
2.    Gibson's BBQ & their Brunswick Stew
1.    Seeing my friends!  





_______________________________________________________
We Are FamiLEE!
Hits this issue!
Est. March 31, 2000                36,803 Previous Hits                            March 17, 2003

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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How I Ended Up
In
Florissant, Missouri
by Bobby Cochran
Class of '64

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My First Time
by Rainer Klauss
Class of '64

          I lost my virginity on February 20, 2003 and Woody Beck is to blame.  That battle-scarred Lincoln escapee (see January 20 issue of Traveller) took me up in his Cessna 170 and gave me my first light airplane ride. That may not be a big deal to a lot of people, but it's something I've wanted to do for a long time.  It's sort of a check-list thing, ladies.  Some guys want to fly-fish in the Rockies or hunt grizzly bears in Alaska, others long to go on a pilgrimage to every major-league baseball park in America. One of my minor mid-life quests was to fly in a single or twin-engine plane: Cessna, Piper, Beechcraft, whatever.  I've even gone so far as to try to talk my niece into dating an airline pilot to increase my chances of hitching a ride.  That romance didn't take off, and neither did I.

          The man who made my modest adventure possible is somebody I hardly even knew until late last year. Woody Beck is a professor at the University of Georgia, the former head of the sociology department, a fact which he modestly omitted from his "How I Got Here" story recently. He also runs the Avignon Study Abroad Program in France for UGA, something I'm sure he does with panache (and maybe with D'Artagnan, Athos, Porthos, and Aramis). My sources tell me that he's angling to become a jurist for the Cannes Film Festival. Rest assured that the investigative staff of this cyber-newspaper will bring you a full report and pictures. A topless Professeur Beck cavorting with starlets.  Mon Dieu! 

          The circumstances of our earliest acquaintance are murky to both of us, but it must have been 1961 that we spent time in what I remember as being the second semester of one of Sue Davis's math classes. I can't recall any of the girls in the class or what I learned, but for some reason I remember that several of the fellows in the class-Carl Darling, Mickey Sheretz, and David Mitchell didn't finish at Lee. Carl and Mickey lived on Monte Sano and transferred to Huntsville High; David dropped out.  Anyway, I doubt if Woody and I even talked to each other that year, and because we were separated by a grade we had no interaction in the following years, either.

          So, imagine Woody's surprise when I identified him as a Mystery Classmate last yearand in such a bizarre fashion. My Psychic Hotline routine mentioned things only he and I understood, and that approach must have piqued his interest, to say the least. Who is this strange fellow over there in Snellville, Georgia who writes of me with such familiarity? He sent me an email, and we bridged the gap of years with an exchange of correspondence.

          In one of his letters Woody mentioned that he owned a small plane and occasionally flew to Huntsville to visit his brother. I immediately let him know that I'd be thrilled to be a passenger sometime on a flight to the Moontown Airport, a small grass strip and aviation facility just outside town on Highway 72.

          A few weeks ago I notified Woody that I'd soon be coming to Athens to visit my son, Lucas, and would then like to stop by and get re-acquainted. Looking forward to it, he wrote back, and maybe we can go flying. Hot damn!

          The weather at the start of my vacation week was rainy and overcast, and the forecast wasn't very promising.  But as I drove to Athens, the clouds were thin and high. Maybe this would be the day after all.          

          Lucas and I lunched at a deli that he had written a feature on for the Red and Black, the campus newspaper. The owner of the place didn't show up until after I'd paid for the meal, so we didn't get the food comped like a good journalist should. It was a beautiful day. Everyone was enjoying the foretaste of spring. (The day before, however, the atmosphere had been quite different: a fake bomb scare had created fear and confusion on the campus.)  Lucas and I hung around for awhile, talking about his courses and checking out the chicks, and then he headed to class.

          I walked over to Woody's office. He teased me about my accordion-playing (I had told him earlier that accordionists do it with bellows), and we got off to a friendly, joking start. Then he asked the thrilling question: did I want to go flying? Well Hell yes!   He checked the weather conditions on the Internet, and then we drove out to the airport.

          Unfortunately, Woody's hangar is downwind of a working quarry, so as he pulled open the doors my first glimpse of his Cessna was un-impressive. To protect it from the invasive grit, Woody drapes the plane with a ragtag assortment of bedsheets and cloths. Strip off the Victoria's Secret Collection of Airplane Wear, however, and you can feast your eyes on a silver-blue jewel. An aircraft of simple lines and modest appointments, this bright, shiny beauty, built in 1952, has been kept in fine condition by Woody. He's won several awards at airshows with it.  It's what's called a tail-dragger, the tail wheel configuration harking back to the early days of aviation. The plane spent the first 20 years of its life in Texas, and the next 20 north of the border in Western Canada.

          As we taxied to our take-off, he explained what he was doing and educated me further about the plane and communications protocol.  I don't know whether he sensed I was nervous in spite of my eagerness and maturity, but his calm and open manner helped put me at ease. I felt like I was in very  good hands for this joyful adventure. And, just as importantly, I didn't feel like I was just along for the ride. Even though I was a hitch-hiker, Woody made me feel welcome in my curiosity. 
In a jetliner, you are thrust into the air in an overbearing fashion; you're at the mercy of overpowering forces. Under those conditions, the sensation of flying is, for the most part, muted and certainly mitigated by all the distractions of mass air transport. In part, of course, we're glad to forget how vulnerable and helpless we are up there. These days, we just want to get from point A to point B as soon and as painlessly as possible. Lord, please give me an aisle seat, decent food, and a safe flight. Amen.

          After receiving clearance from the tower, Woody pushed in the throttle, and we accelerated down the runway. The take-off and landing of a tail-dragger call for greater pilot finesse than other small planes, and Woody handled them like a master. (We actually did two take-offs and landings that day and Woody-adding to my education and pleasure- used slightly different techniques for each.)

          "Ain't nothing like the real thing, baby," Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell sang in our passionate youth, and how sweet it was to finally experience this real thing, friends. As we climbed aloft, I could feel very directly some of the forces at play-the wind, gravity, and the power and fragility of the plane. It was a blast. My heightened attention was divided between the scenery and the mystical performance before me: how Woody was piloting the plane.
 
          We gradually ascended to 3,000 feet and headed south towards Lake Oconee, gleaming in the sun 30 miles away. We were blessed with calm skies, so Woody trimmed the plane to fly straight and steady andGod bless himgave me the controls. He assured me that there was probably nothing I could do that he couldn't get us out of.  I need to admit here that I actually lost my aeronautical virginity years ago. I've flown all sorts of small planes all over the world since about 1990 on my computer. I've got Microsoft Flight Simulator captain's wings on my chest and service bars on my sleeve, OK? Did that help me very much at the moment of truth? Not really. Computer flight simulation isn't much like real flight. One is an inconsequential fantasy, a pleasant diversion in a comfortable chair; the other is a complex activity that can be wonderful but must be practiced with utter care.

          Friends, we were way up in the air, and I was "in charge." I wasn't scared, but I was nervousholding on to the yoke with both hands like that in itself would keep us aloft. Woody said something about driving a car, but I was so focused on the instruments, the plane, AND EVERYTHING ELSE UP THERE IN THE WILD STRATOSPHERE that I didn't really hear him. He did get me to relax a bit, though, and I threw caution to the winds and took one hand off the yoke.  Hey, we stayed up there! Emboldened, I experimented with banking the plane. Then Woody encouraged me to try a turn. That's a challenging maneuver calling for the use of the rudder petals (at your feet), the yoke, the steady application of power, and keeping the plane level. I understand it perfectly in theory, but my version of it was, understandably, beginner- like and tentative.

          By then, we were getting close to the ground, so Woody wrested the controls from me. Just kidding. Anyway, he flew northwest, passed over the city of Athens, and made a hot landing because there was a faster plane behind us crowding the landing pattern.  Woody had been having trouble with his communications gear all through the flight (he was coming in garbled to the tower).  He borrowed a headset from another pilot, and we took off again, so that he could try to isolate where the problem lay. More air-time!

I was ready to try a few Immelmann turns on that flight and wanted to buzz my house and wave to Gudrun, but Woody hogged the controls. Oh well.  Another stylish landing concluded the day's high adventures.
Even though I'm still in awe of the men and women who can fly planes, Woody, in several ways, brought the whole experience down to earth for me. It was a great pleasure and privilege, mon Capitaine.
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City Drug Co. on the East Side Square that Bobby refers to.
The mystery photo (last week) is Clark Steadman's, which was later the Cotton Club.

Glenn James
Class of '65

True: It was out on Jordan Lane.  Now the follow on question. Some of us went to Pre-Lee schools with Clark Steadman's two kids.  Who are they?
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Things you Can't Get -
Outside of Huntsville
by Gary Kinkle
Class of '64

Donald Blaise's story about Colorado falls under the category of "Things you Can't get, Outside of Huntsville".

My family and I lived in the Denver area 1970-81. We also encountered the "slaw dog scenario. It occurred at an A&W Root Beer drive-in restaurant. "We would like 2 slaw dogs". "What's a slaw dog?". After this went on for awhile, I asked them to put some grated cabbage in a container, and give me some packages of ketchup. They could not do this because the coleslaw was already made with mayonnaise.

A couple of years later, I was playing in a co-ed softball tournament in Denver, and we took a cooler of food and drinks. We had prepared quite a number of slaw-dogs, because the games were going to be going on all day. One of the female players saw me eating a slaw-dog, and said, "Yuck!!!!!! what is that?". I told her. After about 10 minutes she came back with another
player, and said "can we try one of those?". Needless to say, I realized that I had not prepared enough slaw- dogs when the word spread about this new type of hot-dog that Gary Kinkle had invented. We still laugh about that day.

I do not believe I have ever seen the Mullins style slaw- dog, anywhere but Huntsville, and I am not sure how many places in Huntsville even make them.

As for barbecue (Pork), that is definitely a Southern thing, and not all of the south makes it the same.

We went to a "barbecue" (Beef, western style) in a small country town around Ft Collins, Colorado. When I got to the serving table I noticed that the people cutting up the beef were removing the outer edge or the "black stuff". I told them they were cutting off the best part and asked to have some on my sandwich. A couple of people behind me in line said they would like to try some of that "black stuff " too. The second time that I went through the line, I noticed they were now offering the "black stuff" on the table beside the beef pile.

I ended up buying a charcoal water smoker, and have perfected the making of good southern style pork BBQ.

(Editor's Note: I remember the first time I ordered a Bar-B-Q in Texas. They brought out a slice of beef brisket on a bun with a big slice of onion and mustard and a pickle. As Gary's friends say... Yuck!!!!)
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Fred Sanders sent in the above photos of a Mystery Place that most of you who still live in Huntsville will know, but a place we'd like for you Huntsvillain Ex-Patriots (HEPs) to try to identify. Hint: It's not like it was in the 60's; even the name has changed.
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This week I got old. I hurt my back and am having to wear a back brace till it gets better and Sue's oldest daughter Beckye made her a grandmother, and therefore me a grandfather. She had a little girl in Des Moines, Iowa, and Sue flew up there Saturday to stay a week and help her out. Ah, the memories of that first week of being a parent - scary!

We start back to work at the University this week, after last week's spring break.  The students were out all week, but they only gave us staff Friday off. Alas, I could not make it to Florida again this year.

Lots of good stuff this week, we hope you all enjoy it.

T. Tommy
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1966 Lee High School
"Duck Hunting Team"
 
L-R: Donald Johnson (LHS '67), Danny Johnson, Marian Humphrey, Jim Bannister, (Not Pictured)  Bucky Hoffmeyer