Est. March 31, 2000 41,314 Previous Hits June 23, 2003 Editor:Tommy Towery http://www.leealumni.com Class of 1964 Page Hits This Issue e-mail ttowery@memphis.edu Barbara Wilkerson Donnelly , Joy Rubins Morris, Cherri Polly Massey, Paula Spencer Kephart, Rainer Klauss, Bobby Cochran, Collins (CE) Wynn Staff Photographers: Fred & Lynn Sanders Contributers: The Members of Lee High School Classes of 64-65-66 |
My parents were both born in Madison County, educated at Hazel Green High School--Daddy was Mother's basketball referee and the rest is history. He ran the Twickenham Barber Shop and she worked at Redstone Arsenal. In 1948 I entered the scene at the Huntsville Clinic and changed their lives. I went to elementary school at Lincoln, Jr. High at private school, and then good old Lee High School. At LHS I met my future husband, Dwight. We lived here from 1969 to 1977 and then moved to Decatur because he began working at GE. He was an accountant. He later moved to Steelcase in Athens for fourteen years. We continued to live in Decatur, which is the closest I ever came to living in Peyton Place. Everybody knew every time you --well, you all know what I mean. He and I thought it was the most pretentious little gossipy town we ever found. I had taught seven and a half years in Huntsville - good time teaching here at Davis Hills, Johnson High, and Mountain Gap. In Decatur, I taught at the notorious and infamous Brookhaven Middle for ten years more. It was in SW Decatur, but we always lived in SE because it was conducive to not doing extra yard work. Our older son graduated Decatur High and UAH; younger son went to private high school in Huntsville (if I had it to do over, he would've gone to public school.) He went on to UAH and then graduated magna-cum laude from UNA. He is now working on an MA in Journalism at the University of Missouri. Says cold weather is for the North Pole, not for him--will probably be glad to get back to the good old South. I had to quit teaching and go on disability for many health problems-- teaching in a school with no windows built over a landfill does wonders for the health of many people. It was a "SICK" building. Dwight was comptroller at Steelcase, but quit and began a tax business on his own. We had been back to Huntsville. only four years when he passed away. We still felt back "at home" during those four years. Dwight moved to Huntsville when he was about seven, had lived in Florence, and Jacksonville, Fl. He lived at Redstone Park, went to Farley, then to Rison, and then LHS, where his mom was lunchroom manager. His dad worked at Nasa and Teledyne Brown. Ten things I like about living in Huntsville: 1. Have family and friends here. 2. Both sides of my family are from area--am proud Echota Cherokee Indian on my Mother's side in this county. 3. Like to see Monte Sano and Huntsville Mountain in the distance. 4. Went to UNA and UAH for post grad work and are both nearby. 5. Like the technology orientation of the area--reading medical and scientific articles are my favorites. 6. Schools in Huntsville are basically good schools. 7. Like the traffic movement and conveniences. 8. Like to visit historic spots and think about what " it must have been like"--the Mountains, the Trail of Tears, the Virginia Mckormick house, and places close by. 9. Level of education in Huntsville is higher than other Alabama cities. 10. My children were born here, I was, my husband and Dad died here and are buried in Maple Hill Cemetery ( a good historical walk in early spring), my Mother still lives here and the time may come that she needs me. A GREAT PLACE TO LIVE!!! ______________________________________________ |
Well, it seems like Tommy is always setting new courses for us to follow. He certainly did so with his "Soda Jerk" story. After reading it, my own memories started coming back concerning some of my high school jobs. During most of our junior and all of our senior year at Lee I worked at Terry's Pizza on North Parkway as a Delivery Boy for the big time salary of $1.00 an hour (I don't believe there was any such thing as minimum wage at the time but I could be wrong. One of my pay stubs is pictured above). Terry's was located in a strip shopping center on east side of North Parkway across from Spry Funeral Home. Although now a thriving multi-location full service restaurant that has been a Huntsville fixture for over 40 years, the Terry's where I worked was the original little "Mom and Pop" business and the only pizza place (I think) in Huntsville. The place we had was about 20' wide and 60' long - just enough for a small kitchen, one large pizza oven, a counter, a few small tables, restrooms and a little storage space. I got the Delivery Boy job just by walking in and asking for it. The owners were a guy who worked for IBM and his wife who started the business as a sideline. Lou and Doris Pejha(?) were super people and very good to me during the year or so I worked for them. I understand that sometime later Lou left IBM and devoted his full time efforts to developing the business. When I was with them in 1964 we had a total of five employees (two cooks, two waitresses, and me). Since we were such a small business everybody did everything - cooks delivered and the delivery boy cooked; we all took orders and shared in the clean-up chores. Unlike now, at that time the business owned the delivery vehicles - we had an English Ford Anglia(?) and a VW Bus - I enjoyed being paid to run around all over north Huntville in someone else's vehicles using their gasoline. During the time I was with them Lou expanded the business to include the "bar" that is probably still there today just a few doors down from the start-up location - I remember giving the ceiling it's original black paint job and helping to build the bar. At the time we had to go outside to move from one area to the other because there was a small business between the two that would not sell out. It was a good job and environment for a teenage boy because I got to see many of my classmates who came by to pick up the carry-out pizzas. In fact, I first met Pat Grubis (whom I would later marry) in early 1963 over the counter there at Terry's. It was a pretty cool job and I doubled my salary from Gibson's Bar-B-Que where I previously worked plus we had a lot of fun. For instance, there was no one named "Terry" - it was completely ficticious - as I mentioned the owner's name was Lou. From time to time we would get calls asking to speak to "Terry"; rather than give the long winded explanation about how there was no such person, we all just took turns being "Terry" - life was a lot simpler that way. There was a good strong sense of teamwork which I came to appreciate very much and which served me well in later pursuits. ________________________________________ |
I am a beer connoisseur. I offer no defense. I enjoy brewing my own beer! Some people might ask "Why would you go to the trouble of brewing your own beer when you can buy a 6-pack for $5.00?" There are several reasons why but first let me tell you how I got started in the beer brewing. I was on strike at Boeing in November of 1995. I had the 12AM to 4AM picket duty with only one other guy. It was sleeting (we call it freezing rain out here in Puyallup, WA) and we were huddled under the tarp near the burn barrel. Making conversation with my co-worker, I causally mentioned that a small brewery in my neighborhood was having a stock offering. I could buy some stock in the brewery for $250 minimum. The other fellow suggested instead that I buy the fixings to brew my own beer. I had often thought that I would like to make some homemade beer and now I had the opportunity and the time to devote to it. When I headed off to boot camp March 18, 1968, my Dad learned to make wine. When I got out of the Navy, I made wine too for awhile. Making beer was illegal until 1979. So my first investment in the beer brewing hobby was a $150 novice brew kit. Santa brought me the kit for Christmas that year. The strike ended December 15, 1995. As luck would have it, the ingredient store offered brewing classes. I took a novice class at 7pm December 28, 1995 for $30. By January third of the next year, I had beer in progress. Eighteen months later I was taking a class again on "advanced all grain brewing." That one was $35 but money well spent. I've used that method since with only a few variations since. Mostly I've learned from the ingredient stores plus books from the library. Now to answer the question on why I brew my own beer: There are several good reasons to brew beer for yourself rather than buy what's available in the grocer's beer case. Most important is taste. With the "clone" brew recipe books available today, many of the most popular domestic or imported beers can be duplicated for much lower cost. And your brew is better than the original because it's months or years fresher. Also it is a great way to meet new people and remain active in the brew clubs. I find great pleasure in showing someone the tricks I've learned. The first Saturday of May and November several brew club members (clients of the store) bring their equipment to the store for "National Teach-A-Friend-To-Brew Day." We set up our equipment and show novice brewers the next steps and also potential inquisitive customers how easy it is to brew. To show some credentials, I bring my oldest beers to those occasions. 90 days is the shelf life of refrigerated homebrew. So to rotate my stocks, I bring the oldest ones along to share. It's still better than anything you can buy (I'm objective here...). I like sharing it. Sharing the beer with others is a big part of the fun of brewing. And I like tasting what others produce. I've shown about a dozen people how to brew. Few are still brewing. A lot of people find it is more labor intensive than it looked. It takes attention to detail. Those who find that too difficult make wine instead. Now for the fun part-how to make your own home made beer! I prefer bottling my brews. Many people prefer to keg their beer. I found that with a keg, when my glass got empty, I'd refill it losing track of my consumption. That caused the bad effects of too much consumption (foolishness and generally making an ass of myself.) With the bottles, I can keep better track of my consumption. With bottles, I can serve orsend some home. With the keg, everybody expects a continuous party at my house because there is no easy way to send them away with a 6 pack. Brewers have two choices to make their beer. They can use malt extract syrup or use malted grains and mash it themselves. The syrup is easy but it makes a lower quality beer. The beer brewed from malted grains is better. You can't tell by the taste if it was brewed or if I bought a nice imported brew. I use a five gallon water cooler to mash the grains in 150F water. The milled grains (the seeds are broken not milled to flour) are sealed inside soaking in 150F water for an hour. That converts the starches to sugars. Next the grains are slowly rinsed to recover all the sweet runoff. I collect seven gallons. The runoff is boiled for an hour or so over a propane cooker. That breaks down the sugars into less complex molecules that will ferment easier. Hops are added at planned intervals per the recipe. Some hops are bitter, some are more floral than bitter. Some are a combination. After an hour the seven gallons is reduced to about and one-half gallons to ferment. At the end of the boiling session, a copper tubing heat exchanger cools everything to a fermentable temperature of 75F. Yeast is added. A one- way valve is added to let CO2 escape and keep room air out. The brew ferments in a sterile glass carboy for a week. It is then siphoned into a second sterile carboy to complete the last of fermenting. It's important to get the beer away from sediments, which, over time can ruin the beer. Over seven days is close to too long on the sediment. The sediment is mostly spent yeast(aka "Brewer's Yeast). On the 14th day of fermentation it's ready to bottle or keg. One 3/4ths cup of corn sugar is made to syrup and is stirred into the bath. It is bottled and capped (or kegged)at once. The extra sugar ferments under the cap giving the beer "natural carbonation." Homebrew can be filtered then force charged in a keg. But in my opinion, that would be like twist top, filtered, force charged store bought beer. Why bother? Typically 14 days in the bottle leaves the beer ready to refrigerate and consume. Always pour the beer from the bottle to a glass or mug. I prefer a pilsner glass. If the last 1/8 inch of beer is left in the bottle, most of the vitamin packed sediment stays in the bottle, leaving the glass of beer clearer and more attractive. Some people are grossed out by cloudy beer. Except wheat beers which are supposed to be cloudy. Sterility must be maintained throughout the process. One small sterility mistake and you very likely will dump the beer. Wine is more forgiving of errors. But it has too much alcohol for me. I'm over my moderation with just a few ounces. And I prefer beer anyway. During the boiling process, the lid of the kettle is ajar. That allows steam to freely escape. That carries out the molecules that would have gone on to contribute to a hangover. This is among the best reasons for homebrew. There just IS no hangover with properly brewed homebrew. I currently have about $800 in equipment to brew. I knew I'd take the hobby very seriously when I produced my first batch. It's not overly expensive as hobbies go. But more satisfying than any other of my hobbies and diversions. In four hours time, my beer is brewed and my brew toys are cleaned and stowed ready for the next time. Most of the four hours is waiting and sipping a brew. Lifting the kettle is the only strenuous part. I've won ribbons the two consecutive years I've competed at the Western Washington State Fair. And it's fun to share the really extra nice brews with friends. I brought a 12-pack to the 2000 reunion and it was a hit with my pals. I brought two cases of a Michelob clone brew to a military reunion to share. The only thing better than free beer is free homebrew beer. It went quickly. There was none left over to take home. With all my medications, I'm supposed to avoid alcohol. Life is too short to go without a modest serving of beer every day. I'm retired now and if I can moderate my consumption, I think it's good for me. More than that is not good. _______________________________________ |
We Are Fami-LEE! |
Est. March 31, 2000 41,314 Previous Hits June 23, 2003 Editor:Tommy Towery http://www.leealumni.com Class of 1964 Page Hits This Issue e-mail ttowery@memphis.edu Barbara Wilkerson Donnelly , Joy Rubins Morris, Cherri Polly Massey, Paula Spencer Kephart, Rainer Klauss, Bobby Cochran, Collins (CE) Wynn Staff Photographers: Fred & Lynn Sanders Contributers: The Members of Lee High School Classes of 64-65-66 |
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In my haste to get out of town last week I acidentally started calling Pam Clark by the name of Pam Cash. Pam Clark was in our Class of '66 and Pam Cash is a person I work with at the University of Memphis, so I apologize for the error. This week is Beer and Pizza, we hope you enjoy the connections. Remember, everyone is invited to share their memories with us. You don' thave to be a staff writer. T. Tommy _____________________________________ |
How I Ended Up Still In Huntsville by Paula Spencer Kephart Class of '65 |
The Trivia Photo by Sarajane Steigerwald Tarter Class of '65 I knew the names of all the mystery picture classmates last week with the exception of one. I've been racking my brain to come up with that last name but unfortunately it's gone!! The LHS alums in that picture are: Standing: Craig Banneckee, Greg Dixon, ?? and Ernie McAlister. Sitting: Ronnie Ealy, Judy Scarborough, Nancy Milner, Linda McAdams, and Tommy Bush. I knew they went to Pulaski Pike but didn't know they were in the same class two years in a row. Judy always talks about being in school at Pulaski Pike for about a month and then getting out to pick cotton, although I don't think she ever really did pick any. _____________________________________________________ Linda McAdams Johnson Class of '65 Glad to see the Pulaski Pike group picture. Your recent articles have spelled out the bond many of the pre-Lee students share at Lincoln and Rison. As Craig Bannacke pointed out in the 2/3/02 edition there is a large contingency that share that same heart warming bond from Pulaski Pike School. How well I remember the Christmas play. My part was to play the Angel announcing the Baby Savior's birth. My Mom bought me a new Christmas red dress with puffy sleeves for the event. As soon as we arrived at school, we had to put on our white sheet costumes and wings so I did not get much of a chance to show I had a new dress. This is probably just as well. I do not recall any Angels depicted in a red dresses any where else. Mrs. Shepard's class was interesting. She had both classes (4th & 5th) together and I got to sit with my brother that was a class behind me. She was also the teacher that called my parents in for a 'meeting' to discuss the perils of me using my left hand to write. She felt there was a 'stigma' attached to those that used the 'wrong' hand and encouraged my Dad to make me change. This made him so mad. He told her that was one of the most ridiculous statements he had ever heard and until she could scientifically substantiate her theory, I would continue to be 'left handed'. Her comments stuck with me through most of school. I found it hard enough to be the tallest girl in my classes, plus being chubby. Her labeling me solidified my shyness. Then there was the Principal Mr. Murphy. The sixth grade class was his. This was the class I had mentioned before in an article about the girls putting on a summer time skit to the tune(s) of Polka dot bikini and Panama hat (you listed the correct names before). Of course, I was too pudgy to be 'out front' so I was the DJ spinning the tunes (embellishment for the one hiding behind the record player changing the records) I hesitated responding to name the people in the Trivia picture. I can name all but one person. I remember being in classes with him throughout my Pulaski and Lee school days, but I have drawn a complete blank on his name. It is not that I slight any remembrance of him. All the faces of Pulaski Pike are indelibly etched on my memory. It was a small school and everyone knew everybody. The majority were new to the State of Alabama which I think made the bond stronger. We all were considered 'Yankees', even though Everett was the only one publicly labeled with the nick name. The gentleman I refer to is on the left first row. If someone could please jog my memory. The rest of the first row is Judy Scarbrough, Anna Lee Milburn, me and Tommy Bush. Back row is Craig, Greg Dixon, my brother Tom McAdams (should have been Class of 66 but in last semester ended up in 67) and last but definitely not least Ernie McAllister. I have buried two husbands and my 8 year old daughter (air accident and Cancer) so my brother is always my designated escort.Tom and my youngest brother Fred, Class of 68, all share so many friends and memories from Pulaski Pike and Lee High School. Again, thanks for including the 'Proud to be Pulaski Pike' group in your recent edition. _____________________________________________ |
Additional Pre-Lee Mysteries A Second Chance! Now I know some of you can identify these classmates, so I am going to leave them in another week. How about names, grades, and schools this week? If you don't know them all, then send us your guesses at least. These are photos from two different Pre-Lee schools. Look at that sinister grin on his face and you will know this fellow. As for her, I don't think her hair has been that blond or that short for many years, but she still has that cute smile. __________________________________________ |
The Flora-Bama And Other Roadhouses by Craig and Jennifer White Bannecke Class of '65/'66 This is written in reference to your question about who has been to the Flora-Bama ? Though I have never been there Jennifer and I gave a lot of thought to driving over to the Flora-Bama when we were on our honeymoon. We were married in September 2001 and had decided of all the places in the world we could go that Panama City Beach would be a great place. Jennifer's first choice was Hawaii and my first choice was Spain but since we decided we probably ought to be together on our honeymoon and 911 had just occurred a few weeks before our wedding, maybe Panama City Beach would be a great compromise. It was then while exploring locations, I discovered the Flora- Bama. Sounded like the kind of place that had a lot of "Atmosphere". When in college at the University of North Alabama (Florence State) I had the opportunity to attend a number of places that had "Atmosphere" like the Flora-Bama. The city of Florence was dry back then and maybe today I'm not sure. However, for a young college student wanting to wet his whistle after long arduous hours of studying and attending class, the closest facility with "Atmosphere" was across the Alabama state line in southwest Tennessee. Now folks who were headed in this direction, the Lehman Williams, the Cleve Smiths, the David Phillips, the David Mullins, the Craig Bannecke's of this world and other distinguished LHS Alumni whistle wetters, had no other purpose for heading in this direction as the road really led to no other discernable destination. The state of Alabama willingly paved the road toward the state line but apparently the state of Tennessee saw no reason! able need to spend good road paving money on this part of the state so there was always a disconnecting loud thump when you hit the Tenna-Bama state line as the paved road gave way to gravel. Once you crossed the line and had traveled an approximate dusty distance of 100 yards, you ran into a string of cinder block buildings lit up with neon Beer Signs that were full of "Atmosphere" and just waiting to have a country song written about them. Neon Rainbow comes to mind. Now this could go on but my purpose for mentioning all this was to give the background as to my interest in driving over to visit and observe the Flora-Bama while on our honeymoon. Sounded like the kind of place that could bring back vivid college memories. However, the distance was a bit farther than I had expected and Jennifer and I had other things to catch up on. Suffice to say, looking back, a regrettable decision and a goal we hope to one day attain by visiting the Flora-Bama before the next hurricane scatters it's assembled parts. However, not to be totally denied, the purpose of my attached photo's and this comment is to inform you Mr. Towery and our classmates that Jennifer and I have our own Flora- Bama. Its called the Wind Rose Cafe and is located at Tybee Beach just down the (paved) road from Savannah, Jawjah. It has atmosphere", though as you can see by the recently deposed Jawjah State Flag, it is not ...involved....in political corretness. It has resident bar stool occupants very much like the Flora-Bama I'm sure, that appear to rent their stool for the season....as they always seem to be there, their clothes never change and they never go away. The photo of Jennifer and me seated at the table is kind of our spot. The Wind Rose serves some of the best fried clams and flounder that I've ever had. Just don't look in the kitchen. Four dollars will get you a clam or flounder basket with fries and cole slaw. WE never sit at the bar (too dangerous) but sit at our table munching on clams and taking in the "Atmosphere and Sights" of our version of one of the Last Great Roadhouses. _______________________________________ |
I Was The Pizza Man by Collins (CE) Wynn Class of '64 |
My All Time Favorite "Dive" by Tommy Towery Class of '64 |
Those classmates who know me very well know something about me that those who don't know me well would not believe. I don't drink. I still have fun, and maybe one or two glasses of wine a year, but that's about it. However, as I say I still have fun, especially at the reunions. Now not being a drinker doesn't mean that I don't hang out with those who do, or at places known for entertaining drinkers. Since Craig and Jennifer have singled out one establishment which they like the best, I want to take this opportunity to tell you about my favorite juke joint, bar, dive, roadhouse, or whatever you want to call it, in the world. Those of you classmates who were ever in the military and stationed at some little remote island in the Pacific can better relate to this story than those who were never privledged to serve their country in that manner. First a little background on how I found it. In February of 1972, there was an operation called Bullet Shot that sent 8,000 United States Air Force personnel to Guam in about a two-week period. There were so many of us that hit the island at the same time that there was no where to put us all. They cleaned out World War II quonset huts, brought in trailers, set up tent cities, and rented as many hotel rooms as they could to house the onslaught of officers and enlisted men. I know because I lived in all of those places at one time or another during my deployment there. The majority of time I was on Guam during that first visit, I was housed in a contract hotel room with three other officers. It was at a place called Tumon Bay and miles away from the base and the activities there like movies and the clubs that kept us occupied. I had to ride the USAF bus for thirty minutes to and from the base every day. Right across the street from the hotel was the little dive pictured above. It was named the "Happy Landing Store", and was run by a Guamanian and his family - wife, sons, and daughters all worked there. It primarily sold beer and had a juke box in one room that had about a half-dozen small tables with chairs. Even the youngest would work the counters and sell beers. The cliental of the place was migrant Philippine workers, and Japanese tourists. There were only three or four of us Americans that hung out there. There was no air conditioning and no screens on the doors. A single 100-watt light bulb hanging from the ceiling was the normal lighting. I think the floor was tiled, but it was never light enough to really tell. One of the features of the jukebox was that it had 8mm movies on it, and for a quarter you could listen to songs and watch xxx rated porno movies that may or may not kept time with the beat of the song. I remember especially one raunchy movie that accompanied "I Think I Love You" by The Partridge Family, and the people in the movie tried as many ways as they could to show their love in the two plus minutes the song lasted. I always thought it was strange that the owner never seemed to mind that his four and five and ten year old sons were exposed to the movies. However, my key draw to the Happy Landing Store was that it had the kind of pinball machines that I grew up playing in the VFW club in Huntsville. I know Bob Walker knows the kind I am talking about. They were the ones with 25 holes on the playing field and you shot five balls and tried to get the ball to land in the right holes so that you would get three, four, or five to line up and light up the lights on the back lighted screen. (See photo below!) It cost a nickel to play a basic game, but the more nickels you put in, the better the odds became and the more games you could win for lining up the balls. They call these pinball machines "bingo machines" normally. Also you could get extra features like moving the balls around and for enough money you could get up to three extra balls. Your number of games was kept on an odometer like counter on the backboard. Now once you got a real high score, you could cash them in for money, so it was really a gambling device in all-practical terms. I used to go over there and buy Cokes and play the machines for hours. I rarely won enough to cash in, but I could usually keep myself in the game for many hours on a couple of dollars, and that was great entertainment for the money and helped a non-drinker pass the time. However, if it had not been for the Happy Landing Store, the six months that I spent alone in Guam would have driven me crazy. Whenever I got sad or lonely, I would head there and get a couple of dollars worth of nickels and kill hours of loneliness playing pinball and listening to "I Think I Love You" in the background. |
East Clinton Mystery Classmate Identified Tommy, A fax copy of your newsletter came to me through JR Brooks and my brother Jim. I am excited to be able to contact you again after all these years. I'm back in Huntsville now. My wife Margaret and I have been here about ten years or so. It's nice to be here. If you still have not identified your "mystery girl" shown in your 6/8/03 edition, I think I can help. I believe her to be Jo Vassar. She graduated from Huntsville High in 1964. I'm about 95% sure that I 'm correct. Best close and get to work. Best regards to you and your family. God bless you all, Bob Davis Huntsville High Class of '64 (Former East Clinton Classmate) ________________________________________ |
Print and use...these are real coupons for pizza savings. |
The Passing of Pamela Clark Howell's Father Max H. Clark July 31, 1920 June 7, 2003 Max Harry Clark, 82, of Huntsville died Saturday. Mr. Clark was born in Camp Hill. He was retired from Marshall Space Flight Center. During World War II, he served in the United States Army and during the Korean War the U.S. Air Force. His parents, George Augustus Clark and Helen Johnson Clark; brothers, Jim Frank Clark and Robert Dan Clark, preceded him in death. He is survived by his wife of 57 years, Beryl Clark; daughters, Pamela Clark Howell (Class of '66) and her husband, John of Decatur and Jacqueline Clark Walker and her husband, Carey of Huntsville; son, John Preston Clark of Birmingham; five grandchildren, Kim Dickens, Jamie Walker, Catherine Walker, Alex Clark, and Sarah Clark. Graveside service was held at Maple Hill Cemetery Monday, June 9 with the Rev. Richmond Webster of St. John's Episcopal Church of Decatur officiating and Laughlin Funeral Home directing. Memorial donations may be made to Hospice Family Care, 2225 Drake Avenue, Huntsville, AL 35805 or the the Parkinson's Disease Support Group, care of Paul Shaw (President), 1014 Coronado Avenue, Huntsville, AL 35802. Published in The Huntsville Times from 6/9/2003 - 6/12/2003. _____________________________________ |
From Our Mailbox Eddie Burton Class of '66 (For Eddie Sykes) I enjoyed your article in this week's Traveller. I'm from the Class of '66 also and went out for football in the 8th grade but I didn't have what it takes to make the team. I remember doing drills on that side lot at Lee (most of which was red dirt and very little grass) and it was so hot I don't know how any of you guys stuck it out. My hat's off to you. My question is, do you remember a young quarterback on that team or maybe he was on the '62 team. His first name was Gary and he moved away before graduation. He and I became friends and we played on a church league basketball team together. He had a great arm. He used to throw me these long passes and at a dead run, they just floated in to my arms. I lost track of him and often wondered if he ever did anything with his talent for football. If any of this jogs your memory I'd appreciate a note back about it. Go Generals!! _____________________________________________ |
