|Jim Marrs||October 27, 2018 05:47am|
|George Harper Chaffee||October 18, 2018 11:58pm|
Tonight, Betsy and I will meet Allyson and Joe Paxton at Angelo’s. Joe, Alton Parks and I grew up within 300 feet of each other near Bluebonnet Circle. I haven’t seen Joe in 56 years. I’m looking forward to the reunion because Allyson’s a minister and I want her to know that Joe taught me my first cuss word.
We were playing Army in Joe’s backyard. Since his father was a combat veteran of WWII, I trusted Joe’s military expertise when he informed me that soldiers said “damn” a lot. He didn’t add any warnings, so we mowed down enemy soldiers as we yelled, “Take that, you damn Germans!” A few days later, my parents took me to an event at the gymnasium by Farrington Field. I noticed the threshold of the VanZandt log cabin was several feet off the ground so I asked, “Why aren’t there any stairs on the damn thing?” An unexpected sharp slap from my mother taught me that one does not use profanity in all situations.
When the Class of ‘62 said goodbye to Paschal, I headed to Texas Tech and, except for the summers, I said goodbye to Fort Worth. After college, I lived in Sherman, Oklahoma City, St. Louis, Tulsa, Topeka and Austin. Betsy and I met six years ago. Our marriages were ended by death or bad behavior. I’ll let you decide which. I still have family here and Betsy’s daughter wants to start a family here, so it made sense to move here.
I’ve learned how hard it is to move at my age. I had strong sentimental ties to the home we sold, and the guys who move you don’t do all of the lifting, unpacking and sorting of stuff. But as Betsy likes to say, here’s the deal: The move was made so much easier because I went to a First Monday gathering, because I plan to compare cars with Ted Gooch, because I had breakfast with a few classmates and because I’ll see Joe Paxton tonight.
I’m glad my goodbye to Paschal wasn’t permanent. I’m glad I’ll finish up where I started. And I’m glad that Thomas Wolfe was wrong. That actually, you can go home again. Especially when memories ever in our hearts remain.
|Kitty Eckardt von Doenhoff||October 01, 2018 09:00pm|
A Letter from Kitty
The last six months have cemented my belief in the treasured friendships formed over the last 55 plus years. On April 15th I suffered a most unexpected stroke. With wonderful medical and rehab help I have been lucky enough to make a successful recovery. At times like this the importance of Faith, Family and Friends becomes upper most in ones life, and our treasured friendships become crystal clear. There are not many people who have friends from 55 years ago that are still such a special part of their lives. My daughters knew exactly who to inform - Corky, Nancy Kay and Lela. They took on the job of informing the rest of you and word spread. Letty's Paschal buddies also helped with the calls. The calls, cards and prayers were an important part of my recovery. The fact that I live over three hours from Fort Worth and still feel a part of such a support group of friends is a blessing. We must continue to nurture this amazing circle of friends. I thank all of you for the prayers, and I look forward to seeing everyone again in the future.
I have been so blessed,
Kitty Eckardt von Doenhoff
|Charles Awalt||September 22, 2018 09:18pm|
|Concerning Two Short Stories|
A Story by Gerald A. George
In high school English class at R. L. Paschal High School in Fort Worth, Texas, in 1961, I accepted an assignment from our teacher, Miss Lois Ann Smith, to report on a short story by the author who went by O'Henry, but whose real name was William Sydney Porter. The title of the story was "The Last Leaf". I went downtown to the old Fort Worth Public Library on Throckmorton Street across from the then City Hall. I walked down the fiction aisle to where it said "Short Stories". The books in those days were for the most part bound in anonymous colored boards that gave just the title, such as Collected Short Stories, and the last name of the author. I found a book of stories labeled "Porter", and there was a short story inside entitled "The Last Leaf". I checked out the book, took it home, read the story, and was prepared to report the next day. Soon after I began my presentation, Miss Smith exclaimed "Whatever in the world are you talking about, Gerry?" "O'Henry's 'The Last Leaf'", I answered. "And where did you find that?" my teacher queried. "In this book from the public library," I replied. "Let me see that," Miss Smith demanded; and then she burst out into laughter. "You have checked out a book by Katherine Anne Porter, not William Sydney Porter, which just happens to have a story of the same title." "Oh, I am so sorry," I said. "Now," she went on, "you go home and get the correct story and report back here tomorrow."
I do not recall much about the Katherine Anne Porter story, although today she is a writer whom I sincerely respect, author of the novel Ship of Fools, and just happens to have been born near Fort Worth. But I remember the O'Henry story. It is about a young woman who is dying with pneumonia. She is convinced that she will die when the last leaf on the vine growing outside her window falls that winter. A neighboring artist contrives to fool the woman by painting a leaf on her window. Strangely, as is often the case with O'Henry, the woman recovers; but the artist dies ... from pneumonia contracted while painting the leaf.
|Wayne Bigham||September 10, 2018 02:01pm|
|If you read this, plan to attend the First Monday celebration October 1, 2018. The place is secret and will be placed in our 'calendar' a week or so before. It's going to be fabulous! You DO NOT WANT TO MISS THIS. See you soon.|
|Allen Mccorstin||December 01, 2014 04:30pm|
You run up the back porch, slam the kitchen door behind you, and your mother says stop right there take off your shoes and hang up your jacket and wipe Barney’s feet with that old towel and DO NOT let that dog near the cookies, but OK you can have one, but just one. The cold air, the warm kitchen, and tomorrow Christmas, the best day of the year, enough wonder and joy and mystery to make your head spin. Your mother says your grandparents will be here soon and they will have your room and make sure one more time your room is clean, all your clothes picked up, and your toys put away where they belong and you can sleep in the living room, on the sofa, and you beg your mother to leave the Christmas tree lights on and she says OK, but just for a little while, those things worry me and you’ve got to be sure there’s plenty of water in the dish that’s your job or else the house will burn down. You take a cookie and attack your mother from behind, hugging her around her waist, her apron with the reindeer on it and she turns, laughing you scared me, and kisses you on the top of your head and puts the back of her hand against your forehead. Not today, not Christmas Eve! Go lay down for a few minutes, you’re overexcited, and you run to the living room: a sofa covered in something that feels like your bedspread, a rug with little ropes wound around each other, each a different color, and what your mother calls a coffee table although you’ve never seen coffee on it, grandfather’s clock, the TV with the rabbit ears just so, and a cabinet with books and what your mother calls knick-knacks, little statues of Jesus and a glass ball with Santa Claus and his reindeer inside and all year long you can flip Santa over and over and make it snow on him and there, hard against the front window, what Mother calls a wing chair although it has no wings but was moved to make room for the magnificent CHRISTMAS TREE, beneath it the presents and you flop onto your stomach and you look at the decorations eye-level, the toy soldier and the wooden sleigh and you go around the tree as far as you can, inspecting the presents again, all of them wrapped and named and all of them with bows, the most beautiful you’ve ever seen and you count those with your name and then you count those for your cousins who will be here tonight after church and you will all be allowed to open one, but the rest must wait for tomorrow, the real Christmas, and then there is the present you bought your mother when she let you go off by yourself – some lovely bath salts and you don’t know what bath salts are but the nice lady at Skillern’s assured you that every lady loves bath salts and they cost exactly the amount of money you had to spend on Mother and you wrapped her present, too, with plenty of red paper and a blue bow, a big blue bow. You marvel at the beautiful tree one more time, your heart about to burst with joy, the red and blue and green balls and the lights that take turns blinking and the angels and the berries and the stars, all hanging by little metal hooks. And at the top, the star, the beautiful star put there by your father standing on a ladder and your mother holding the ladder and saying please be careful and Barney wants to climb the ladder, too, and your mother says, Please! Put that dog outside before he kills your father!
And we also remember …
Sitting on Santa’s lap … the window displays downtown … Toyland at Leonard’s … the wonderful decorations and the marvelous smells at Mrs. Baird’s … writing that special letter and sometimes getting an answer. . . leaving out milk and cookies and THEN seeing the next morning that Santa had actually taken a bite of one … opening the gift you wanted most of all … going to your aunt and uncle’s and looking at your cousins’ toys, too … waiting for your grandparents Christmas Eve and wondering if they will have presents with them … the party at your aunt and uncle’s where there was punch you were not allowed to drink and your uncle always leaving early so he could sing in the choir at St. Patrick’s … making decorations at school that you would bring home and put on your tree and last …
The wonder and the joy, the blessings and the love of every Christmas Eve and every Christmas morning since.
Amen. And peace to us all.
|Sheron Steele||July 17, 2012 10:52pm|
|OK, Wayne, I’ll play, too. But first, thank you, and not just for your work in the reunion, but always. And Mike, too—thank you. And Jan, of course, whom I remember as always, always kind and ready to laugh. And Judy who was our friend—Caron’s and mine—and who gets to keep her pretty, brown hair—like our Grandma Steele—who still had hers at 103. Classmates, I didn’t fly in to DFW but drove with my BFF from undergrad days (my husband’s dad is terminally ill, so he was on duty). My “reunion” was scrambled all along the way and took a long approach and a long g-o-o-o-o-db-y-y-ye over hundreds of miles. I visited a marathon runner from my TCU days who had asked me to marry him back in the day. “I hope you don’t do that,” said my mom, “You’d make him miserable.” And Mom was absolutely and always right. As today’s hobby—and instead of running—I find that my old friend writes adult vampire novels (Ho-boy). My BFF was bewildered, of course. She’s writing another novel, and is the best contemporary metaphorist I know (I just made up that word). Such clean, vivid writing. One might say that like other artists, she sacrifices her life—her wealth, her health, her ALL to her passion. She scares me. I scare her back. This novel is about a trucker, a murder, a long haul from Houston to California—and my (mulatto) BFF had never before met a trucker or been to Texas, because as her Aunt Daisy told her, “Don-cha go down there; they lench us n-words in-tha South!” BFF wanted to talk to a real, live trucker. I stopped at a BIG west Texas truckstop. "OK, BFF, there's a trucker. Have at it." "You've gotta come with me! You've got long blond hair!" says BFF. "Uh, that wasn't the BFD we had, BFF. And my hair is white, not blond. YOU are the flirter with the truckers; I'm the bodyguard with bear spray." After some argument, timid BFF, feeling like a hooker, approached a trucker—absolutely unprepared—and asked all the wrong questions and came back within seconds. I tossed her out of the car again and went to buy gas, where a man with gap teeth and massive jewelry and a skeleton doo-rag and angel shirt helped me with the technology of the weird gas pump—just the guy BFF needed. He acknowledged that he couldn't read or write and was an itinerate cook at that truck stop. Oh, the stories he could tell! Finally, I'm dragging Rita around to meet this or that trucker for her interviews. Told Rita that she might start with interviews with the waitresses and their descriptions of their customers and work up to bold interviews with truckers. How good to see David—so happy and healthy and free, and my sister’s BFF, D’Anna. And Ellie and Helen and . . . And well, country clubs always look good, and I remember hot summer days spent in the pool with some of you, our moms chatting poolside. And I wish everyone who didn’t know if they should come to our reunion had just come anyway. You know why: “Who knows when we’ll be altogether again?” And it’s always, always later than we think. Which brings me to another thought. A CHALLENGE, classmates. Let’s plan ahead, save our pennies, collect another 20K or 30 or 100. At our 60th reunion, let’s give that ???K to the Ft. Worth public school that has the poorest academic record (shhh . . . we do not want to engender competition toward the abyss. It should be a managed surprised). Let’s earmark those monies for what we (from the top 1% of our nation’s schools) deem valuable in education—or else, well, you know what happens even in education. People happen—sometimes people who begin careers as administrators with the best intentions, perhaps people with ambitions for power and greed, perhaps people like you and me—who want supplies in the classroom, extracurricular programs, good teaching, laughing and excited and interested students. Students who attended Daggett Jr. Hi. have some advantage in being able to see through the eyes of the disenfranchised, and we former Lily B. Clayton students saw this, too. And whatever became of Lola Lee or Cynthia Sue or Kenneth Williams? I made my BFF visit with an old friend from Daggett the day after the reunion. Let’s call him Bob—Bob Ryan. He’d called the funeral home in an attempt to get in touch with me after Caron died. And the funeral home director called me, “Bob Ryan left his phone number and offered his condolences.” “Bob Ryan. Bob Ryan. I don’t know a Bob R-r-r-—OH, M’GAWD! BOBBY!” After we met Bob at the Marriott—we all went to the Blackeyed Pea for a late lunch/early dinner where BFF discovered that Bob is a trucker! And where I discovered that Bob has done more with his life than I. Such things cannot be compared, of course. But example and realization or guilt make some things mighty plain. I had a hunk-of-a-boyfriend in junior high, but Bob was my friend. He was a small, straight-backed, red-headed Irish kid who was always in trouble. Always. And he had a bad temper to boot—like James Cagney in his bad-boy movies. Bob still has that old charisma—changed now, but just as strong. I remember that we talked for hours and hours on the phone as pre-teen and young teenagers and no one cared—not hunk-of-a-boyfriend or parents. But Bob REMEMBERS EVERYTHING WE SAID. Bob says that we talked about everything, explored everything, and more naturally than we might talk to ourselves or a same-sex best friend. There was something that hindered Bob—something from his background. But he and I did not know what it was at the time. Things were the way they were, and that was Bobby’s norm. Today, he describes it this way: “To my mom’s credit, she kept a roof over our heads and food on the table. That’s all. But she gave me no guidance. My dad had a job for a short time after he got out of the military with a disability, but when he lost that job he didn’t work again.” And apparently, the daddy provided even less guidance. So, Billy did not know the rules of living, the rules of the classroom; home and classroom and society were not mutually supportive. Cause and effect were hard to come by in Bobby’s life. Bobby’s life was hard, and he didn’t realize it, and after he figured out that something was very wrong, he had to figure out why. Bob has been married six times. He’s lost homes in divorces. He has a daughter he does not know, but who was adopted by a responsible and caring stepfather. His baby boy died at birth. He learned the hard way, and then… He helped raise the neighbor kids. He’s had the same job for thirty years, the previous job for twenty. His boss and colleagues love and respect him. He is a trucker. (BFF is thrilled and LOVES Bob. He'll be a star contributor to her book.) He’s careful. He builds engines in his workshop. He is rehabilitating a Pit Bull who needed a home. And Bob is a self-taught gentleman and is natural in his thoughtfulness. He is a straight talker, mild-mannered, taciturn and efficient with his words. He does not exaggerate. He does good work. He is considerate and fair, although he still does “not tolerate obnoxious behavior.” He asked me if I had a good husband. (And Dick’s just the best.) Bob noticed a void in his life a year or so ago, and so he began going to a local Methodist church. THAT absolutely worked for him. Bob asked me if I remembered a time way back there in jr. hi. when . . . we were on the phone . . . and I asked him if he cared for me at all (guess it was hard to tell with this bad boy). I do not remember asking him that. If he’d said, “Yes,” I WOULD have remembered. He must have waffled. But last evening he said, “I loved you then. I love you now. This is the END of our not knowing how each other is doing. On Monday, I’m telling the secretary, Suzanne, that if anything happens to me, she is to let you know.” Which is to say, that I’ll have to be very conscious to keep up with Bob’s natural sincerity, his honesty, his trust and friendship. Right in the foyer of the SpringHill Marriott, Bob leaned over and kissed me goodnight—right on the mouth and in front of God and anybody else who might be looking our way. All of this is what I mean when I say that Bob has done more with his life than I. To me, it seems as though he has learned more about being a human being—and without the springboard of a supportive family, money, education, my friendship or anyone else's. This is success. And have I done so well with my wealth of family and education and friendship and financial sufficiency? I wrote a candid account of my reunion experience for friends, and a Bedford lawyer (for whom I write and who is running for U.S. Congress from District 24; VOTE FOR TIM!) replied, “You began your reunion with a hug for a billionaire and you ended your stay in Ft. Worth with a kiss. I’d say that was successful!” How I would love to receive communiqué from you—email, letters, updates. Love from me, from the twins—Caron would like that, Sheron Mariah Withers-Steele|
|William Springer||July 16, 2012 11:46am|
|Thanks for the memories. Eddie Boles was a friend of mine and bigger than life. Why do we lose the best? Congratulations graduates for fifty years. You guys and gals are the greatest then and now. I glanced around the room attempting to erase fifty years from classmates. Nothing could bring back memories like the skit(final two hours) about our classmates; fifty years were erased by mentioning of names and events, Heaven must be like this by sharing events like these... Lana And I returned to the Marriott and enjoyed the fireworks!!!|
|Anita Taylor||July 14, 2012 02:33am|
|The 50th reunion seemed to be gone in a flash. I enjoyed it so much. Seems like there is never enough time to visit with everyone. After it was over I heard of people who were there that I never had a chance to see. But it was great to see and visit with the many people whom I did see. What an amazing class we had and still have! We all seem to really enjoy being together and appreciate each other. We certainly grew up in a very special time and the memories and friendships I hold dear to my heart. In fact, I couldn't help getting emotional on Saturday night thinking about the gratitude I have for being a part of this very special group of people. The years (flying by!) just make it more dear to my heart. I was talking to my daughter and her class had their 10 year reunion recently. She said "Mom, it was nothing special. Only a few people came and no music, no invitations, just a message on facebook, and no one stayed long!" I told her I was sorry she couldn't have the kind of class I had. Thanks again to all the very dedicated people who helped to keep us connected and put so much effort in our reunions! Don't forget that each month we have a little reunion at "First Monday" and we all have so much fun together there. Be sure to email me if you want to be included on the email list. My email is firstname.lastname@example.org God bless each and every one of you and stay healthy for our next reunion!|
|Virginia Clay||July 13, 2012 12:40pm|
|The 50th Reunion of the Class of 62 was awesome. Over 300 people attended with smiling faces and hugs for all! Photos were made all during the night to preserve the memory and to capture a special moment with longtime friends!Food was fabulous,the live entertainment by Flashback singing our old favorite songs was grand and many people danced too! The Class of 62 remains one of the "best ever" most-together class of all times. Those that attended are still feeling warmth and happiness from seeing all our wonderful classmates of the bygone years!Fortunely, many friendships were renewed and classmates will be in continued contact with each other. It was a WOW reunion! Best wishes to all of the Class of 62, Virginia Clay Dorman|
|Arthur Hillman||June 15, 2011 02:41pm|
|I have thoroughly enjoyed first Mondays ever since I started 4 years ago . The inspiration was and still is Carolyn Jones Goodrum (Callie). I am in total agreeance with Mike Mc. when he states that it such a good feeling to see fellow classmates now. No one has really changed, due to the fact, all I still see are the faces of my classmates that will, forever remain, in my memories of dear ol' Paschal High SChool 1962.|
|Allen Mccorstin||June 09, 2011 01:07pm|
All right, fellow Panthers, “reunion time” is only a few months away! Please take the following multiple-choice exam to see if you are “ready” for our 50th reunion. There are no correct or incorrect answers. This “fun quiz” is just to help you know where you are in the “preparation” process.
Allen (Mike) McCorstin
 Can you believe it's been 50 years since we graduated from Paschal?
[c] Fifty what?
 Can you also believe you’re pushing 70?
[c] I'll only be 10 in dog years.
 Where would you say you had the most "intense" learning experience?
[a] In my algebra class
[b] History, no doubt
[c] The parking lot at Carlson's
 How many times have you been married?
[c] Do long weekends in certain Third World countries count?
 How many children did you have?
[a] One to three
[b] Four to six
[c] Thank God for vasectomies.
 What was the most important thing you learned at Paschal?
[a] How to live harmoniously with others
[b] How to become a productive member of society
[c] Get there early if you want a good parking spot.
 Who was your favorite “sports figure” at Paschal?
[a] Phil Bechtol
[b] Lance Cobb
[c] Pops Pulliam
 What do you miss most about our daily life at Paschal?
[a] Exposure to some of the finest teachers in the country
[b] The opportunity to stretch our learning horizons
[c] The Merry-Go-Round
 What do you remember most about our Senior Prom?
[a] The beautiful decorations and wonderful food
[b] The bittersweet knowledge of knowing that we would never be together like this again
[c] Confirming afterward that you really can get drunk on beer
 What do you recall most about our graduation?
[a] The fact that it represented a major landmark in our lives
[b] It was the end of an era and marked the beginning of our true journey into adulthood.
[c] Confirming afterward that you can really can get drunk on beer
 Who among public figures of 1962 had the biggest influence on your becoming a mature adult?
[a] President Kennedy
[b] John Glenn
[c] Rocky and Bullwinkle
 After graduation from Paschal, which event below had the most impact on your life?
[b] The fall of the Berlin Wall
[c] New Coke
 Can you say how much you really "grew" during your Paschal years?
[a] I became aware of my evolving spiritual, moral, and philosophical self.
[b] I came to realize that my time on earth is short and that I want to make the most of each day.
[c] About 12 pounds
 During your college years, thanks to Paschal, what challenges did you seem to “get” more easily?
[a] The science faculty really prepared me for a pre-med program.
[b] I would never have gotten into law school had it not been for our wonderful Social Studies faculty.
Surely your Paschal years contributed to your growth in many areas of your life. Let's explore a few.
 For example, what could you say about preparation for such events as raising children?
[a] I was able to empathize with my children and help them grow in positive directions.
[b] I understood that personal sacrifice was at the very core of good parenting.
[c] "No, John, look the ball into your umbilical cord!"
 Over the years, Paschal students have gone on to achieve many great things. Whom below would you consider the most “typical” PHS graduate?
[a] Charles Tandy, captain of industry
[b] Alan Bean, astronaut who walked on the moon
[c] Joe Don Looney
 If you could give just one piece of advice to Paschal's incoming freshmen, what would it be?
[a] Take advantage of all the learning opportunities that await you.
[b] Come prepared so you can get as much out of each class as possible.
[c] Get there early if you want a good parking spot.
 Deep in your heart, what "feelings" have stuck with you the most?
[a] The warm feelings I have toward old friends
[b] The supportive bonds between student and teacher
[c] Charlie Turner’s paddle on my butt
OK, now let's get "funky.”
 Girls, did you ever wear a "bouffant" when you were at Paschal?
[a] Yes, it was the fashion statement of the times.
[b] Yes, but only for a while.
[c] Mine was so big it had its own ZIP code.
 Guys, you see your old "flame" approaching across the room. What do you think?
[a] "There she is. I hope she's had a wonderful, enriching life."
[b] "It will be so good to chat and catch up."
[c] "I’m going to pass out if I have to hold my gut in for two more hours.”
 Girls, you ALSO see your old flame approaching across the floor. What do YOU think?
[a] "There he is. I hope we have time for a nice long chat."
[b] "I can't wait to hear all about his wife and children."
[c] "My God, is that a wet cat he’s wearing on top his head?"
The next few questions reflect the manner in which an education at Paschal prepared you for a mature life “beyond” academics.
 Girls, regarding childbirth, what were your most memorable moments?
[a] The realization that I was bringing a precious new life into the world
[b] The thrill of parenting and all the joy it can bring
[c] The epidural
 What were your most profound thoughts you had the first time you held your newborn?
 I was overwhelmed with love and joy.
 Here I am, holding one of God’s miracles.
 Mother of God, did the nurse get the right kid?
All mature adult women go through a period in their 40s or 50s called “menopause.” How did your experiences at Paschal prepare you for this important life event?
 How would you describe “menopause”?
[a] It was the realization that I was entering a new phase of my life.
[b] I looked forward to the richly rewarding excitement before me.
[c] Move away from the fan, or I will remove a testicle.
 When you were going through “menopause” what was your preferred thermostat setting?
[c] - 9
 In this same vein, did “menopause” affect your sleeping habits? For example, where did you sleep?
[a] In our bed, of course, next to my loving, supportive husband.
[b] In our spare bedroom, as I wanted to be considerate of my husband’s sleep needs.
[c] In the refrigerator.
 Later, scientists discovered something called “PMS.” Did you ever experience it and what was your opinion of it?
[a] I never experienced PMS and think that it was the result of poor methodology on the part of researchers.
[b] I might have experienced PMS, but it was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.
[c] I own a chainsaw.
Last, a few questions for everyone about our upcoming 50th reunion.
 What do you look forward to the most?
[a] The joy of catching up with old friends
[b] The entire experience – the friends, the food, the music
[c] Swapping colonoscopy stories
 We are all aware that we had certain “cliques” at Paschal. Let’s say that you had the opportunity to confront a person who was rude to or ignored you during our time in high school.
[a] We were all young, and I hold no grudges.
[b] Now that we are mature, I look forward to getting to know you.
[c] I hope you burn in Hell.
 Pretend you’re delivering a Paschal commencement speech. What would you like to “leave them with”?
[a] Your future is yours to make. You are in control of your life.
[b] Our nation depends on the contribution of young people like you. Act with honor and respect. ‘
[c] I went fishing near a nuclear power plant last week and is it just me or is there a second head growing out the side of my neck?
 Last, this will most likely be our last reunion of this nature. Would you like to make a final comment regarding your Paschal experiences?
[a] My time at Paschal was one of the best periods of my life and I will always cherish it.
[b] I would not trade my educational experience at Paschal for anything.
[c] Rainwater still owes me $5.
|Charles Awalt||November 10, 2010 04:24pm|
|Went to the 125th Anniversary celebration. Remember how wonky the clocks in the auditorium were? They never matched.|
They still don't. Some traditions go on.
|Charles Awalt||March 26, 2010 05:10pm|
|Jan Keen Hull's original article in the Fort Worth Star-Telegram 1982.
1982 Fort Worth Star-Telegram JUNE 30-JULY 1, 1982 NEIGHBORHOOD EXTRA/SOUTH-SOUTHWEST
'62 was the end of an era for Paschal
"Of all the traditions Wyatt established, probably his Paschal Honor System was the most notable. Never had any high school in Fort Worth incorporated such a unique code of student cooperation, respect and loyalty."
—Jan Keen Hull
EDITOR'S NOTE — In celebrating the 20th reunion of the Paschal Class of 1962, a member of the class was asked to share her memories. The following is Jan Keen Hull's recollection of her senior year.
By JAN KEEN HULL
Loyal alumni, traveling from as far as Spain, will return to join old schoolmates in reliving the '60s at Paschal High School.
When the seniors of 1962 left Paschal, Principal O.D. Wyatt retired. It was the end of an era.
Those who went to Paschal during his reign know how synonymous the name O.D. Wyatt is with the institution itself.
Of all the traditions Wyatt established, probably his Paschal Honor System was the most notable. Never had any high school in Fort Worth incorporated such a unique code of student cooperation, respect and loyalty.
Under the Wyatt Honor System, there were no detention halls, no demerit system, no tardy bells, and no teachers on duty in the lunchroom or halls. Paschal students were on their honor not to abuse their freedoms. The system worked so well, that Wyatt often remarked that only two percent of his student body would ever abuse this privilege. The words "two-percenter" became the Paschal phrase for lack of school pride.
All Paschal freshmen were indoctrinated into the Honor System during Howdy Week. Usually a skit, depicting an unloyal two-percenter opened the first pep rally. Though it was all In fun. it left a lasting impression to newcomers that they had arrived in "O.D. Land" and if tradition, loyalty, and school spirit were not their thing, it was time to shape up or ship out.
Wyatt never entered the auditorium for an assembly without the entire student body rising in respect. As a new freshman, I remember having a feeling of awe and curiosity about this little man who actually had faith in kids like us.
Stardust was Paschal's theme song through the years, even though by 1962, the song was a little out of date with the rock and roll age. But it was Wyatt's favorite and a memorial to his son who had been killed in WWII.
Please see For Paschal on Page 2
2 1982 Fort Worth Star-Telegram JUNE 30-JULY 1, 1982 NEIGHBORHOOD EXTRA/SOUTH-SOUTHWEST
For Paschal, '62 ended Wyatt's era
Continued from Page 1
We listened to Stardust every day. I think we heard every version. On the day of a big football game it was our signal to change classes. At times we thought it was corny, but if it was Wyatt's song, it was all right by us. Besides, it was Paschal tradition.
The pep rally was Wyatt's sounding hoard for the Paschal spirit he exuded. The Silent Yell was his favorite and is still the traditional cheer at Paschal today. We spelled out Paschal Panthers with a long, silent pause between each letter. Wyatt took this silent yell very seriously, intolerant of any noise during it. If there was a fake sneeze, cough, or giggle during the silent pause (usually those same two percenters) he would signal the yell to start over.
When the cheers were loud enough to shake the hanging light fixture on the auditorium ceiling, the reward was to skip fifth period classes. Even the two percenters appreciated this gesture, as it allowed extra time to sneak a quick cigarette in the parking lot.
The parking lot was guarded by Wyatt's "boys," the posse. In their white shirts and black cowboy hats, they looked the part. I don't think it mattered to Wyatt if there were a few two percenters in this group.
The posse and the cheerleaders had no problem building school
spirit our senior year. The Booster Club and the O.Dettes (spirit club formed by Patsy Prewitt (Wood)) were outstanding. Our football team under Coach Bill Allen went all the way to the semi-finals, losing a heart breaker to Wichita Falls (and Larry Shields).
The basketball team squeaked by the Arlington Heights tea-sippers to win district. The track boys dominated at the district meet, winning yet another victory. The ROTC and Paschal Band also took honors during the year of '62.1 think we were also in the running for the sports warship trophy, but one of our male cheerleaders tackled a football player from the sidelines during the Wichita Falls game. (A little school spirit went a long way back then.)
The Class of '62 boasts that Wyatt retired with our class because he was certain Paschal would never be the same when we no longer walked the halls. Whether this is true or not, (you can be sure) his legacy will be honored at our upcoming reunion. A portrait of Wyatt, painted by class artist Sherry Clark, will be presented during a program at Shady Oaks Country Club.
As the doors of Paschal closed that Spring 1962, it may have seemed like the end of any other school year, but it ended an era for R.L. Paschal High School and for those who shared the dreams of O.D. Wyatt.
|Allen Mccorstin||February 24, 2010 04:08pm|
|I love First Monday.|
I look forward to seeing old friends and making new ones, which is what First Monday is all about. I get to meet people with whom I never had a class or whose path, for some reason, I never crossed.
I asked one of our classmates if she were going to attend any of our reunions, or even First Monday. Her answer was adamant. "No. I don't want to see those people as old people. I want to remember them as young people, like they were when I knew them."
Well . . . I love seeing us older, grown up, and - oddly -- I don't seem to notice many differences. Sure, some of us have some wrinkles or a bit more weight or a bit of silver on our noggins or maybe even less on our noggins, but by and large, when I look at Paul Ray or Donna Lamberson or Rick Bender or Anita Alexander I still pretty much see the Paul and Donna and Rick and Anita of 1962, only more deepened and informed, perhaps what we might have called "mellow" back in '68.
So while there might be some difference in how we look, the best of all is getting to know how we have changed "underneath." Life has treated some of us well and some not so well, but it has not left any of us untouched OR uninteresting. The stories of our journeys to become what we are today is the best part of First Monday, that "getting to know" part.
Take Anita, for example: It's been my good fortune to meet her as an adult and to discover that we have things in common. She's no longer just that beautiful girl who scared me because she was such a beautiful girl: she's now a beautiful woman whose good sense and insights into life have provided me valuable lessons, such as how to deal with adult children.
I also like being in the company of people who enjoy each other's company.
For example, if you want to be enthralled and laugh your behind off, sidle up to Kenny Pounds, and listen to him talk about life as a defense attorney: his tales of hookers and bikers and just plain vanilla killers are right out of Damon Runyon. And it's not just Kenny.
Jim Marrs is our class's most prolific writer, surely the only one of us whose work has been used in a movie. I did not meet Lance Cobb in school, but I will venture to say that he was our best all-around athlete. I have found him to be an extremely polite and thoughtful man. He works on Wall Street and at a recent First Monday told me a fascinating story about a group of traders who did not necessarily have their clients' best interests at heart.
Ask Claxton about the dead cat he had to carry around. Ask Sue about flying upside down in an automobile.
So come on. Invite yourself in. Chat it up, introduce yourself, say "hi." Share the stories of all those highways and byways, all those You Can't Take It With You moments. We must have more than one.
I don't know who created First Monday but I thank them. I look forward to every one I can attend and to attending for years to come. I look forward to catching up, to getting to know all of us better. And we can thank First Monday for that wonderful privilege.
|Wayne Bigham||February 15, 2010 01:23pm|
|Dear Classmates: Lance Cobb sent me information that our 'famous' classmate, Richard Rainwater is being honored by the Stanford Business School Alumni Association in Stanford, California. Richard has been an independent investor since 1986. He founded ENSCO International Inc., and co-founded Columbia Hospital Corporation. He also formed Crescent Real Estate Equities, Inc. in 1994, and has been purchasing Texas real estate since 1990. Richard remained CEO until August of 2007 when the company was sold. He spends much of his time playing golf and staying financially active. The award is the very prestigious, "ARBUCKLE AWARD", and will be given to Richard at the Ernest C. Arbuckle Award Dinner on Wednesday, February 17, 2010. Cocktails at 6:30 P.M., and Dinner begins at 7:30. Invitations only, but I understand you can contact Jessica Christie at: 650.724.2709 for more information. Some of the past recipients are: The Lord Browne of Madingley, Sloan '81 Robert M. Bass, MBA '68 Charles R. Schwab, MBA '61 George P. Shultz, Sec. of State Congratulations to Richard! You make us proud! Go Panthers!! -PHS '62 website|
|Wayne Bigham||March 04, 2009 11:10am|
|With great pleasure I am writing to announce that the Paschal Alumni Board has voted this evening to provide funding for the remaining shortfall in the Waken the Sleeping Panther beautification project. This action will allow the final phase of construction to begin (with the cooperation of our landscape contractor) as early as spring break, March 16, 2009. As you know if you have driven by 3001 Forest Park Blvd. in recent days, there has been much activity already, The building has been painted, sidewalks poured (a wonderful contribution from the City of Fort Worth), trees replaced, irrigation installed (thank you Price Hulsey, Alan Garcia, & everyone at Fort Worth Lawn Sprinkler!), thousands of native plants planted, decomposed granite placed in heavy walkway areas, light poles painted, trash receptacles installed, and benches for student seating installed. Quite an accomplishment to date! The better news is that the portion of work that involves construction can now commence. Within the next thirty to sixty days, we hope to have the final phase of the Waken the Sleeping Panther project complete. This phase will include several retaining walls to be constructed around the large live oak trees near the Paschal auditorium. These walls are designed to provide additional seating for students. Many new shrubs and ground cover plants will be added to further enhance the beauty of the project. This project has only been possible because of the cooperation of the Fort Worth ISD, the City of Fort Worth, the administration of Paschal High School, the Paschal PTA, our campus neighbors, the Panther Student Body, and of course, an amazing group of alumni who have opened their hearts and their pocketbooks to make this project a reality. While we still have much to accomplish, I want to send special thanks to the Paschal PTA and in particular, Panther Mom Libby Manning who has donated more hours than we can count to bring this project together. Libby may not be a Panther but she absolutely bleeds purple. Thank you Libby for a job well done! We will have more communication in the coming days regarding our progress, a ribbon cutting ceremony, and more official thank you's for our many generous donors. In the meantime, thanks to all of you for your continued support of Paschal High School! Memories Ever... Kevin Medlinpaschalalumni@gmail.com817-881-2021|
|Sue Howard||February 17, 2009 01:58pm|
|Well Janyth Rae, So glad that you could join us here at the website......very neat ...don't you think ! All the guys have done a wonderful job setting it up for us. We all just have to use it more. How are you ? We will all keep pestering you until you come for one of our "First Monday's". You could even be the "mystery guest" of the night. There must be a prize involved for being the "MG" of First Monday....So when can you come? See Ya, Martha Sue|
|Jan Owens||February 15, 2009 08:45pm|
|I have been blackmailed into participating in this incredible website because I wanted info about Medicare from a Monday night meeting. Wayne Henry said for me to get this info, I must go to my profile and join up. So, I joined up and found that there are all kinds of benefits from joining up! I will check in more often to see what's happening... It's good to hear from everyone...|
|Doug Smith||January 26, 2009 04:56pm|
|PHS '62- What memories! As I read these messages, it brings back the wonderful times we all had. I regret having been out of touch until the '02 Reunion, but it was good to renew many old acquaintances then. "Hail dear old Paschal, purple and white..."|
|Craig Kress||January 26, 2009 04:20pm|
|I have a rather unusual question to ask everyone about my high school girlfriend, Patsy Swan. She was a flute player in the band, and we went everywhere together. As most teenagers do, we were planning our future life together. In the Summer of '62, I left home to attend the University of Texas, and we had plans to be together often, whenever I returned to Ft. Worth. As strange as it seems now, we didn't call "long distance" much because it was too expensive, but Patsy and I wrote to each other...for a very short time. My roomate, Howard's, girlfriend also stayed to finish her Senior year at Paschal and as I remember (47 years later),she told Howard that Patsy had a new boyfriend...a few weeks after I'd left Ft. Worth!!! I was so distraught, I sent all of her photos back to her. And, I never saw her again. I have tried through the years to find her. I heard she dropped out of school; I heard she moved to Dallas; I heard she actually got married sometime soon after I left. But I don't know anything. I have always wondered about her. She was, and is I suppose, my "true love." If you know about Patsy, I would appreciate an e-mail. Thanks!|
|Wayne Bigham||November 30, 2008 07:41pm|
|The following text is from Betty Short -class of 1963 "How fortunate we were to be at Paschal when we were. What a special, magical time ! We have so many wonderful memories. Most significantly is Mr. Barr who encouraged fellow classmate, Ray Torres to take me out. We have been married 44 years and have 4 grown sons and one granddaughter. We still still keep in touch with him and love him dearly. We moved to Sacramento, California in 1965 and have been here since. I graduated from Sacramento State and became a teacher. I taught junior high and high school science for 32 years until retiring in 2005. Ray continued to play drums until he started dialysis in 2002. He still does some recordings now and then. We knew many of the 1962 alumni although we were not in that class. We were class of 1963. We would love to hear from any of you. Our email is email@example.com. Purple reign", Betty Short & Ray Torres '63|
|Wayne Bigham||October 20, 2008 08:06am|
|I recently visited the Texas State Fair in Dallas. As I was walking out of the fairgrounds, I saw several massive blocks of rose colored granite, etched with the names of those KIA in Viet Nam. This was a replica of that memorial found in Washington D.C. As I searched for Eddie Boyle's name among our heroes, a Viet Nam vet came up and helped me search and find his name. After locating it, he gave me a small American Flag to place by Eddie's name. This showed those visiting, that someone had found his name and perhaps had some private thoughts about this fallen soldier.Just thought I would share this very special moment and the photo with you all.|
|Mike Wall||October 14, 2008 11:20am|
|Do you have any information on the site that updates our class members, married, children, grandchildren and any other infomation classmates would like to share. The site is great and now that I am retired I have time to reunite with some old friends and maybe make some new ones.|
|Corky Elkins||September 29, 2008 08:08pm|
|Thank you Charles for walking me through this process.Wayne tried earlier, but I never could get in. The sight is wonderful, and you boys have done a great job! I still feel so close to my PHS classmates, and the "First Monday's" have helped keep those friendships renewed, and new friendships made. My days at Paschal seem so long ago, but the friendships are so currant. When I tell people about our great class of "62" they are so envious! We were lucky, and came around at a special time! My favorite teacher was Aubyn Kendall. She taught me things I didn't think I could learn, and came in early before school to help me. I couldn't spell, so flunked every test she gave me when I first came to her class. When she saw I had a big problem, she taught me how to use the dictionary. I was a senior, and no one else had recognized I had learning problems,"Dyslexia". I don't think it had a name yet. They just gave me art projects for extra credit to get my grades up enough to pass. She did unconventional things to find my learning style, and never made me feel stupid. I made an A- on my first English paper when I got to college, and guess what, no mispelled words! Mrs Kendall is gone now, but she will never be forgotten. Now where is spell check when I need it!|
|Leslie Gerolde||August 05, 2008 09:00pm|
|Mike - Wow! I thought I was a decent writer until I read your wonderful piece about all of us - I wept like a baby. I knew we were special, and I think about that fact frequently, but you really brought it home - thank you for such a wonderful summary of our lives! Wheneve I feel a bit uncertain or insecure I will dive into this wonderful website and read it again. THANK YOU!!!!!!! Leslie Gerolde|
|Anita Taylor||August 03, 2008 01:30pm|
|How wonderful that we can stay connected this way. We all have busy lives and some of us don't live here in Ft. Worth so we can still have this website to stay connected. Thanks, Wayne,Charles, and Mike for all your hard work to get this done. For those of us that live here in Ft. Worth or close by, we enjoy our monthly get-togethers so much. It's like time hasn't passed by so quickly. We can get together on a regular basis and share and laugh and relive great memories together and keep up with our lives now. Please come and join us when you can. We meet at individual's homes or nearby restaurants and there is a notice sent out each month. If you want to be included in the email just drop me an email at firstname.lastname@example.org|
|Susan Ellis||August 02, 2008 04:33pm|
|Terrific website guys --thanks for all you hard work....hope people will continue to stay connected in this very convenient way ! My Best Susan Ellis|
|Wayne Bigham||August 02, 2008 02:06am|
|THE CLASS REUNION ...or, 'What Another 5 Years May Bring'! Every ten years, (maybe even more often than that) An announcement arrives in the mail, A reunion is planned; it'll really be grand; Make plans to attend without fail. I'll never forget that first time we met; We tried so hard to impress We drove fancy cars, smoked big cigars, And wore our most elegant dress. It was quite an affair; the whole class was there. It was held at a fancy hotel. We wined, and we dined, and we acted refined, And everyone thought it was swell. The men all conversed about who had been first To achieve great fortune and fame. Meanwhile, their spouses described their fine houses And how beautiful their children became. The homecoming queen, who once had been lean, Now weighed in at one-ninety-six. The jocks who were there had all lost their hair, And the cheerleaders could no longer do kicks. No one had heard about the class nerd Who'd guided a spacecraft to the moon; Or poor little Jane, who was always so plain; She married a shipping tycoon. The boy we'd decreed 'most apt to succeed' Was serving ten years in the pen, While the one voted 'least' now was a priest; Just shows you can be wrong now and then. They awarded a prize to one of the guys Who seemed to have aged the least. Another was given to the grad who had driven The farthest to attend the feast. They took a class picture, a curious mixture Of beehives, crew cuts and wide ties. Tall, short, or skinny, the style was the mini; You never saw so many thighs. At our next get-together, no one cared whether They impressed their classmates or not. The mood was informal, a whol e lot more normal; But this time we'd all gone to pot. It was held out-of-doors, at the lake shores; We ate hamburgers, coleslaw, and beans. Then most of us lay around in the shade, In our comfortable T-shirts and jeans. By the fortieth year, it was abundantly clear , We were definitely 'over the hill'. Those who weren't dead had to crawl out of bed, And be home in time for their pill. And now I can't wait; they've finally set the date; Our fiftieth is coming, I'm told. It should be a ball, they've rented the hall At the Shady Rest Home for the old. Repairs have been made on my old hearing aid; My pacemaker's been turned up to 'high'. My wheelchair is oiled, and my teeth have been boiled; And I've bought a new wig and glass eye. I'm feeling quite hearty, and I'm ready to party I'm gonna dance 'til dawn's early light. It'll be lots of fun; But I just hope that there's one Other person who can make it that night. Author Unknown|
|Max Chennault||June 19, 2008 09:59pm|
|I called Mrs Lillian Bales a few days ago and had a very nice visit with her. She seemed to be very upbeat and, I think, really appreciated the call from a former student. I think she would be very encouraged at this time by calls from any of her former students.|
Want to post a comment? Just log in!