Class of 1959

We received word today that yet another member of our class has passed away: Nancy Cochis Goss. At this point we have lost about a dozen of the 59 members of our Class of '59 including four since our 50th reunion: Bob Glasgow, Don Potter, Jim Lamb and now Nancy Cochis. It's hard to believe, though at our age, not unexpected. Even though we know we can't live forever -- nor would we want to! -- it's still hard to face the reality of someone's death. I don't think too much about my own death, partly because I'm good at avoiding unpleasant subjects, and partly because I have been spoiled by good health. When I do get the word that my life is ending, I imagine I might say something like, "What?? That's not fair!! You mean I don't get to play??" In other words, carpe diem, be good to people, try to see old friends. And rest in peace, Nancy, and all the others whom we have lost.

Lawrence Park High School

Lawrence Park High School was a school ahead of its time. I'm not sure we appreciated that when we were students there, but now it seems clear. The school existed for only 30 years, from 1933 until about 1966. (I'm not sure of the exact date.) Because Lawrence Park is such a small community it seemed that everyone in both the community and the school was connected in some way. Even now, an annual picnic for all the graduating classes, always held on the last weekend of July, draws a big crowd. Some of the teachers were there long enough to teach not only the brothers and sisters of former students, but also their children and maybe even their grandchildren. Jessie Skala, for example, taught my mother (Dorothy Schmock Wentz, Class of 1934) and Sadie Richards Wilson (Class of l933). The teachers, for the most part, were of the highest caliber and dedicated to their profession. I'm thinking of people like Jessie (I feel I can call her by her first name now), Ed Poly, Mr. (Clarence?) Brown, William Kring, Grace Smith, Robert Vislosky, and Howard Schilken who patiently (and sometimes impatiently) weathered the awful sounds of the high school band and orchestra in daily rehearsal. The school was run with tight discipline by Harry Rhodes and Dan Skala. Discipline was not really a problem in those days, but the few forays off the beaten path were handsomely thwarted by these two. And who can forget Jessie's insistence on the annual ritual of crossing arms and singing "Auld Lang Syne" before the Christmas break. It was a community in every sense of the word, and the school reflected this fact.

Lawrence Park H.S. mini reunion

What a joy to be with old friends from the Class of '59 -- old in every sense of the word! We're 72 now AND we've been friends since kindergarten. Mike Wilson, Margie Carando McMahon, Gail Meier Edwards (class of '58, but we let her in), Vicky Wentz Wood, and Butch Garren gathered at a restaurant in Bowie, MD, on Saturday night to laugh and reminisce. Another honored guest was Cormac, Margie's grandson, who was visiting for the weekend. A good time was had by all, and we promised to gather again during the summer. It really is special to have friends of such long standing.

And snow it did!

Wow! For once we have proper snow here in Bethesda. Not much -- only 3" or so -- but enough to close all the schools and make the teachers and kids happy. I know. I was a teacher once and I can remember wearing my "snow mitten" whenever there was a chance of snow. And when it happened, what joy! Nothing to do but roll over and go back to sleep, maybe play in the snow later, bake bread even. The lessons for the next day were already planned -- nothing to do there -- and the papers to be graded? Well, they were tantalizingly unreachable, sitting in a folder on my desk at school. Sweet. A gift from the gods.

Let it snow?

When I was growing up in Erie, we never talked about snow. What was there to say, after all? It snowed. From November through April it was not the least bit surprising to see tiny white flakes floating down from the perpetually dreary sky. We wore leggings and winter boots for months on end. Our fathers dressed their salted-up vehicles in snow tires and/or chains. We carried bags of sand in the trunk "just in case" we were stuck. And we did learn early on how NOT to get stuck in a snowdrift, and how to get unstuck when we did. School was NEVER cancelled or even delayed. OK, once it was. It must have been Thanksgiving in the early 1950's when a proper blizzard dropped three feet of snow which wasn't cleared in time for the opening bell on Monday. This winter over fifty inches of snow has been reported in Erie. We seem to have "won" the record for greatest snowfall of the season. At least so far. I wonder if the schools were closed this time? Here in Bethesda, outside of Washington, DC, it hardly ever snows, and when it does, it's ugly. The neighborhood kids do their best to fashion snowmen out of the soggy inch or two of snow they find on the still visible grass. Don't even think about making snow angels. The temperature hovers around the freezing mark, just enough to make roads treacherous and snowmen melt. Once in awhile, however, once in awhile, there is a proper snowfall. When the sun finally emerges in the blue sky, and the fresh snow sparkles, I'm brought back to Erie (to Toronto, too, where I once lived). I'm a kid again, throwing snowballs, and rushing down the golf course hill in my toboggan, snow flying all around.