Memory Lane

This weekend, I return to the Metro-East area to celebrate the 60th Anniversary of the East St. Louis Senior High Class of 1957. Growing up in the blue collar City in the 1940's & '50's, were wonderful times for me. I knew I was loved; I felt safe, confident and blessed. My chosen social expression was sport participation as it offered developmental challengers from the competition theirin.

My parents, grandparents and extended family expressed love and support but never did I sense they worshiped me. I understood respect, expectations and accountability. Indeed these were 'those wonderful years.'

Those best of times would slowly unfold through my relationship with Gerry Bischof. She was the Catholic girl and I the Methodist boy. We would share our first kiss in our early teens at one of those junior high house party's. We would date throughout our high school years as she attended the all-girls' St. Teresa high school and I would report to the city's public school known as East Side High.
Gerry would follow her boyfriends high school sports career and continue in that sports' partnership as the wife of a high school coach; a sport journey that continues this day...a total of 64-years.
Three grown children and their respective spouses, which produced fifteen grandchildren and ultimately two great-grandchildren make today, 'The Best of Times.'

EAST SIDE HIGH

We came from all parts of the blue collar city,
Our parents were proud and sought no pity.

We ran and played in neighborhoods side-by-side,
Eventually we meet at East Side High.

We counted Hispanics, Whites and Blacks,
We came together from both sides of the tracks.

Girls always social joining many clubs,
Guys most conceited believed they were studs.

Some very bright students, make no mistake,
Others were clowns and kinda half-baked.

We laughed, shared secrets and dressed the same,
We dated, we danced and cheered at games.

Young and foolish we took a dare,
Few found sweethearts for a life to share.

Graduation found us going separate ways,
But precious memories remain from East Side days.
(Touch)
The Way We Were