Re-acquainting

Yesterday, July 13, a number of us, under the leadership of Bob Adams, again gathered at Nick's to rehash old times.  Bob had driven over from the Twin Cities, and along the way, picked up Jim Arndt in St. James, MN.  This is the first time many of us had seen Jim since high school.  Also in attendance were Tom and Walt Osterberg, Randy Hofer, Steve Hayes, Bernie Hendricks, and Sandy Frie, who, as official photographer, will post any pictures on Facebook.  We were also blessed to have a number of our teachers/coaches join us:  Mr. LeRoy Klavetter, Mr. "Skip" Webster, Mr. Paul Johnson, Mr. Bill Gibbons, Mr. Duane Rykhus, and Mr. Bob Jostad.  We talked for about three hours, and those of us who were left walked over to the old high school and took a little tour.  The annex has been torn down, and many of the old classrooms have been converted into apartments.  Some of the other classrooms are local business,  Lifetouch Photographers, for example, occupy the rooms on the first floor that formerly housed the district administrative offices.  We recalled which teachers were in which rooms, and some interesting events that occurred there.  Many thanks to Bob for again organizing this gathering, the second one we have had this summer.  We are hoping that we can get together again within the not too distant future.

Many thanks to Sandy Frie for taking this picture of the gang under the canopy at Nick's.  Bernie and Mr. Rykhus had not yet arrived.  Standing in the back are Mr. Bob Jostad, Tom Osterberg, Mr. Leroy Klavetter, Randy Hofer, Steve Hayes, Jim Arndt, Walt Osterberg, Mr. Paul Johnson, and Bob Adams.  Seated at the table are Mr. "Skip" Webster, John Iverson, and Mr. Harry "Bill" Gibbons.

Gus Adams, Sad and Glad

Monday, June 8, was the visitation and funeral for Bob Gustafson.  Among those from our class paying their last respects were Emmett Earley, Vern Olson, and Dennis Prussman.  Bob had typical interests of someone of our vintage.  His entertainment tastes ran to the Minnesota Vikings football team,  westerns and war movies, and the music of our generation, especially Motown.  He also enjoyed playing video games with his children.  Additionally, he was noted for his generosity with them, riding bikes to the park and playing friendly games of catch.  Bob's little league team was the Giants.  Mine was the Dodgers, so we squared off against each other a number of times.  The Giants-Dodgers professional baseball rivalry extends back over a century; ours was just a smidgeon in comparison, but those days were memorable.

Bob's older sisters were somewhat older.  One sister graduated in 1966, a year in which some of our siblings also graduated.  Another was a few years older yet.  Bob had served some time in the Army right out of high school.  He then worked at the Dakota Inn, right across from the swimming pool.   It was there that he met his future wife, and developed his well-known culinary skills.  He was noted for coming home from work at the street department (in the summer, we would see him painting the crosswalks) and preparing  a delicious supper from scratch in less than an hour.

The American Legion  provided the military honors at the conclusion of the service.  Our condolences and prayers go out to Bob and his family.  He was a wonderful family man, and will be missed by many.  http://rudesfuneralhome.com/sitemaker/sites/RudesF1/obit.cgi?user=05340031_RGustafson


This afternoon, June 10, Bob Adams treated a number of us to some Nickburgers.  He made a special trip to get together with classmates and teachers from our era, especially some of those players/coaches from our 1968 basketball team.   In attendance were Jim Kortan, Bernie Hendricks, Steve Hayes, Sandy Frie, and Skip Webster.  We talked mostly about our athletic teams, in particular the 1967-68 basketball season, which culminated in a state championship for the Bobcats.  Bob had been a member of the two previous Bobcat varsity basketball teams, and noted that the attitude going into his senior year was much different than the previous two years.  Those teams really struggled, but in 1967, we had a new school, a new coach, and a promising group of juniors.  Bob recalled how, even though we lost our first game by about 10 points, he sensed that the season would be successful.  Was he ever right!

In addition to the basketball tales, a number of football sagas were also remembered.  Steve Hayes has practically a photographic memory of what happened back in those days.  His recall is astounding!  We are hoping to meet informally whenever the occasion arises.  In a couple of years, it will have been 50 years since those memorable days.  Perhaps a reunion will be in the works for the 2017-18 school year.

For those of you on Facebook, you may see some photos of this informal get-together on that site.  One of the attendees said that they would be posted there. 

Pay Attention, Folks, cuz Mr. Hauschild Did

Ultimately, any tribute to BHS teachers in the 1960s must include some Mr. Hauschild anecdotes.  He was a multi-faceted guy: a semi-pro baseball player, teacher, coach, WWII veteran, state legislator and eventual town mayor.  According to his daughter Patty (shared during a loving tribute to her dad at his funeral in 2000), he was much more observant of, and discerning about, his (often smart-a$$) students than they realized.  Known as "Haus" and "Wayne-O  Potato" and other nicknames, he knew about them all, and chuckled along with everyone else.  Some memories here.....

One night at B squad basketball practice, we players were sitting on the bench listening to Mr. Hauschild ramble a bit.  (He was a good rambler.)  He had been thinking about racial equality, and wanted to share a bit-o-wisdom with us.  He pointed out that the SDSU basketball team currently had a tall (white) center...named Tom BLACK, and an African-American guard...named Maurice WHITE.  Haus figured (here it comes...) that "It all comes out in the wash, I guess."  We players all sat there and pondered that tidbit of race-doesn't-matter enlightenment before being whistled back out onto the court.  Maybe it's not Martin-Luther-King-Jr profound, but it got my attention and I still remember those words, 50+  years later.

Barry Buehler figures in two Haus memories.  The first involves the word "can't."  I had been warned by upperclassmen not to use the word "can't" around Mr. Hauschild, especially when it was preceded by the singular pronoun "I", as in "I CAN'T."  Haus did not like (to say the least) the lack-of-effort, defeatist attitude implied by such a phrase.  Barry made the mistake of saying it one time  --and only one time--  at basketball practice.  Mr. Hauschild jumped all over him, shouting loud enough to be heard in the far corners of the gym.  I heard the yelling from a distance and knew instantly what had happened.  I tried to think of some safer, alternative phrases one might use to avoid the explosion, such as "That may not be possible for me to do"  or  "I doubt my skill level makes that a realistic goal"  or  "My achieving that is questionable."  Luckily, it was just a mental exercise; I never said those words to Mr. Hauschild.  Why not, you ask?  Because he was always paying close attention, even when you thought he was not.

Case in point:  In junior-year history class, everyone had to write a "term paper" once a quarter.  Pick a subject, research it, write 5 or 6 pages on it.  Now, we all realized that was a heck of a lot of papers to grade in the space of a few days every quarter.  Did Haus actually read every one of those papers thoroughly?  The foot-high stack of research papers on his desk, waiting to be graded, argued more for skimming than close reading.  Barry Buehler thought he would do an experiment.  Right in the middle of handwritten page three, right in the middle of a sentence, no special spacing or punctuation, Barry simply wrote do you really read these papers.   See how that kind of sneaks past your notice without a comma, without a question mark?  The question did not sneak by Mr. Hauschild.  When Barry got the graded paper back, there in the margin, in typical teacher red ink, were the words, "Yes, Barry, I do."  Case closed.  Mr. Hauschild always paid attention.

And finally, a memory from the 1967-68 basketball season, from the bleachers during a B game.  At halftime, coach Hauschild and the B-squad players headed for the locker room, walking past us (again, smart-a$$)  A-squad guys.   Jim Arndt, a master imitator of teachers if ever there were one, had Mr. Hauschild's voice down cold.  Jim shouted out some phrase that Haus would use, nailing the cadence and pitch perfectly.  It seemed rather risky: imitate Haus right in front of him?  We players got very quiet.  Haus didn't show any sign he had heard an echo of himself; he continued to look down at the floor as he approached us.  He was wearing that pair of black glasses that routinely slipped down his nose.  When he got right in front us, up came his right hand, fist closed except for the middle finger, which jabbed the center of those glasses back up where they belonged.  A typical movement for Haus, sure, but...hey...did he do it with a special emphasis this time?  Did he just flip us the bird?  We weren't sure!  He kept walking right out the door, no break in stride, no change in facial expression.  We all looked at each other.  Did he give us the finger, or didn't he?  Did a smile cross his face when he got out in the hall?  No one ever dared to ask him. We will never know for sure.  But like I said above, Mr. Hauschild always paid attention, so there is a good possibility that...

I last saw Mr. Hauschild in July of 1999, when he graciously agreed to give one of his patented voice-over-background-music-from-a-cassette-deck talks to our delayed class reunion.  We thoroughly enjoyed that vintage Haus lecture.  Before he left the banquet hall, I told him we all expected the same thing at our 40th reunion.  Already pretty thin and gaunt from the cancer that would take his life at what we all now appreciate is the young age of 74, he said "Well, Robert...what will be, will be."  I remember what he said because I paid attention.  And I learned to pay attention because he paid attention.  Thanks, Mr. Hauschild.

Catching Up

Just had a wonderful 4 1/2 hour visit with Tom Osterberg and his wife Tammy.  Even though we have been only 40 miles apart for many years, our paths have seldom crossed.  Bernie Hendricks had informed me earlier this week that Tom had by-pass surgery recently, so Tom Bozied and I made plans to see how he was recovering.  Tom B., however, had some emergency business to tend to, so my drive over there was without company.  Upon arriving, we naturally talked about the surgery and his recovery, but also covered our grade-school, high school, and college years, as well as life in the real world.  We were almost able to solve all of the world's problems.

Our conversation reminded us how fortunate we were to have grown up when we did.  In our more youthful days, we were able to round up the neighborhood kids and organize our own games of baseball, kick-the-can, capture the flag, etc., or even create our own games.  We made up our own rules to fit the situations we found ourselves in.  Our parents didn't hover over us as a number of parents do today.  We felt in no danger while walking or riding our bikes around town.  Our parents let us be kids, and didn't micromanage our childhoods.  We were given a great deal of freedom, but were expected to use that freedom wisely.  For the most part, we probably did.

We also reminded each other of the memorable times we had in school, both in and out of the classroom.  Since all three of us had been teachers, we noted the differences that have taken place in education over the the past half-century.  We recalled, too, how some of our teachers made deep and lasting impressions on us.

We resolved to get together again soon, and perhaps to get a few of the locals to join us. 

Northwestern National Bank

Did any of you have your first banking experience with the Northwestern National Bank at the corner of Fourth and Main, just south of Ray's Corner and  kitty corner from Kendall's?  Also upstairs, KBRK began operations in 1955.  Northwestern has an interesting history, and is now part of Wells-Fargo (http://blogs.wellsfargo.com/guidedbyhistory/2012/09/north-western-national-bank-14/).  When we were seniors, Sid Bostic, at that time working at the Northwestern Bank in Brookings, talked to our economics classes.  I believe he taught us how to write checks properly.  Mr. Bostic was on the 1963 SDSU national small-college championship team, and made the winning basket from half-court just as time was about to expire
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1963_NCAA_College_Division_Men%27s_Basketball_Tournament and
http://www.gojacks.com/ViewArticle.dbml?ATCLID=899943

 
One of the men who also worked at that bank was Harry Birath. He graduated from BHS 70 years ago  (http://www.classmates.com/yearbooks/Brookings-High-School/250549?page=12).   His son Bob was a year behind, while  Rich was two years behind us.   His other two children, Tom and Barb, were a little younger yet.  Mr. Birath was quite a talented individual in high school, as his senior photograph and caption shows.  He was a great asset to the community.  When he was older, he was active in Senior Olympics.  Sadly, he passed away recently (http://www.brookingsregister.com/v2_news_articles.php?heading=0&story_id=24499&page=80). 

As the obituary indicates, Mr. Birath was an avid follower of the local athletic scene, and was a member of the BHS Hall of Fame, joining Lee Colburn and Jim Kortan of our class.  He was also a member of the South Dakota Senior Olympics Hall of fame.  I participated in Senior Olympics one year, and got to know him somewhat.  He even lent me his jump rope for that event, as mine was just a cheap one borrowed from the school.  When I was in 9th grade, one of his sons (Bob? Rich? maybe both) was a pole vaulter.  I also tried that event, so I became acquainted with him (them?) somewhat. 

Even though most of us probably did not know Mr. Birath, he was well-known in the community, as the guestbook for his obituary attests (http://rudesfuneralhome.com/sitemaker/sites/RudesF1/obit.cgi?user=80950548_HBirath).   Mr. Birath was a true Bobcat and Jackrabbit.  Please keep him in your thoughts and prayers.

A Difficult Easter

Easter is often associated with the beginning of spring and the joy and happiness of life.  As someone once said, though, there would be no Easter without Good Friday.  Sadly, Good Friday of 2015 was also the day the our Creator chose to bring an end to the earthly life of  Cathy (Wilber) Madson.   Her obituary can be found here--http://www.fairfaxmemorialfuneralhome.com/obituary/Catherine-Ann-Madson/Fairfax-VA/1497175 


Even though our paths did not cross very frequently in school, we both attended catechism classes together at St. Thomas More in Brookings (Cathy is five days older than I).  Below is our first communion picture.  It was common back then to combine two classes for this rather significant occasion, as our numbers were probably not all that high to justify a yearly ceremony.  In our case, there were some who were two years ahead of us in school.  Although this picture has been posted before, it is easier to post it again, rather than to provide a link to it (have just discovered that the right part sometimes gets cropped.  It seems that if you click on it, it will be enlarged.  Hit the escape button to return to the blog).

Can you identify any of these individuals?  The elder priest is Fr. Francis X. Dooley.  He would retire shortly after this picture was taken, having served the parish from about 1915 through 1959.  He was originally from Brooklyn, NY, and retired there, passing away in 1961. I don't know who the younger, taller priest is.
 I know more of the boys in this picture than the girls.  A few of the boys I do not recall at all.  My best guess is what follows.  Feel free to amend this list. 

Row one on the bottom:  Cheri Ahern or Carol Cole?, Patsy Bates, Kathy Funk, ?, Debbie Shirley, Robyn Connelly, ?, ?, Cheri Ahern or Carol Cole?, Margaret Pearson.

Row two:  Jim Antonides, Mary Lu Shirley?, a Howell girl (from Volga; one was year older than we were, while Judy, I believe, was in our class), Cathy Wilber, Cecilia Kellogg, ?, ?, ?, the other Howell girl

Row three:  Rick Thompson, Mike Braley, Mike McClemans, Pat Durland, John Iverson, Alan Leibel, Stan Skubic, ?, ?, Rocky Watson, Kevin O'Connell

Row four:  Arnie deBlonk?, Jerry Martinson, Dan Holm, ?, Tim Serlet, Jim Springer?, Jon Martinson, Greg Graff, Doug Biggar, Jim Wakeman

The unknowns may be from this list:  Barb Faust, Susan Redmond, Kathy Smith, Diane Sturdevant (all of whom are in our class);  Sally Hoy, Vicki and Becki Knutson, Mary Do Stewart, Judy Gill, Mike Durland, Dennis Fox, John Gill, Steve Kellogg, Greg Moriarty, and Steve Rossman (all of whom were a year ahead of us). 

It was wonderful seeing Tom and Cathy at our class reunion six years ago.  I also saw them four years ago at the funeral of Kevin O'Connell's mother (http://eidsnessfuneralhome.com/memsol.cgi?user_id=375416)  We swapped a number of stories about the good old days.

This obviously is a stressful time for Tom and his family.  The last few years must have even been more stressful for Cathy.  Not only was she battling cancer, but ten months ago, she lost her mother (http://rudesfuneralhome.com/memsol.cgi?user_id=1320423).  One month later, she lost her step-father (http://rudesfuneralhome.com/memsol.cgi?user_id=1353329).  The grief that the family is experiencing right now must be overwhelming.  

I see Cathy's brother Art in church just about every week.  He is often an usher. He also works concessions at some of the high school activities.  He mentioned once that he sometimes tells the people buying snacks at half-time that he used to live right here.  The Wilber family owned the land that would eventually become the high school.  I never knew that.  

Her sister Mary was good friends in high school with one of my sisters.  They both graduated in 1957. 
Mary is married to Chuck Cecil, long-time newspaperman and later administrator at SDSU.  They still reside in Brookings.  Chuck has written numerous and delightfulbooks about Brookings, SDSU, and South Dakota (http://www.goodreads.com/author/list/1337864.Chuck_Cecil).  He also has a regular column in the Brookings Register to keep the public updated.

One vivid memory of Cathy goes back to our first year in the new high school.  She was going with a wrestler (Dan Sterud?), and mentioned to Mr. Sherrill how moody and irritable he could be during wrestling season because he was cutting weight.  Even though Dan was a wrestler, I knew him somewhat because we were on the Teener baseball team that had gone to Hershey a few years before (50 years ago, in fact).

If any of you reading this have some wonderful memories of Cathy, feel free to post them in the comments section.

Please keep Cathy in your thoughts and prayers.  One excellent way to remember Cathy would be to follow the request from her obituary:  "Please make a donation in Cathy's name to your favorite charity in lieu of flowers. Or, should you choose to support Cathy's favorite charities, they are the Fisher House Foundation, Children's Hospital of the King's Daughter or ThyCa – the Thyroid Cancer Survivors' Association." 

A Sudden Loss

After high school graduation, we all went our separate ways.  A number of us went to SDSU, so we were able to maintain some sort of contact for a few years.  Our careers then called us, and we traveled to various parts of the country and the world.  With the advent of social media, many friends have been able to keep in close contact with each other in ways that were unthinkable when we were in school.  This blog has been an attempt to  keep our classes somewhat informed of what we have all been doing and to recall some memorable moments of our youth.  These stories include, as the Wide World of Sports television series advertised many years ago, "the thrill of victory, and the agony of defeat."


Recently, we learned of the passing of Cathy Helfinstine, the wife of David Helfinstine (http://eidsnessfuneralhome.com/sitemaker/sites/Eidsne1/obit.cgi?user=45513928_CHelfinestine).  My knowledge of Cathy is rather scant.  She was a year behind us.  She and David must have been a wonderful couple, as they were together for 41 years.  David attended Central, but we seldom crossed paths.  I can not recall being in the same classes as he was, even in jr. hi or high school. My main recollection of David is this picture from our senior annual:

I believe this picture illustrates David's introduction to the grocery business, an introduction he was to channel into an eventual career.  I think he owned and/or managed a grocery store in Willmar, Minnesota.    
At the visitation for Cathy, David indicated that Cathy had not been feeling well, but he was truly stunned and shocked to find out that she had passed away.    He seemed to be handling himself with great dignity, poise, bravery, and nobility under the circumstances.  It must be indescribable to explain how one feels when suddenly losing a spouse, particularly after having shared 41 years of life together.   Our thoughts, prayers, and condolences are with David during this sorrowful time.