The Message Forum is an ongoing dialogue among classmates. The goal is to encourage friendly interaction, including interaction among classmates who really didn't know each other. Experience on the site has revealed that certain topics tend to cause friction and hard feelings, especially politics and religion. 

Although politics and religion are not completely off-limits, classmates are asked to be positive in their posts and not to be too repetitive or allow a dialog to degenerate into an argument. 

Forums work when people participate - so don't be bashful! Click the "Post Response" button to add your entry to the forum.

Karlan Fairchild

Don,

I can relate to that sentiment.  I learned during my time working as a chaplain in hospitals that in the parlance of the staffers in the Emergency Rooms motorcycles are usually called "donor-cycles."  Which makes it all the more frightening when I remember that my son has one of those infernal vehicles.

Jim Richmond

At RJHS, we had one of the colorful hood types named Dusty Colvin. Probably was 20 and still in 8th grade. He had a new Triumph 650 bike. Any you Falcons remember the bikes turning the corner on Abrams and racing down Highland? Cops would be waiting a block or so away waiting for you to make a u turn.

Jim Richmond

Reading previous posts. Paul Ruekberg was one of the Jewish kids at RJHS and RHS.

Jim Richmond

Still reading. Lance, how come we always played football in your front yard when Terrace park was a mere block away? Were you always grounded?

David Cordell

Well, I've had a couple of motorized, two-wheel vehicles--too wimpy to be called motorcycles. A Honda 50 in ninth grade and a Honda CB100 (I think) in grad school. With the 50, I stayed out way too late one night at Debbie Dupree's, and my father went to her house to retrieve me. On the way home in a driving rainstorm and with no helmet, I ran into a parked car that was on the wrong side of the road--no reflectors. Flew over the handlebars and onto the car's windshield. Fortunate to escape without breaking anything other than the motorcycle, although a trip to the emergency room ensued. Wonder what my father thought as he followed behind and saw his son splayed lifelessly across the hood of a car. Not sure if he actually saw it happen. With the 100, I drove on the upper deck on I35 in Austin every day, and every day I thought about the fact that I could hit a rock, lose control, and go flying over the edge. I never felt comfortable.

Bill Sieling was able to walk the distance of the RHS hallways on his hands after spending so much time on crutches. I think he could walk up quite a few stairs, also. He was lucky not to have lost his foot/ankle in the motorcycle accident. Is retired in Coppell after many years as an air traffic controller.

Sandra Spieker (Ringo)

My son couldn't pronounce the word, motorcycle, properly as a three year old, it came out, murdercycle.  We didn't correct him. 

Sandra Spieker (Ringo)

As a matter of fact, I do ride a three-wheeler!  I own an ICE Trike recumbant.  It is a great ride!

Rick Wilber

Back in 9th grade, I had a Yamaha 80......thought it was great. Parents bought me a helmet that I was suppossed to wear all the time. Of course, I would go down the street and hide it in somebody's shrubs. No way was I going to be seen wearing a helmet!! Going to work one day, my mom told me to put it on and I figured since I wasn't going where I would see anybody I knew, I would keep it on. Got 3 blocks from the house and a girl at a stop sign didn't see me, started going and I hit her broadside at 35mph. Put about a 2 inch dent in her door and pushed the front wheel and fork back into the engine. Totaled the bike. I went over the handlebars and fell flat on my head. Split the helmet  about 4 inches long down the middle. That took care of my motorcycle days.

David Cordell

It sounds like Mama knew best, Rick.

Rick Wilber

David, I think you are right! Had the bike from August to November. Only wore the helmet twice....the day I got it and the day I wrecked it. Somebody was looking out for me!!

Lowell Tuttle

Cantor,  I drink Glenlivet, try to win/hustle on the golf course, manage my business, and read the RHS forum...and sometimes I remember to take my BP meds

Daryl Summers

Ich bin kein Jude

I was thinking how many Jews in our class. When I got to Miller (around 30) I started to feel icky about the subject of naming fellow classmates. Why do I feel uneasy about who is black and who is Jewish in our class. Could who is gay and who is straight be next? This sight could move in a better direction

Russ Stovall

Jim use to watch those guys flying down the street with the cops chasing them.  One of those guys I remember well was Chuck Dittman.  Decate 350. He would turn the corner and pop a wheely while being chased.  He was one of the best riders I've seen, REST HIS SOUL.  Chuck survived Vietnam and was hit by a car shortly after he returned home. 

One morning Chuck was flying by doing a wheely and returned at the steps to the gym area and we opened the doors for him drive into the halls to hide.  The still found him.

Danny Narmore (misspelled) I believe,  last day of school our 9th grade year rode his bike in the halls.  Almost hit his head on the ceiling going up the cork ramps.

David Cordell

I don't do emoticons, so just read this as pleasant discourse without a hint of rancor.

Holly, Dear Sweet Holly. I am 100% certain that you were the first person on this message forum to refer to Jewishness.

Lowell innocently mentioned the irony of a (possibly) Jewish friend receiving a "Christmas" gift. I followed up with the sinister passage below that seems to have caused so much consternation:

Holly, you have addressed growing up Jewish, but even with your maiden name, It didn't occur to me (and wouldn't have mattered) that you were Jewish until we were in high school. What's in a name? Classmate Debbie Moses was not Jewish, but Dennis Mosesman, my friend at St. Mark's, was. I guess the only classmates I knew to be Jewish were children of friends of my parents. Who was Jewish in our class? I would guess there were fewer than ten, but I'm probably still clueless. 

Now, if anyone feels that that passage is channeling my inner Nazi, dream on. (Wait! Wait! I feel a sudden urge to drive a tank into Poland!) Is asking who was Jewish a sign of blatant anti-Semitism? Give me a break! Political correctness run amuck. 

I am truly sorry, Holly, that you seem to have felt discriminated against for being Jewish. For my mother's entire life she felt like she was discriminated against because she was Italian--vestiges of being taunted in school ("Hey, Spaghetti!") and of the early part of World War II when Italy was part of the Axis. ("Hey, WOP, whose side are you on?") I may have mentioned that my wife once found my mother crying on the back porch after a fence installer didn't follow her specific instructions. Between sobs she blurted out, "He thought he could take advantage of me because I'm Italian." (Her mistake. She should have informed him before the fact that she was actually Sicilian. Important distinction. I bet the fence would have turned out just fine.)

Mentioning the black students who were at RHS during our tenure is hardly KKK material. Indeed, nothing negative was said about them. Quite the opposite. And the underlying sentiment was that it was another time, and that things have changed. Is it better not to mention them as if they hadn't existed? Further, we also pointed out that our class went to great lengths to plan an orientation for the Hamilton Park students who were enrolling the following year.

(Remember: pleasant discourse without a hint of rancor!)

Daryl, I must admit that I have wondered about who among our classmates was gay, and I suspect that many other classmates have as well, including gay classmates (although they may have had gaydar). Is that the same as advocating pinning a pink star on their shirts? Hardly. One of my closest friends, Mark Adkins, died of AIDS. My son is gay, and I worry about him all the time. For a year he and his then-partner lived together in my house, so I think I won't accept any label of homophobia, either.

By the way, I have also wondered about who among our classmates was a Democrat. (I was on your team back then, Daryl--one of the few to support Hubert Humphrey. I changed teams once I started paying taxes.) And, yes, I have wondered about how many Episcopalians were in our class. Last week, as I watched the Grammy special on the Beatles, I recalled watching their first Sullivan appearance while at my church youth group. I can't remember exactly who was at that meeting, but I have a few names in mind. Good news: I can ask without worrying about being declared racist, homophobic, misogynist, or anti-Semitic. Well, wait a minute. There were no Jews at my church, so I guess......

Anyway, and I am not directing this at anyone on this message forum, I find it disturbing when discussion is cut off by impugning the other person's character, such as playing the race card. It is an anti-intellectual form of bullying--a clever way of saying, "Shut up," without fear of reprisal.

Have I overreacted?  If you think the foregoing was an overreaction, you should have grown up at 305 West Shore and had MY mother. And please don't follow with the misquote, "Methinks thou dost protest too much." Yeah, Shakespeare is just a dead white guy, but he deserves to be quoted correctly.

Rick Wilber

Well said

David Cordell

This is the photo of Judy Travis from our freshman annual. Sorry if it reproduced too large.

Sandra Spieker (Ringo)

One of the most precious gifts I have ever recieved in my life came from my husband.  This gift was karate.  He encouraged me to join him and our son in their training sessions.  Danny got his training in his late teens and early twenties from a Korean he worked with at Fort Wolters, Texas.  It was a story very similar to the Karate Kid.  In teaching Danny the basic principles of karate, Mr. Park saved Danny from himself..  Danny became a black belt in Tae Kwon Do.  Danny's life was so influenced by this training that he wanted to pass it on to his own son.  So we joined a local school in Plano, as a family when our son was about 8 years old.  Both Danny and I were 40.  Danny started over again as a white belt in a Japanese style of karate.  We all learned together, sparred each other, competed on a national level, you name it we all did it together.  It was one of the best times of our lives.  Even though we don't practice the sport of karate any longer, we still carry the basic principles of karate with us and will do so forever.  We learned these basic principles: 

Courage, Courtesy, Humility, Integrity and Self Control.

I participated in Karate, learned it, taught it and practiced it for over 15 years.  It is more than how high you can kick or throw a punch, it is about how you control yourself and understand who and what you are deep down inside.  Have you ever had a sparring match with a 6 year old?  You must learn patience, and extreme self control and still bring out the courage with a child.  It is a very challeging experience. I have taught all ages, sparred with children, teenagers, and adults of all ages and types. 

I truly believe that any bullets we have dodged as parents in raising our son, were due in large part because of karate.  My son still regards me with a great deal of respect, not because I could pace him in karate, but because I endeavored to make myself better by trying to do my best.  I did not expect him to do anything I was not willing to do myself.

We have all made mistakes in life, and said things that we later regretted, that includes me.  I can be very tempermental and extremely outspoken. When I do make a blunder, I look back at those basic principles and try to see just which one I failed to live by.  The next time I will do better.  In my humble opinion, that is how you walk the talk.  Not just say I will repent, but work it, do it.

I made a poster of the principles and I have it hanging in my office, by my computer.  I will post a small version for all of you in hopes it spreads a message of goodwill among us all.  Peace.

Karin Ridenour (Anderson)

Holly:

I am one of the dreaded Democrats and I stopped posting after my comment that RHS should not be paying speakers to come to the school during class time to denigrate women and gays got lambasted for limiting freedom of speech.  There's certainly a difference between speaking your mind on your own time and being paid to trash 1/2 of the school population in favor of white males.

My parents raised me to be Republican but I "saw the light" in college  at North Texas and transformed into a Progressive Dem.  I believe in the opportunity for education and jobs and a safety net when we are down.  Despite the Recovery, there are still 3 x more people unemployed than available jobs, so no one need say that they are lazy and don't want to work.  I gave up being a Christian but most of you who profess to be one should remember the Bible quote about "the least of these" and have some compassion for others not as fortunate as you.  Our infamous Governor has left federal funds on the table that could help many poverty striken children and mothers.  He boasts about jobs in Texas but most of the new ones are minimum wage which keep people in poverty even when they do work to try to support their families.

Ya'll can support Ted Nugent all you want but I am backing Wendy Davis for a better life for everyone in Texas.

David Cordell

Hi, Nancy. I am glad that you posted.

RHS, and our class in particular, was too big. Having 900+ students in one class is not good. Although there were many different activities available, it was very easy to feel left out. My brother graduated in 1963 and there were only 214 in his class, as I recall. My children's classes were in the 400-500 range. I liked that better than our class size.

Divorce must really be difficult. I only recall being aware of one classmate whose parents were divorced. I can't imagine how that must have felt, especially in those days when it wasn't as prevalent.

Sandra Spieker (Ringo)

I would like to address the popular crowd issue that seems to be coming up quite frequently.  For the record, I did not consider myself popular in high school.  My grades were average in most subjects.  I excelled in some subjects, like english, art and science and struggled in math.  I had a hard time understanding how it was possible to succeed in sports and academics like some of the stars in our school.  There was no way I would have been able to juggle so much and come out with any hope of passing school.  My high school mind was focused on myself and my personal struggles.  I only saw what I perceived was perfection in others, while seeing what I did myself as simply average.  Average looking, average intelligence and average social status.  I tried out for Eaglettes every year and got turned down every year, this despite 12 years of dance training.  My senior year I got turned down at finals.  I was dissappointed, devastated at the end.  I moved on and got over it.  Life goes on, and this was not by any means the most horrible event in my life. It was competition at its finest.  It taught me a great lesson.

I have come to understand that people are born with two types of intelligence, and emotional IQ and and intelligence IQ.  Some have more of one than the other and a few are blessed with both.  It takes time to develop the capacity to be strong both emotionally and intellectually.   I believe those popular kids, that excelled beyond belief, had both and the had the forsight to use this to great advantage.  I have to admire that, not be so critical of the ability to do that.  These kids were involved, they joined clubs, volunteered and supported every notion of school and spirit time would allow.  They had passion early on and used it.  They had focus and determination and used it. 

I stuck with what was safe and the least challenging I could deal with.  I was not as focused, and I lacked a great deal of passion.  The only difference between those popular kids and me was my level of maturity and my level of intelligence.  I caught on a bit later is all. 

My father was a very intelligent man.  He worked hard to earn his high school diploma after I was born.  He was brought to this country at age 12 with no english skills.  The kids in the New Jersey school he attended were probably cruel and his family was desparately poor.  He told me a story once how he was sent home from school because a sore on his body smelled bad.  There were 10 kids in his family, they had to sleep in shifts because the apartment did not allow that many in the apartment at one time.  So he stayed out all night from time to time.  My father resented being brought to this country in 1928 because in his native Holland he was a straight A student and loved school.  In spite of all of this he studied on his own, and later became a respected engineer for TI.  He made a great living with no college degree.  Self taught.  What is ironic about all of this, is IF he had not been brought to America in 1928, I would never have existed.  There is a good chance that my grandmother and her kids would have been marched off to a concentration camp somewhere and died.  That didn't happen.  Instead, my father and his family took a huge risk and left all they knew and started over.  No whining just doding.  No looking back and second guessing what might have been. 

I had a few hard knocks as a kid, but nothing in comparison to what happened to my father, or my mother.  She lived through the Nazi occupation in Holland.  On her 14 birthday they took over Holland.  So all this popular stuff is just seems a bit overrated and frankly overblown.  I don't rate it very high on the suffering scale.

To Karen, perhaps we should talk privately, (Go Wendy) I am a bleeding heart liberal, but I try hard not to lean too far, I don't like fanatics and don't want to be labled one.  My spiritual life I keep private and quiet, that way I offend no one.

Bob Davidson

When people talk about being "popular" in school, I think of something my son said when he was in seventh grade.  I asked him why he didn't hang around with one of his best friends in elementary school and he gave me a great yogi-ism:  "Nobody likes him anymore.  He's popular."

Donald Dilmore

I am not sure why I am posting to this or even reading the messages.  I live about 1250 miles from Richardson and have not even driven through Richardson in about 35-40 years.  However, I still have a lot of memories of the 60's and I am still interested in hearing what my classmates are doing and thinking after a almost 45 years.  I will note that marching band and a few friends made life somewhat tolerable during my years in high school and jr. high school.

I read Holly's messages from early today.  Her comments about resilience resonated wth me.  It is one of the traits that I have drawn upon during my life (I'm sure most of you have also relied upon that quality at least a few times in your 60+ years), but I have lived a life surrounded by examples that dwarf my small efforts.  The example that comes first to my mind is my youngest sister, a cancer survivor of more than 50 years.   She went through some very tough passages.  I recall eating lunch in the RJHS cafeteria one afternoon and having  a  friend tell me that his parents thought my parents should just let her go.  I don't know what sustains a young child when almost everybody else was losing hope, but her will to live, my parents' constant care for her, and the efforts of a doctor who came late to the case and dedicated himself to her recovery provided...as acknowledged by the doctor... a miracle.  She currently lives and works in the Washington, D.C. area.

 For the past 21 years I have been employed at a university that is ranked among the ten top instutitions in the nation for its care of students with physical disabilities.  It seems odd that an area that receives, on average, 160 inches of snow each year should be the home to an institution with a large number of students who rely on wheelchairs for transportation, but the facilities staff and the personnel in the Office for Students with Disabilities work together to make it happen. I receive a lot of inspiration from these students.  I rarely cross campus without encountering at least a few students who have lived much of their lives in wheelchairs.   One student, born without legs, relies on a wheelchair during inclement weather, but he uses a skateboard to propel himself, at amazing speeds,across campus during the mild weather months.   A number of them must also deal with other disorders.  A few cannot communicate without the assistance of a keyboard.  I often wonder what the future holds for them, but they are determined to succeed, and they do not ask for sympathy.

Don

Phil Fielder

You can always tell a democrat you just can't tell them much

Don Chester

Holly, you are a brave soul.

I spent sometime in deep S Dallas and in W Dallas during my training.

Parkland had clinics in those areas and they were staffed by interns and residents.

When it was your turn in the barrel, we all would always wear our white coats with stethoscopes and Parkland ID badges, we were less likely to get mugged ( however one of my friends was killed by a pimp because my friend wouldn't write a script for narcotics for one of his working girls.  So the pimp waited for him to come out, abducted him, drove him to an alley and executed him.  Fortunately he was caught and got the death penalty, and he deserved it.)

I always hated working those clinics in the winter, we would usually finish up at 6 to 6:30 and walking to your car at night in those neighborhoods was an exciting experience.  I never had trouble there but it was spooky.

The one time I got shot at, I was working on a gunshot  victim in a trauma room in the ER. Evidently a gang related event, and while I was putting in a chest tube in the guy, the original shooter ran into the er, saw us in the trauma room and came in firing his 9mm semi automatic, emptying a 10 shot clip into the room with about 4 of us working on this guy and of course the original victim.  Thankfully no one was hit, that was a miracle, most of us just hit the floor and security got the guy when he was trying to reload.

I guess my view of the poor changed a lot during those time.  Often people are victims of their circumstances but quite frankly many of the folks I cared for over the years simply made bad choices to end up in bad situations.   I don't know the answer as to how to help but I have been very close to the problem and its not as simple as sending them a check or saying"education" is the magic bullet.

Until parents, especially fathers , get involved and love and care for their children, there isn't a lot of hope that the poor will do better, the culture will have to change and folks will need to get back to a nuclear family to raise kids in a loving environment and to help nurture them to good character.  Simply throwing money at the problem hasn't worked these past 45 yrs on the war on poverty, in fact many of the programs have made things worse.

The whole culture of poverty leaves me empty and sad, and quite frankly I feel pretty hopeless about it.

Jim Richmond

Nancy Anderson! OMG  I was your paperboy delivering the Times Herald years ago.  When I used to collect once a month you would always answer the door! Yes, you were shy. Cute and shy!. I delivered the whole block of Dorothy,Tyler, and blocks beyond.