I remember so many of the places in town others have described, and I remember that Charlie Blaas, Marjorie Setter, Barbara Capper and Judy Sylvester--one of the nicest friends ever--and I did live in the old part of town.  But I felt I'd attained the tiniest bit of cool when I could walk down to the 19th St.  drugstore 4 days a week after LJHS.   My dancing school was in old Holloway(?) Hall above it  and huge numbers of former Cordley kids walked  that way.  Poor beleagured Mr. Harrison, I regret how we all must have shortened his life. We were so noisy and so cheap and it was SO much fun hanging out there.  I coveted the Ambush and Tabu colognes which were way out of my price range at $3.00.  (It took me forever to save my allowance to buy the must-have white, baby-doll sleeved, Ship n' Shore blouse at Weaver's, also $3.00.)  

I remember most of the teachers and I think most of our class too.  Mr. Samson's, where I was seated next to Bill Argersinger in a 2 hr. English/ Latin Class, was a highlight.   Being a professor's kid and therefore one of the smartest, Bill would create the greatest answers to the most boring assignments, sacrificing himself to F's  for the hilarity of  those around him.  I remember Mrs. Gordon, whom I still see often, and her gym class where girls could sit out just by putting MP on their squad cards.  It was mortifying to be as late a bloomer as I was.

I remember so many crushes and actual young love.  And dancing "club style" at parties.   And getting away with so much more at other friend's houses than I ever would have at my own.

 

I remember that my older brother and sisters had gone to live with my grandmother in KC to go to HS and I said I'd rather die than miss LHS.  How could there possibly have been more to look forward to?!  And the prospect of an ALL- GIRL school?  Prison would be preferable.

  

I remember learning to fast dance because there were so many great boy dancers in our class.  Duane Vann, Larry Scheifelbusch, Charlie Blaas, and Jack Allison come immediately to mind.  

I remember learning so young the shock and finality of death. Mr. Westgate, Mr. Morgan, Shirley Davis, Wyona Hurst, Gary Englehaupt.  And the loss of Jack Allison colored these last 50 years for me in incalculable ways,  as I know it  did for so many of you.  When Rich sent those unseen photos from the Life Magazine shoot with Jack in gym class, it threw me into a sorrow for days.  The memory of him just doesn't  fade.  When I went to record my marriage license in 1966 and Jack's mom was still the clerk of the court, I told her that  my husband was a tall, skinny, dark-haired, former basketball player, not my usual "type."  And then, of course, I cried.