'Cat Tracks ... On the Road Again ....

Former Bobcats are in motion ... how much that motion resembles poetry, I will leave to other observers ... but I can tell you that since my hip surgery, I have developed (and am exercising madly to exorcise) a little Charlie Chaplin-like "tilt" to my walk ... also not unlike a penguin's side to side sway. So much for the time some of us devoted to walking with a book on our heads way back in junior high and high school, as we tried to develop the perfect, come-hither (but not TOO close) carriage.

Today's post is devoted to assorted esoterica which may be of interest. I've had e-mails from a couple of 'cat contributors ... and now pass same along for your enlightenment.

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Nicki and Jim are taking some time to visit with friends. She e-mailed last night that her computer time may be curtailed to some extent, so if anyone leaves a "Comment" which does not receive her usual quick review and publishing, be patient. But please don't let this deter ... or excuse ... you from leaving those comments.

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Mike Spradley was in Childress a couple of weeks ago for the Bradford family reunion (his wife Ada's sister is married to a Bradford), which apparently coincided with the latest "All School Reunion" and included a reunion of the CHS Class of 1967. Mike was also away from his office to receive his SEG award in San Antonio this week. Once he catches up, he has promised a couple of really good stories ... one involving him marching naked through the desert with a machine gun and a cohort of female Israeli Army soldiers (I am NOT making this up!), and another having to do with his short stint (along with Jimmy Czewski and Don Seal) as freshman Bobcat cheerleaders (not making that one up either, although I'll bet most of you didn't know it). He also sent word of his latest "Close Encounter of the Bobcat Kind" ... which I post here (in Bobcat blue) with his permission.

During the weekend of the reunion, he ran into Mike (a/k/a Mikey, also a/k/a Hodie) Pennell (CHS Class of 1962) who married a girl from the class of 67…..I told him he was robbing the cradle….

Funny story….you can post if you wish……..I have seen and talked to Teedle two times since 1960…..last time was in July 1988

This past weekend……I am standing in line at the doughnut shop…………..behind me….over my left shoulder…..I hear this voice and I know absolutely positively who it is……………

I turned around……and sho” nuff……there is Glen “Teedle” Sanders……….and I can still recognize that voice after all these years……

We had a great chat……..his sister’s [Punkie Sanders Bradford] kids are actually my nephews and nieces….thru the Bradfords……

Gotta git….

Sprad

I'll just add that the last time I saw Glen Sanders (CHS Class of 1961 ... and no, we didn't go over Thrill Hill at 80 m.p.h. ... I think and hope we're both less foolhardy now) was in Childress just after Paula died. We also had a wonderful visit, despite the occasion, and I can attest that Teedle's voice has NOT changed at all. I was also able to recognize him from a block away. Glen works for the U.S. Postal Service there, unless he has retired since I saw him.

Okay, Mike. Now we're waiting for the stories ....

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Mama Sheila has dipped her toe in the blogwater by leaving a short comment under "Finding Your Voice on the Blog". The toe is still intact, so we are hopeful we may find future "comments" and stories and an update from her. And from you ...?

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And as for me (a/k/a Guinevere the Druid Goddess), I will be out of blog- and e-touch for a few days, making a quick trip to Clarendon to see Shannon and family, and to Childress to visit with Raenell and Dana Purcell (CHS Class of 1960) over lunch, and with my family at the cemetery. When I was young and stupid (probably still stupid, just not young, drat it!), I used to wonder why my grandfather, Papa, spent so much time at the cemetery, so I think he will be particularly pleased to know that I now understand, and am there.

As for the trip itself, I have always loved traveling, of whatever variety. John Masefield (once Poet Laureate of Great Britain) wrote of his need to "go down to the seas again, To the lonely sea and the sky ...." John Gillespie McGee, Jr. perfectly described the longing of aviators and other non-earth bound spirits to slip "the surly bonds of earth and [dance] the skies on laughter-silvered wings ...." My father, who was a bomber pilot during World War II, introduced me to that poem, and to the wonder of flight itself, when I was a child. And I am particularly fond of the ineffable serenity of a long, solitary road trip … the communion of mind and spirit with vast expanses of landscape, haunting desert giving way to mountains and pine and the fresh air of higher altitudes, towering red buttes and mesas, the flat vistas of the Caprock and the Llano Estacado, the lush green of the coastal plains.

To me, there is something spiritual in watching the morning azure sky fading to Columbia blue at midday, darkening again to azure and then cobalt as the “solar boat” reaches its nightly port and the stars blink on one by one. (Jack Kerouac, the uber-Road-ster, posited: "Maybe that's what life is ... a wink of the eye and winking stars.")

Those times of quiet peace seem to me somehow sacred, blessed, transcendent of normal emotions and experiences, filled with thoughts of the past, present and future, and of those we have known and sometimes loved, the living and the dead. It has also always seemed perfectly normal to talk to them then, and listen for their answers in the rushing wind outside the car. Sometimes those answers come to me with complete clarity … and sometimes I get really strange looks from others on the road, watching me carry on an involved and animated conversation with myself ....

As I prepare to leave for Texas, I am anticipating the thoughts that will, as they always do, arise unbidden, and conversations with those unseen ... but perhaps not that far away. Kerouac also wrote: "I hope it is true that man can die and yet not only live in others but give them life, and not only life, but the great consciousness of life." So, if you feel something slipping silently past you on the breeze, “Don’t be concerned, it will not harm you. It’s only me ….”

Catch ya on the flip side, 'lil' buddy ....

LYNN PURCELL DURHAM

Some of us were advised last night (Sunday, September 23) by Lynn's sister Dana that Lynn has suffered another serious stroke. For those who don't know, she had a couple of debilitating strokes about 10 or so years ago, but being our Lynn, through sheer will and determination (and good rehab), she had regained most of her faculties, except for some lapses in memory and some speech problems.

Earlier this year, she had some experienced some Transient Ischemic Attacks (TIA), which are also known as "little strokes." TIAs are caused by a temporary disturbance of blood supply to the brain, resulting in a sudden but brief decrease in brain function, generally lasting anywhere from an hour to no longer than 24 hours. I know these had been of concern to her. In addition, she also had a severe attack of shingles this year, which caused some painful nerve damage. In fact, she was to have undergone surgery today to try and block the nerves which were causing her such pain. I talked with her last Friday, before the proposed surgery, and she was as feisty as ever, just wanting to get the surgery done so she could get on with the things she wanted to do. Among other things, we talked about our trip to Ireland in 2003, and what a wonderful time we had, and how much we wanted to do it again, adding Scotland into the Celtic mix for the next time around. Obviously, it appears this will have to be postponed.

The latest word I had from Dana today is that Lynn has been moved from ICU into a regular room at the hospital, and they may do an MRI to help in assessing the damage. She is pretty much paralyzed on her left side (her dominant side). She can't walk or move her arms (although Dana says she can grip with her hands), her speech is garbled and she is having some trouble with vision and with opening and closing her left eye. At this juncture, they don't know how long she will be in the hospital, or whether she will be released to go home or to a rehab facility. I will post further significant updates on her condition in the "Comments" section hereto. Perhaps some of you might like to leave a comment for her as well and, if so, I will print them and send them to her. Or, if you wish to send her a card, please e-mail me at yahnjenn@cox.net and I will provide her mailing address.

Lynn has not only survived her previous strokes, and other maladies, but she is also a Hurricane Katrina survivor. I know she will be using all of her remarkable strength to get through this, too. Lynn is tough, as she herself would tell you, and she is most assuredly a "diamond" (see my previous post), which is one of the last things I said to her when we talked Friday. Nevertheless, sometimes we all need a little help from our friends to get through the bad times. I am a great believer in the power of good thoughts, so would ask you to send a few her way, as well as to her family.

Bobcat Treasure: Diamonds ... BFFs and Who WAS That Elvis Impersonator?

For millennia, diamonds have been the hardest natural material known to man ... and preternaturally desired by women. Diamonds have been treasured since their use in religious icons in ancient India, and the earliest written reference to them can be found in Buddhist texts dating to about 296 BCE. Diamonds quickly became associated with divinity, and were also believed to bring good fortune to those who possessed them. The Diamond Sutra, the oldest dated print book in the world, printed in the 9th Year of the Xiantong Era of the Tang Dynasty (that's 868 CE to us), references Buddha's metaphor of the "diamond blade that will cut through worldly illusion to illuminate what is real and everlasting ...."

So it seems that true, deep and lasting friendships may be likened to diamonds ... for their indestructability and endurance, for their brilliance and illumination of our personal worlds, for the clarity and color and fire they bring to our lives. Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote: "A friend is one before whom I may think aloud." I cannot imagine a better way to describe friendship. Emerson also compared spare moments to "uncut diamonds", and adjured us to guard such moments well. "Discard them and their value will never be known. Improve them and they will become the brightest gems in a useful life." I believe that some of our treasured spare moments, when shared with cherished friends, are truly among the gemstones, the blessings, of our lives.

The May 19, 1963 Senior Edition of The Corral is a veritable mine of Bobcat Treasure. As I have previously written, I intend to offer these treasures incrementally, and Nicki and I hope they will illuminate a memory you will share, or perhaps light and "polish" a connection with friends from long ago, or that they will simply dazzle you with their brilliance (!) into updating what has happened to you, and your friends who may be mentioned here (or later), since we left CHS. And so, in no particular order, I give you diamonds ....

1963 Seniors Will Be Remembered By ...

Jacky Petty: Singing like Elvis, football player. (Okay, that takes care of the Elvis impersonator .... Last seen by this writer in Childress in 2002, on a somber occasion, listening to our "official" class song, "Sooner or Later" ....)

Nicki Sooter: Mardi Gras Queen, cute. (Blogmeister, still cute, wife of Jim and mother of "cat's meow" ....)

Joe Don Hopkins: Football player, Most School Spirit. (We are waiting for Joe's "spirit" to move him to leave a comment or a story ... Wimberley Weekend Warrier October 2001 ....)

Clara Robinson: Cheerleader, 1962 Homecoming Queen. (Hangin' out in the Hill Country with Don and thanked here for her comments to date ... also Wimberley Weekend ....)

Jimmy Czewski: Trips to Tell, drawing, Corral staff. (An osteopath ... unless I am misinformed ... in Tarrant County ... who taught Sheila's son Robin a few years ago ....)

Betty Smith: Spanish Club, sense of humor. (We'd love to see some of the inspirational poetry she mentioned in her first ... and to date only ... comment to this blog ....)

John Eeds: Most Intellectual, science award. (John, are you out there? Does anyone have any information?)

Sheila Davis: Band President, twirler. (Co-conspirator on the Wimberley Weekend in October 2001, living in Austin ....)

Reed Lockhoof: Golf team, basketball. (Last glimpsed hanging around the Texas Attorney General's Office in Austin ....)

Pat Davenport: Twirler and Freshman Favorite. (Celebrating the "New Year" with her husband Alan in Amarillo ....)

James Claude Holton: DE Club, mechanical drawing. (See the recent photo of James Claude sent by Joe Don ... one picture = thousand words ....)

Jo Ann Neel: Tall, long brown hair. (Living in McKinney, Texas ... north of Dallas for anyone who doesn't know ... going to Paris ... France, not Texas ... in March 2008 with Raenell, Linda Kay and Jennifer ....)


Okay, thhhhhat's all for now, folks!!!!! Looking for comments ....

Bobcat Treasure: Pearls .... of Wisdom ... and Giants and Windmills ...

As Nicki has touted on the blog, I have indeed come across a "treasure" which we intend to put to good use, incrementally, in the weeks ahead. The "treasure" is the May 19, 1963 final (for that school year) edition of our school paper, The Corral. I was Editor-in-Chief of The Corral that year, and as the school year wound down, I gave much thought to (and discussed with the Senior associate editors and reporters) just who in the faculty we would like to write the final editorial, a black-and-white valedictory to our high school years. Not surprisingly (then or now, given that he has been mentioned and has already graced this blog himself), we chose Mr. Morris.

Nicki and I thought that some of you might be interested in reading what Mr. Morris wrote for us, almost 45 years ago, and if you do care to read it, it follows. In later posting increments, I also plan to share what the Senior Edition had to say about us, vis "1963 Seniors Will Be Remembered By ...," what some of our achievements in high school had been, and what our stated plans for the future were. We are hopeful that when you see your name (or the name of a friend) in future " Bobcat Treasure" postings, you may take a bit of time to update us as to what has happened to you or your friend(s) since those days. A few other memories would be greatly appreciated, as well. So, noting its complete relevance to today, as well as its pre-Internet perspicacity, without further ado, I give you in its entirety (I wouldn't dare edit Mr. Morris!) pearls of wisdom.

E D I T O R I A L
by Darryl Morris

Don Quixote was the title of a novel and also the name of the hero of the novel, which was written in the early 1600s by the Spanish author, [Miguel de] Cervantes. Since it was written, Cervantes' masterpiece of burlesque has entertained people of all places and all times.

The book was written to ridicule the absurd stories of chivalry which were so popular at the time of Cervantes. Throughout the tale, with its wealth of comedy and its faithful picture of every class of society in the 16th Century, runs a strain of sadness and keen human understanding. The brave, courteous old gentleman, Don Quixote, his brain filled with the deeds of knights as pictured in the books he had read, ventures forth to seek adventure of his own in a world where knight-errantry is no longer known. With him goes the simple, faithful Sancho Panza, a squire, and together they pass through dangers and many comical episodes until Don Quixote falls ill and dies, after being the object of a great deal of sophisticated ridicule during his life.

One of the most prominent episodes in the book involves the "tilting of the windmills." Don Quixote, in his feverish state of mind, sees large windmills ahead of him and envisions them to be giants who threaten the countryside. Knowing it to be the duty of any knight-errant to slay dragons and/or giants, he charges full speed at the windmills with his lance lowered murderously and his home-made armor clanking resoundingly. There is no need to narrate the outcome of this venture. It was embarrassing - and comical - to say the least.

Each year at commencement time I take my own recollections of graduation day, through college and other sundry involvements, to my present state. And, each time I consider my own graduation, as well as the graduation of the class of 1963, I cannot help but think that Don Quixote rides again.

The seniors of 1963, like myself as a senior of 1956, envision great things to come in the future - great opportunities, great attempts, great achievement. And they, like I once did, leave the safety of the high school classroom to venture out and "tilt the windmills of the world" with their Quixotic lances - the high school diploma.

Thank goodness that the spirit of Don Quixote still prevails. Thank goodness that high school seniors still venture out into the world, confident and unafraid to try the seemingly impossible. Thank goodness also that the majority of our seniors know enough to search for a longer lance after being unseated in their first jousting match.

What is the longer lance? Where can it be found? Will some Lady of the Lake rise up from the waters and present it to the young squire desiring to become a knight? No, the longer lance - the stronger lance - is increased education; an increased education which can be gained in many ways. One's education can be furthered in college, a technical school, or at home. If you do not desire to attend four years of college, there are numerous trade and technical schools which offer short but numerous courses in numerous specialized occupations. Correspondence courses can be obtained, and these offer a wealth of information and opportunity to the student who desires to study at home. Then, too, there is all the world in reading. "Send me a man who reads," say all the successful employers, and they have set about to prove that people who read more, achieve more.

Yes, all of the knowledge of the world has been set down in paper and bound in books. Use it! Sharpen your lances with a higher education and you, unlike Don Quixote, will know the difference between a windmill and a giant.

Close Encounters of the Bobcat Kind ....

Subtitled: Are you from Childress, or are you just inordinately glad to see me?

I have found over the years that one of the nicest ways to reconnect (even briefly) with people we went to school with ... or just Childress people in general ... is to suddenly encounter them in unexpected ... not to say strange ... places and times and circumstances. I have had a few such experiences, and feel that many of you may have, too. So, I am hopeful that after you read this post, some of you will be prompted to share your own tales.

My favorite such encounter, which has become a cherished family story (for reasons which may become obvious ... hee, hee), occurred during the holiday period between Thanksgiving and Christmas 1967, in Colorado Springs. My husband Yahn and I had only met a few months before; at the time, I was living in Denver and he lived in Colorado Springs. Since I had a car and he didn't then, we had a "standing date" that every Saturday, I would drive down, we would go out for dinner and dancing, or to a movie, I would spend the night in my little '67 Mustang (NOT an easy thing to do when you're as tall as I am) and then get together for part of Sunday before I headed back to Denver.

On this particular weekend, I picked Yahn up from his residence hall as usual, and we headed to Guiseppe's, a funky little hole-in-the-wall-type college hang-out, which also doubled as a bar/restaurant. Best pizza in the world (next to Little Italy, across from the Tech campus in Lubbock) and frosty pitchers of draft. Guiseppe's juke box WAS the best in the world, running the gamut from '60s pop, folk, Beatles, Stones and Motown to Dave Brubeck, John Coltrane, Chuck Mangione, "The Warsaw Concerto" and "Chopin's Polonaise."

We settled into our booth and ordered ... and then Yahn somewhat casually (I thought) informed me that we wouldn't have our usual date that night. It seems he had run into some old friends on campus the night before, they were having a party (no females, just guys) that night, and so he would be going "out with the boys" instead. That I was not a "camper happy" about this is an understatement. He did point out that he had tried to call me (no cell phones then, and I could be difficult to reach) but, nevertheless, despite my trek, he would be "out with the boys," and if I wanted to stay over we could get together the next day.

We were involved in a rather heated argument when, suddenly, something caused me to turn around and look over my shoulder ... and there I saw, in his full-dress, Air Force Academy uniform, Franklin Martin (would have been CHS 1962), who I had not seen since about 1961, when his family moved to Illinois from Childress. Franklin and some of his AFA buddies were exiting the bar, but when I called his name, he came over to the table, recognized me, and we became intensely engaged in a rapid-fire game of catch-up. Franklin told me he was a Senior at the Academy, on the swim team (swimmers look VERY good in uniform, and Franklin certainly supported that theory!), and some of what had happened to him since leaving Childress. At a certain point (rather swiftly, I must say), I became aware that steam was rising from Yahn ....

The cadets with Franklin were hurrying him along, but as he was leaving he said: "I would really love to get together later and talk with you some more ... there's so much to catch up on ... but I've got to go now, and I can see you have plans for later." To which I responded: "No, it happens that I'm free this evening." Franklin and I quickly made a date to meet back at Guiseppe's later, and then he left ... at which point Yahn looked at me with considerable consternation and said: "Well, just where does that leave me?" I smiled and (sweetly?) replied: "Out with the boys?"

It was really one of those serendipitous moments ... Hollywood couldn't have scripted or timed it any better. Instant karma!!! Franklin and I had a great date, going to dinner, attending a couple of Christmas parties, and reminiscing and filling in blanks in the past and hopes for the future. Yahn told me the next day that his evening was TOTALLY miserable!!!! Poor baby .... Yahn never canceled a date with me again, and we still laugh about it and tell the story to friends to this day, forty years later. Yahn says that one of the reasons he married me was that he knew I would never bore him ... and I have done my best to live up to that expectation!

Oh What a Night! The Peppermint Lounge

We could have danced all night....if only dancing would have been allowed.

Do you remember any of the old tunes? Share your favorites with us.

Do you remember the dances you would have danced?

How about the Twist?????

Do you remember what you wore?

Did your mother take lots of pictures?

Want to share with us?

Were you the lady in red?

Just in case you forgot what you ate! YUM

The program to help you remember.

Where was Jack Petty? ????

Who remembers what the theme was for the Junior/Senior Banquet of 1963?

Are the Naughty Nine Still Naughty?

Photos provided by Jennifer.

Linda Sally Doyal and JoAnn Neel Lathram, February 2002.

Linda Sally Doyal, Lynn Durham, Linda Kay Bridges Cook and Paula Leach Schubarth,
February 2002

Raenell and Lynn, February 2002

Shirley Neel Cromartie, February 2002.

Freestyle: Bloggers Choice

This is your chance to comment about anything you have been wanting to say or ask.

Enjoy these photos from Clara Robinson Meek. The Photos were taken in Childress at the All School Reunion 2005. Thanks, Clara!




Bettye Shahan Bagley, Clara, Marilyn Harp Taylor class of '62, Marsha Harris class of '64


Bettye Shahan Bagley and Raenell Wynn Smith

Finding Your Voice Deux

Bonsoir! Everyone

I started to say good evening to everyone in the class of ’63, but I know we have readers from the class of ’64, too – Hi Arlyna and Lynn! We love all of you who have chosen to drop by and spend a little time with us. I hope you have put our URL in your favorites list so you won’t forget us. This is going to be my last post for a while, and NO, I am not leaving. I am going to continue to be the administrator for our webspot. I have had a great time setting up the blog, posting and contacting as many of our classmates as I have been able to, but now I think it is time to stop “talking” and get out of the way so the rest of you can have a turn. I was told when I started the CHS blog that getting a blog "going" takes patience and I have plenty of that, I just want to give more of you a chance to have a voice on this site.

I will share a bit about myself before I give it up. While I was in school, I utterly hated having to stand up in front of the class and recite the poems we had memorized. The days I had to do that nearly made me ill! I even hated raising my hand or being called on to say anything. I didn’t begin to move past that horrible feeling until much, much later in life. I absolutely love technology and the ability it gives us to communicate anywhere, anytime without having to stand up in front of an audience. Whereas I don’t like the phone, I do adore email and now I am gaining a huge appreciation for being able to express myself as a blogger. I tell you this “secret” about myself in hopes that it will convince each of you that you too have the ability to express yourself in sharing favorite memories or thoughts with everyone. No one expects each comment to be a work of art, but I do believe that we all have something to share and that is important. I think it would be fabulous if you would at least go to the post “Where in the World is ....the class of ’63” and tell all of us a bit about yourself today—something about your family or your life so we can imagine you where you are today. Send me a photo by email if you like. The most responses that we have had so far comes in the form of comments about your favorite memories so that seems to be a real topic of interest. If you are dying to share an old memory we would be delighted.

Remember, if you are able to send an email, you can write a comment. Comments are just parts of a conversation and it is just that easy.

Finally, as I have said before, Jennifer has been wonderful to share with us. I, along with you have loved reading her posts and comments. I know she has more to share with us and I look forward to it! By the way all French words are for Jennifer and Friends who are practicing French for a trip to Paris!

au revoir!

Nicki

JOYEAUX ANNIVERSAIRE, CHER PAULA !

Yesterday, September 1st, would have been Paula's 62nd birthday. I spent a good part of the day "with" her ... or at least with my memories and thoughts of her. As I am sure most of you have felt about your loved ones and cherished friends, Paula left us far too soon ... or at least "too soon" in our own minds, despite any great universal plan or wheel of life. Although she does come back to me each time I speak her name, or think of her, or call up her image, of course it is still not the same as having my living, breathing friend next to me, to laugh with, and to share confidences and stories as we once did.

Paula was, both literally and figuratively speaking, one of my oldest (she would hate that word even now!) and dearest friends. We met as pre-kindergarten aged children in Sunday School at the (original) Church of Christ in Childress. Some of my earliest memories are of going to her house, or of her coming to my house, after church, to have lunch (usually fried chicken or take-out 'burgers, depending on whether the lady of the house wanted to cook that day), and then playing throughout the afternoon with the joy and intensity that only children seem able to muster. It was through Paula that I first met Linda Kay, who lived in the next block from Paula's house.

Paula, and Linda Kay, and my cousin Linda Sally and I all attended the elementary school attached to what was then Childress Junior High school. I had also known Pat (whose parents were BFFs with my parents, at least for a while) since we were toddlers, and she joined us at that elementary school, I believe in fifth grade. (Linda Sally's mother, Charlotte, was my teacher that year, although I seem to recall there was another fifth grade teacher, as well). When we entered Junior High, Raenell, Shirley and JoAnn gravitated to our little group. Lynn came along a year or so later, and by the time we were all at Childress High School, we were the Naughty Nine!

Anyone who knew Paula remembers her absolute love of and joy in life, her fearlessness in trying new things, her daredevil sense (shared by others of us, for better or worse) that nothing could possibly hurt her. I remember her throwing herself off the high diving board at the City Park pool, practicing until she perfected the swan dive, the jackknife, the tuck, and of course, the cannonball. We were definitely "water babies" who couldn't get enough of the pool, to the chagrin of our parents who had to cajole and/or threaten us to get us out when it was time to leave.

For a time, Paula and I were so close that our families joked that one of us might as well live with the other. The mayhem which could have resulted from that arrangement probably stifled that particular thought fairly quickly.

As all friends do, we had our disagreements and arguments, which could sometimes become quite dramatic. Once when Paula was spending the night with me, we got into some silly argument over some non-essential subject, and I remember Paula grabbing one of my soft stuffed animals and whacking me over the head with it, while I laughed and laughed at the absurdity of the situation. Not even an hour later, we were sharing ice cream, and records, and dreams for our future. That memory will stay with me always, with love, I assure you.

I remember Paula's mother, Lorraine, making Paula's red dress for the "Peppermint Lounge" (our Junior year) Junior-Senior banquet. The dress was drop-dead gorgeous, as was Paula in it, and I hate to think how many hours Lorraine worked on it. Paula went to the banquet with Jackie Petty, and a few years ago I was fortunate to obtain (from Lorraine) a VHS tape (transferred from 8 mm) that showed Paula and Jackie dancing after the banquet. It is truly magical to be able to see her with that red dress swirling with her movements ... and to see the others on the tape ... again, in microcosm, these long years later. At the same time, I obtained a tape (also transferred from 8 mm) from Linda Kay of one of her birthday slumber parties, and there we are, "immortalized" again ... Linda Kay, Paula, Pat, Linda Sally, Pam Hughes, me ... about fifth grade, glorying in fifth grade slumber party revelry. I had the tapes copied together, sequentially, and treasure my copy to this day.

Paula was the Childress friend with whom I was in most constant contact after graduation, although some of the other girls and I had periodic get-togethers, usually when I was visiting there. When Paula was diagnosed with her cancer early in 2001, she inadvertently set in motion a "gift" for the rest of us. I've related previously in this blog (the "BFF" section) how the Naughty Nine (and other friends) all came together one last time as a group, on February 5, 2002. And, after we lost our Paula a few short months later, we were moved to reconnect the bonds of friendship, and most of us nuture those bonds to this day.

At Paula's funeral, in May 2002, her family honored us by insisting that our group enter the services separately, just before the immediate family, and we were seated in a separate section, also at the direction of Paula's family, in loving acknowledgment of our "special" relationship with Paula. Jimmy Smith (Raenell's husband) sang "Peace in the Valley" so perfectly that there was not a dry eye in the house ... not that there were many, anyway. And I ... and the girls ... felt SO honored and surprised that as part of the eulogy, at the family's request, the minister read something that was especially written to place beside and then put into the casket with with Paula, bearing all our signatures. It said, in part:

"We were the Nine ... the 'Naughty Nine' as we liked to style ourselves in those more innocent and carefree days, before pain, and age and life itself swept us up and carried us along, caught in its inexorable current. Not really 'naughty', but more adventurous, and full of fun, and eager to challenge the world and make it our own. We grew to the edge of maturity together, and grew to love each other, and fought with each other, and fought together against those who didn't understand, or didn't care, or were thoughtless or cruel. We were the Nine.

"Time passes, and friendships fade, but throughout the years, there has been a bond that tied us, one to another, even unto death ... even to this day, and beyond. Paula is our first lost sister. But each of us will follow, in our turn. And yet, somehow, the Nine remain, the Nine endure.

"We were the Nine, we are the Nine, we will be the Nine again, when all of us have embarked on that same journey that now takes Paula from this place and time. ... We who remain wish her bon voyage ... until we meet again.

"We are the Nine."

Raenell, Shirley and I rode with Lynn to the cemetery service, lost in our own thoughts and memories for the most part. Lynn parked the car (I was "shotgun", as usual) and we walked slowly toward the grave site. After a few minutes, Lynn and I were looking around, wondering what had happened to Raenell and Shirley. We both looked back at the same time, and saw Rae and Shirl frantically beating on the back window of Lynn's car. Lynn had accidentally locked them in the back seat by tripping the locks as she exited the car. And I believe I could hear Paula's laughter carried on the constant wind ....

Nicki and I discussed this topic before I posted, and we are both hopeful that some of you will add your thoughts, and comments, and memories of Paula. Or, if there is someone of the class you wish to memorialize, please do so. The blog is a marvel, and a wonder, and a means of time travel ... from the past to the present, and ideally into the future. At the risk of redundancy, we truly want to hear your voices ....