Memories for the W.H.S. Class of ’62 Reunion

Teacher memories (in no particular order):

How intimidating Mrs. Clary was in freshman and sophomore Latin, up there in her little third floor classroom at the "old" high school on State Street, when she spoke those three dreaded words, "Rise and translate!";

Ralph Readout being such a presence in the classroom, despite the fact that we spent most of our time answering the questions that filled his blackboards everyday;

Bob Short's innovative teaching methods and his introduction of trigonometry into the curriculum, all of which paid off in advanced placement in college;

Forrest Becker's patience as band director;

Guidance counselor Fred [?] Hanny, who seemed more like an older brother than a school administrator;

Cornelia (Connie) Nicholson, junior English teacher fresh from the University of Connecticut, who seemed to take a personal interest in each one of us and who even read my short stories and provided feedback and encouragement;

After-school help from Mrs. Ray that made it possible for me to pass freshman algebra (barely) and keep my eligibility for freshman basketball.

Equally memorable were visits that I made, often accompanied by Phil Pearson, to the homes of teachers long after we had graduated, including:

Dalton Lotz, who introduced French 1 and 2 into our curriculum, who was so gracious at his home in Linden near arch rival McKinley High;

Joe Ralston, chemistry and physics teacher and survivor of the infamous Bataan death march, at his ranch home set way back on Route 161 [?] where he confided that he thought I showed promise as a future scientist in eleventh grade chemistry but realized that he had been mistaken after my poor performance in twelfth grade physics (were we drinking beer as we talked???);

Bill Sadler and his wife at their duplex on West Lincoln Street near the Otterbein University football stadium;

Visiting Bob Short at his home on East Walnut Street and being happy to tell him how well his teaching had prepared me for college math at Ohio State;

Even Principal John Mowder, never one of my favorites (Tom Bancroft was a hard act to follow!), received me warmly at his home on County Line Road.

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We were lucky to have had them and many others as our teachers and administrators, even though it took me years, and in some cases decades, to realize it.