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7/24/01
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PHS Bulldogs On-Line         Jul 24, 2001
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4 Bulldog alumni notes today:
Rick Givan (63)
Lois Benson Kincaid (64)
Charles E. Olsen (66)
Ron Buckles (67)

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From: Rick Givan (63)

  Betty Benson Morehouse (62) taught reading to Native-Americans around Yakima. I believe she still lives in the Sunnyside area. I later worked with Bill Connerly (62) at Griggs before he joined the Navy, after which I lost track of him. Charlie is Chuck Gove (63).

          BETTY AND BILL

          We went for ice cream
          that sultry night
          in the summer of '61.
          Charlie and me for a spin
          to 24 flavors
          in his '53 Chevy.
          We got our Rocky Roads,
          then sat by the curb
          punching buttons
          from Lloyd's Sock Hop
          on KALE radio,
          To Wolfman Jack
          from Mexico.
          When there they were
          across the street,
          The Homecoming Queen and her Beau,
          Betty and Bill in love.
          Shy hands touched as they walked to his car.
          The joyful gaze they gave each other
          curiously warmed and pained me at once.
          Young hearts leap seeing the look of love,
          yearning to be longed for,
          the way Betty looked at Bill.
          The world seemed younger then,
          fun lucious, warmly hopeful.
          Whatever it is you can get it,
          just reach out and grasp.
          In my rosy recollection
          all those times are summer,
          Grinning sun brims with youthful passion,
          dreams springing from backseat sunsets
          shared at the river in Columbia Park,
          bantering male laughter echoing
          along the cruise line
          from Teenage to Zips
          to A & Dub and back,
          careening down the flume's big splash,
          chattering along high school halls,
          one eye out for principals,
          the other out to score;
          delighting in friendship's womb.
          We would make it we knew,
          whatever it was, we'd be just fine,
          having time to make our marks,
          sharing our lives and loves,
          like Betty and Bill.
          Did the world hold its breath
          to make dreamy days
          of early 60's last?
          Or does time's weary passage
          only make it seem so?
          The nights were warm, inviting,
          not yet dark and dangerous,
          Parents had made our world safe
          for JFK to make us great.
          We weren't burdened with guilt yet,
          or pressured for perfect scores
          to get into upscale schools,
          pursue the fast lane's power.
          Oh, we'd go off to college,
          but as a life adventure,
          not to start the greedy climb.
          Drugs were done in inner cities,
          social disease was overseas.
          Despite our greatest efforts,
          an unhooked bra was the closest
          we could hope to get to Paradise;
          the heavenly touch of one's first love,
          the love of Betty and Bill.
          Suddenly summers were gone
          as dreams exploded in Dallas,
          and visions clouded in Watts.
          Maybe it wouldn't be easy,
          we fretted as we separated.
          Some went off to Vietnam,
          others clamored at campus bars,
          or climbed over ghetto walls,
          scurrying to recapture segments
          of summers here and there.
          Love's search became sardonic,
          what do you want from me,
          just to be your toy?
          Looks of love turned sour,
          even from Betty and Bill.
          He became a Goldwater fan,
          she had other ideals.
          He joined the U.S. Navy,
          fought the Yellow Red menace.
          She made time for Reservations,
          fought for literacy with love;
          Each grew past the stale first joys
          of Betty and Bill.
          Even Our Town's not the same,
          it caught the angry frantic fever.
          Teenage closed as interests flared
          with seamier new passions.
          Uncool ice cream stands
          now turned to ice and snow,
          and angel dust soon
          clogged shuttered streets of home.
          Our first looks of love were gone.
          While others came to renew,
          they were never quite as pure
          as the first
          self-discovering joy.
          Is all that really true
          or more Boomer self-indulgence
          in an ever skeptic age?
          We've settled into aging niches,
          at peace in our smug ways.
          Yet somehow never as hopeful
          as those warmly joyful days
          in the summer of '61,
          sharing the look of love
          of Queen Betty and Beau Bill.

Rick Givan (63)
Cabot, PA
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From: Lois Benson Kincaid (64)

  OK, so the name of the "place across the street from the jr high" - The Tayor Maid, I think. Actually, my first job was there when I was a junior in high school. Fondly remember washing down the booths with purex and dancing around afterwards to "One Fine Day" that we played on the jukebox.
  I lost that job for putting cheese over my fries and lowering the whole thing into the grease! I got caught by the owner - Lou something - who also owned the Bob A Lou on Court.

  Good "life" lesson early on - don't mess with owners.

Lois Benson Kincaid (64)
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From: Charles E. Olsen (66)

  To all you in Bulldog land I am descended from a Bulldog Lucille Harris Class of 1933. I was the fifth Olsen Boy to march through its portals. Preceded by Fred 1957/58 (now in Billings, MT), Ronald 1959 (now in Moses Lake), Lawrence 1961 (now in NH), Richard 1963 (still in Pasco) and Sara 1970 followed me.
  I married Nancy Tingley (1966) whose Dad Robert dropped out to go to work. It seems the vice Principle of the time didn't like him missing so much school or being so tired I forget which.
  After a visit to Iceland care of the US Navy and tour of the southern US paid for by the USDA I find my self south of Atlanta and drive there to identify insects every day.

  I too was intrigued by the name Pasco on the map of Florida. I saw Pasco County on the map while I was in the Navy in 1969. I was going to visit South FL on my way to Norfolk from Pensacola so I went by Pasco and Richland while I rode my bicycle around Tampa Bay. I remember it being very unpopulated at that time. I found a railroad siding with PASCO written on it.
  Last winter my brother Fred took a trip to FL from Billings, MT and while there tried to find Pasco. He got close but no one knew what he was asking about. My son has moved to the Tampa area and we went to take them some things and we tried to find Pasco siding on the way. We found a Pasco Juvenile Jail but I think I missed the right exit. Will have to try it again but there are a lot of houses replacing the cattle on those hills!

  Anyway, if you ever visit from Washington State come by and give us a look. The scenery is similar except our sand doesn't grow anything unless we add water!  But there are not a lot of trees except where they have been planted. And no oranges!!

Charles E. Olsen (66)
Newnan, GA
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From: Ron Buckles (67)

  Lets see, so long ago.

  Mark Gage-and the Pastels, probably the best rock and roll band we ever heard in 1966-67.

  Making out with Kennewick chicks on Inspiration Point, Finley girls at the Finley lagoon.

  Spending our lunch money on beer.

  Don't remember much about Viet Nam.

Ron Buckles (67)
Las Vegas, NV
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