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11/22/02
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PHS Alumni On-Line
Nov 22, 2002
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6 Bulldogs today:
Lyle Brewer (`57)
Kathy Hudlow Newsome (`60)
Robert (Bob) Gregson (`60)
Rick Givan (`63)
Kevin Williams (`77)
Michael Wattenburger (`83)

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From: Lyle Brewer (`57)

  If Margaret Love or Adrienne Cowell are "out there," or if anyone who knows them would be kind enough to relay my address to them, I'd like to say hello after many, many years.

Lyle Brewer (`57)
Palm Springs, CA
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From: Robert (Bob) Gregson (`60)

  Mr. Seibert truly was a good guy and good teacher. Bill Stough noted Mr. S's distinguishing dark circles under his eyes, and my recollection is that he told us one time (at junior high chess club, which he started, maybe?) that his facial features changed and he began balding as a young enlisted soldier immediately after liberating/entering one of the major concentration camps in Germany, spring of `45. The horror of it all, up close, affected him intensely.

  I also recall he had a pretty nifty yellow 1954 or 1955 Buick coupe that seemed dazzling at the time.

Robert (Bob) Gregson (`60)
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From: Kathy Hudlow Newsome (`60)

Hi Everyone:
  I never have written, but when I read the articles about Mr. Seibert, something came back to me that I had not thought of in years. One day, in my senior year I believe, I was busy taking notes along with everyone else. As I was taking shorthand also at the time, I was `practicing' my shorthand and taking the notes in shorthand. Of course, I got through with each sentence way before anyone else did, and was staring around the room. After a few minutes, he said "Miss Hudlow, would you please bring your notes and come up here?" I was scared to death, but I went. He asked to see my notes. He raised his eyebrows and said "please read this to the class." I read it, word perfect. He intended to embarrass me I guess, but it never happened.
  Another time, in fifth grade, one of my teachers told all of us to go home and write an article about a wild animal. She warned us, "And don't go home and copy it out of the encyclopedia, because I will know." Well, I went home and I looked up what I wanted to write about. I thought "How can she know if I copy it. She doesn't have these old books like I do." So I copied it, word for word. After she read all the articles, she reminded us of her previous warning. Then she asked me to stand up. I did. Then she asked me this question, "Kathy, what does "devour" mean?" I was dumfounded, because I did not know; but then I knew how she knew that I copied it. How stupid can a fifth grader be?
  Oh, the memories of school in Pasco. I went there all my life, from Kindergarten in a dirt floor quanset(?) hut, to the new high school, graduating with the best class ever, the class of 1960.

  Thanks for your time,

Kathy Hudlow Newsome (`60)
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From: Rick Givan (`63)

  Student body elections were kind of a big deal. I recall lines of voters snaking around the front foyer, where the voting machines were located.
  The incumbents would stand by the booths as poll watchers looking terminally bored, as one photo of Jim Cox, leg draped over a chair, seems to show.
  Campaign posters and banners covered halls and cafeteria. They often showed some talent. Mary Amstadt favored cartoon characters in hers. But she would feature too much plumber's cleavage in her figures. Those didn't last long. The Colonel would march through ripping down the good taste violators.
  Phil Sargent and I were underdogs in the offices we ran for one semester. We decided we needed attention-getters. We put our names and offices sought on enough 4x10 papers that we could tape one to every locker in the school. It took us most of a night. But it looked great heading down the halls the next morning. Unfortunately the kids decided to do all kinds of unusual things with them over the course of the day. Chains of them were hung over the foyer balcony -- they were stuck in unusual lavatory positions. The masking tape in particular was found everywhere. It was a mess. But we had drawn some attention.
  The next morning everything was clean -- like it never happened. Except when I got to my locker, a big empty trash barrel was sitting next to it. As I lifted the locker latch our wadded-up campaign posters burst out like on springs, they'd been jammed in so tight. They covered the floor. Suddenly my rapier-like mind knew what the trash barrel was for. The paper and tape were all over my gear -- stuffed in PE socks -- I glanced down the hall, and saw Hank Meyers, the janitor, standing by one of his closets. Those big rheumy eyes seemed more amused than I'd ever seen them.
  The Colonel never said anything to us. I like to think he admired our improvising. But old Hank had gotten his revenge.

Rick Givan (`63)
Cabot, PA
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From: Kevin Williams (`77)

Hello Fellow Alumni:
  I am still gathering names/addresses of people who may be interested in forming an alumni band. A participant does not need to be a local.

  Feel free to forward this message to anyone you feel may be interested. Thank you.

Kevin Williams (`77)
Pasco, WA
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From: Michael Wattenburger (`83)

  Hi Y'all -- Bulldog Pride is certainly alive!

Michael Wattenburger (`83)
Burbank, WA
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