1963 – 1964 Lad and Lassie TARTAN Features

The Lad and Lassie feature in the EH student newspaper, THE TARTAN, are interesting reading and provide a glimpse of a number of young people just at the beginning of their adult life, now over 50-years ago.

There were 14 of these features published over the 1963-64 school year; all of them are published here.  I have no idea how the subjects were chosen, but do recognize that they are some of the more prominent members of the 1964 class. 

Last year’s Class of 1963 Lad and Lassies are HERE.

Steve Rose & Barbara Isham:

Ted Harris & Nancy O'Neill:

Leslie Jackson & Brenda Haire:

Steve Marsh & Sandra Vasquez:
 

Ted Moberg & Myriam Hubbard:

Stewart Mathis & Charlyne Woodard:
 

Roby Morris & Bee Sterett:
 

David Thurman & Sheila Ward:
 

Bob Hillert & Vickie Reas:
 

David Richardson & Sherri Sledge:
 

Mike Liddle & Donna Johnson:
 

Randy Kunze & Sylvia Callaway:
 

Tim Blocker & Karen Buckingham:
 

Buzz Gardner & Jere Miller:
 

Adios

Future Portent

Fifty-four years ago the 1960 Meadowbrook Awards were awarded to Steve Means, Mike Grizzard, Joe Dickerson, Susan Begley, and Sherry Balthrop. The Meadowbrook Award recognized 5 students whose grades were in the top 5% of their 9th grade class (of 220 prox) and who received the highest number of votes from ballots cast by the faculty.

Sherry went to Fort Worth Christian Academy while the other 4 all graduated magna cum laude with the 63 Highlanders. Steve became a successful Dallas commercial real estate developer, Joe and Mike became doctors, and Susan became an artist. That 1960 faculty vote was a pretty good predictor of future potential.

(Gus note:  This article was one of the first published to the blog in 2006.  It has taken 8-years to locate a good photo of this rare award.  Two of our '63s were unable to locate theirs, one has gone on to Buffalo heaven, another hasn't been in touch, and the fifth went to FWCA and no clue after that.  Thanks to our fine EHHS Class of 1964 and Nancy O, one of her Buffalo Class of 1961 recipients. for the image...it's been stored away on a charm bracelet for a long time.) 

The  1961 Meadowbrook Awards (EHHS Class of 1964) went to David Tracy, Nancy O'Neill, Carl Johnson, Carolyn Mitchell, and Barbara Isham.  At EHHS graduation one of these students graduated with Summa Cum Laude honors, three with Magna Cum Laude honors, and one Cum Laude.

Margaret Farrell - 1962

A ’64 Highlander sent in several terrific pieces which will be incorporated in this blog over the next few entries.  This one about Margaret Ferrell, a ’62 Highlander, is the first of them, mostly because I also knew Margaret and always thought very highly of her. 

Margaret was a strikingly beautiful girl with luxuriant black hair that really rivaled that of TV’s early Mouseketeer heart throb, Annette Funicello.  Margaret’s desk was next to mine in a 1960-61 class where we became class friends and I got to know well her kind heart and gentle nature.  But alas, I was just a lad of 15 and Margaret was an older woman of 16, so I never held out any hope of dating her.  I had forgotten that she was a Meadowbrook cheerleader until the following reminisces were sent in by a 1964 Highlander…..At EHHS, Margaret was a member of NHS and achieved the Leonard's Star Award all 3-years....

CJ64--In the fall of 1958 Meadowbrook Junior High was no more than 4 years old.  Until its completion, the Meadowbrook Elementary building housed grades 1 through 8 or 9 (I’ve forgotten which).  The junior high building was located across Meadowbrook Drive from the elementary and was typical 1950s architecture, long and flat and rectangular, with nondescript pink-orange brick.  It looked nothing like the classic architecture of the elementary, which is a beautiful building to this day.

The junior high housed grades 7, 8, and 9.  Grades 7 and 8 were taught the end courses of the traditional grammar school, while the 9^th grade received the high school curriculum (hence “junior” high).

My first memory of my first day as a 7^th grader was our pep rally in the auditorium.  We walked into the auditorium with the band blaring “The National Emblem March”.  (Seems like every pep rally from then on through high school featured this march at entry).  Like all good marches this one boasted several memorable melodies.  The second melody was the one where we all used to sing “Oh, the monkey wrapped his tail around the flag pole, round the flag pole, round and round…).  We were all handed a mimeographed sheet with the school fight song and alma mater on it.  Once seated, the band played our alma mater, to the tune (and many of the words) of the Ohio State alma mater:

Oh, come let’s sing to Meadowbrook’s praise,

And songs to alma mater raise.

While our hearts rebounding thrill,

With joy which death alone can still.

Summer’s heat or winter’s cold,

The seasons pass, the years will roll.

Time and change will surely show,

How firm thy friendship,

Buffaloes!

Next came the fight song, to the very familiar tune from Sousa’s “Field Artillery March”:

Through the rain, through the hail,

We will hit the beaten trail

As those buffaloes go galloping along.

Watch us march, to the top,

We will never, never stop

As those buffaloes go galloping along.

For it’s one, two, three

We’ve won the victory!

Buffaloes are always, always strong!

And where’er we go, you will always know

That those buffaloes are leading the throng,

Keep ‘em leading!

That those buffaloes are leading the throng!

Anyway, maybe they were corny, but like most kids, most of us thought they were very stirring.

Next came the first cheer, and my introduction to Margaret Ferrell.  Margaret was the first cheerleader on the left as you faced the stage.  She wore a white sweater with a green megaphone superimposed with a gold M, a knee-length white pleated skirt, bobby sox, and black suede loafers.  She had dark, short curly hair combed into a ducktail, large dark eyes, a turned up Irish nose, curvy lips, and a cute figure.  She was gorgeous, and I was hopelessly in love for the first time in my life.  I have no memory at all of any of the other cheerleaders.

  The first cheer (always the first cheer, as we later found out), was Twirl My Turban:

Well, twirl my turban, man alive!

Here comes Meadowbrook’s super tribe!

Do we love ‘em, well I guess,

Meadowbrook, Meadowbrook, yes, yes, yes!

Hey, Hadden, Hadden, he’s our man,

If he can’t do it,

Reynolds can!  Reynolds, Reynolds, he’s our man,

If he can’t do it,

Brown can!

(and so forth, through each cheerleader).  The names above referred to the football stars, of course – Dave Hadden (halfback), Don Reynolds (quarterback), and Doug Brown (end).  After the “yes, yes, yes!” Margaret turned sideways to her left, raised her right arm straight up, yanked it down to form a right angle, and yelled “Hadden, Hadden” at the bottom of the yank while turning back to face the audience, then turned it over to the next cheerleader to pay our respects to Mr. Reynolds, and on down the line.  Margaret was always first and always started off with Hadden.  I don’t know why or how she chose Hadden, as they were never a couple, but she always did.

I worshiped Margaret Ferrell throughout the entire 7^th grade.  She graduated and moved on to Eastern Hills High and was there as a senior when I was a sophomore, but the crush did not survive the transition.  That was mainly Suzanne Hoffman’s doing, who was a junior cheerleader in high school when I first met her.  She walked right up to me on the first day of high school and pinned one of those spirit ribbons on me (Beat Haltom!), and flirted with me, a mere sophomore, and I was hooked again.  Suzanne was tall, dark, and gorgeous with long pretty legs and an effervescent personality who I later got to know better when we both worked at Six Flags Over Texas (I was still hooked).

Anyway, I’ve always wondered what happened to the lovely Margaret Ferrell.  I hope wherever they both are that they have led very happy lives.

Tri-Sagas at Sagamore Hill - The McCoys & McCooks

(Gus note:  Another amusing recollection written by Danny recalling his early memories of befriending Kendall; this one covering their first meetings and baseball.  Other words about these two friends of mine have been published in the blog…..Kendall’s A Song for Leo….and one I wrote recalling both of them.  Good kids, good men.)

 Tri-Sagas at Sagamore Hill 

by Danny McCoy

After the fall semester of my 7th grade at William James High School we moved from Avenue A in Poly to Hampshire Blvd. The new house provided more room for our family of five. Ronnie and I still shared a room, but our younger sister, Jana, now had a room for herself. The lot was deep enough so that my dad fenced in an old chicken yard so that his horse, Sliver, also had a new corral. Silver served dad well as he was a member of the Mounties in the Moslah Shriners.

Across the street on Hampshire was the Sagamore Hill Baptist Church parsonage for Pastor Fred & Elizabeth Swank.  They had a double lot which provided spill over parking when committee members or others from the congregation came to visit.

I soon discovered the McCook family who lived a block away. We immediately had a kinship. Kendall was my age and he too had an older brother named Danny who had enrolled in the new Eastern Hills. My brother Ronnie chose to remain at Poly High School. Kendall and I would often walk to my new Junior High, Meadowbrook. We went through the football spring training and spent several summer mornings at Sagamore Hills Elementary.  If I recall, Kendall, soon to be the new quarterback would stand in the shade on the playground and throw passes as I learned the right end post routes - slant, stop & go while trying to catch passes in the sun. We went on to play together at Meadowbrook and our team won the City Championship in 1959.

Kendall also introduced me to Sagamore Hill Baptist Church. Although my family was active members at Ash Crescent Methodist Church, Sagamore had more extensive and active youth programs. They were constantly recruiting young Christian soldiers. You did not have to be a member to participate in the program, but you had to be in attendance at a church function at least once a week. So for the summer of 1959, I was to become a Royal Ambassador.

The Reverse Steal

Sagamore was part of the church softball league in Fort Worth.  On our team I was assigned to Right Field. In the major leagues Right Field is reserved for the big sluggers such as Josh Hamilton. In the church league, Right Field was for the weakest of the nine players. In practice I could only manage to catch 80% of the pop flies that came my way. And since it was embarrassing to drop a ball now and then, I would move close to the edge of the infield.  The thought process was that if the ball was hit over my head, my teammates would be more tolerant and tolerant of my occasional drops.

So one summer night while swatting mosquitoes, the batter hit a sharp single that took one bounce into my glove.  I turned to throw to Second base as coached. But since I was already so close to the infield, I redirected my throw to First.  The runner was out and my fellow teammates who had poor depth perception let loose with enthusiastic shouts for the perceived power of my newly found strong arm. As the inning ended and as in most memorable defensive efforts, the player that performs well seems to come up to immediately bat. So as I brushed off the congratulatory comments in the dugout, I picked up a discarded bat and headed for home plate.

On the very first pitch I hit a strong chopper down the Third base line. It was just high enough that I was able to beat out the throw for an infield hit.  There were no First or Third base coach for base runners. We were on our own. So in a lull I easily stole Second base. My teammates were now supporting my renewed presence on the field.

Within this unique moment a fifteen year old teenager standing on a field-of-dreams can be somewhat confused and teeter between self-confidence and over-confidence. Teenagers can be cocky and arrogant at the same time. And they can be both naturally annoying and so was I.

So in was in this self-centered moment with the Second Baseman keeping me close to the base, I decided to steal another base. This time I opted for First base instead of Third base since it was going to be somewhat easier. So with a sudden burst of speed and a cloud of white dust I slid back into First base. At first I suspect that everyone thought I was heading to the dugout, but when I remained, dusting myself off and standing on the base the two umpires came over to discuss this unique situation. The play eventually stood and it was my first reverse steal!

After the forced confusion, play continued and I was just determined to steal Second again as they were not to let me. With the encouragement of my excited and now befuddled teammates,

I put on a bit of an obnoxious agitating show at First base. The pitcher was intent on preventing me from stealing again. He tried to pick me off several times. It was during this distraction that he ended up walking the second batter.  I was now back on Second base and it was a magical moment.  There was no end to my taunts.  I quizzed the Short Stop and the Second Baseman.  Have I been here before? And for the first time in my young life I was able to use a foreign word in the correct context:   Does this seem like deja vu to you too?

The bizarre inning came to a close when one of our better players hit a double and the score was now 2 to 0.  As I made my triumphal return to the dugout, the coach pulled me from the game and sent me to the bench (something about lack of Baptist sportsmanship).  His lack of understanding of the purpose of the game most likely limited any future coaching opportunities for him. I of course will always remember my reverse steal. It also reminds me to always review where you have been and the consequences that got you where you are today.

Bible Sword Drill

This educational religious exercise is not as wide spread as I first thought. When I retell the story to other Sword Drill participants there seems to be different rule variations in the many conferences.  Early on I had read the entire Bible as part of the challenge of the Methodist Youth Fellowship. There was probably a free pizza incentive included. At that point it was the only biblical competition that I was aware of.  But the Southern Baptist had a nifty way to get their youth to know the Good Word.  In the competitive Bible Sword Drill youngsters would line up on the stage or next to the altar steps waiting for the instructions:  Soldiers of Christ draw your swords.  We would then pull up our Bibles that were at our side and prepare for the challenge.  When any event was offered at Sagamore, Pastor Swank would always do it right.  When he announced from the Sunday night pulpit that the winner of the Sword Drill would get to go free to summer camp at Latham Springs, he had my complete attention - even without the Ritalin.  Latham Springs Baptist Camp & Retreat just southeast of Hillsborough was a sought after destination. 

Since I was not a member, I had to get permission from the Youth Committee to compete. With limited funds at home, this would be my only opportunity to join my friends for a week of fun interrupted by brief gospel moments.  I was focus on my goal.  After several qualifying rounds, I somehow managed to be included in the final twelve contestants. My Bible was old, but I was familiar with the index and there was an identifiable indention between the Old and New Testaments.

As we stood before the congregation, I noted that there were more girls than boys. I just knew that one of those non-dating, studious females was going to interfere with my fun in the sun.

The three judges explained the rules, but they were somewhat confusing. A scripture would be called out and the participants would have to locate as quickly as possible the chapter and verse.  The proctor would say:  2nd Corinthians, 7th Chapter, 11th Verse. At that point the student soldier would step forward prepared to read on request:  It is difficult to be confronted with our sin and -

If you were the last one to step forward or if you somehow read the incorrect verse, it could be a cause for elimination. And although if you were the first one to step forward that did not necessarily mean that you would be the first required to cite what you had located. The judges would also randomly select as a touchstone, different contenders to read to make sure all were participating honestly.

After a rather long anxious session we were down to the Final Three.  I started to feel the cold water at Latham Springs caressing my body; taste the early morning hot pancakes with maple syrup; singing Kum Ba Yah while consuming campfire baked endless s’mores; visualize my canoe gliding across the lake; eating the gospel bird on Sunday signifying the end of the camp or capturing a glimpse of a mystery wispy Dallas girl with her long hair and freckles on her  . . .   And suddenly my private serene moment was interrupted by  Proverbs, 23rd Chapter, 23rd Verse  . . .

I was just on the final precipice to reach of my summer goal.  Only two girls stood in my way. Chapter and verses were now being called out in rapid fire. In this final stage of the competition the congregation could sense that the Drill was coming to a close. I had step forward for three times. I was first on one and second on the other two. Yet, all three times, I was the one singled out to cite the required verse.  On the fourth verse request, I just knew they would not call on me for four times in a row. So as soon as the chapter and verse was called out, I fumbled a bit and step forward. The two group daters shyly followed behind me. So I was startled when the judge called out my name for the fourth straight time!

Those that were there that summer night including myself were not quite sure what happened next.  Did I actually find the 23rd  Verse before the Bible somehow fell from my grip or was it just an adolescent ruse?  Did God intervene to cause the Good Book to tumble in slow motion to the floor so that a Methodist boy could best the Baptist at their own game?  The judges gathered to discuss. Nothing like this had ever happened before. 

There was a restless mummer in the pews.  A dark shadow approached and hovered over the judges table. Then an announcement was made: The judges have decided that all three of you have won a free trip to summer camp!

As I had expected the camp was just as great, thanks to my neighbor. Yes, it was Pastor Fred Swank that had risen from his seat to convince the judges to allow the McCoy Boy free passage. Even then we knew Pastor Swank was legendary.  During his 42 year tenure, he was a catalyst for over 100 young people who entered the ministry.  When asked what was behind the success and rapid growth of his ministry. He replied that it was very simple and it could be summed up in 4 letters:  C A M P.  Amen Brother Swank

The Whisper

Our Baseball coach at Sagamore Hill Baptist Church was the Assistant Youth Director. He was also the Basketball coach; taught a Sunday School class; work with the youth choir; served as Camp facilitator; hosted fund raising activities; offered counseling services; sponsored a Boy Scout troop and was in charge of the Royal Ambassador program. He was not that multi-talented, he just seemed to want to be around young people. The Church provided his housing near the east parking lot. So he would always available for those of us who did not have transportation to all the events.

When we were returning from the baseball & basketball games, we would occasionally go Billboarding (this is where each one of us would select a billboard and become a part of it as the others would turn around and drive by for the full effect). You could climb up and pretend to be stuck on a buttered slice of Mrs. Baird’s Bread or have your behind burned by the cancer stick the Marlboro Man was holding. There were always plenty of laughs and we were always treated to late night fast food snacks. It was our only chance to cruise like the California kids.

There was an informal, unorganized game that we played on the way home, called the Whisper. It goes something like this:  At the next stop sign get Mike which was code for jumping on Mike; taking all of his clothes off except for his BVDs or Fruit-of-the Looms; pushing him out of the car and leaving him on the side of the road or the median. Of course we would eventually turn around and pick him up or if we decided to extend this hilarious adventure, we would do repeat drive-bys and throw out clothing articles and sometime it would be his own clothes! Note that  if you did not receive the Whisper, it meant that you were the target.

Kendall and I had little to worry about. We took care of each other and if the Whisper happened to be one of our names, we deflected and change it back to some other unsuspecting pimple face peer.  And because we lived close to each other, we were always dropped off together. We had already learned and out instinct was  never be the last one to be taken home. 

Then one night when we were in the middle of the back seat rugby scum in search for the victim’s clothes, Kendall and I caught a frightening sight. Our Assistant Youth Minister had an excited leering look that we had never seen before. It was very creepy. The Whisper had turned into something else. As the whispers grew and questions were being asked, the Assistant was soon assisted off the church campus.

Movie, Museum & Memories

Movie, Museum & Memories

by Danny McCoy

If you grew up in Fort Worth you may be inclined to occasionally utter: fixin' to, bless your heart or Bigger than Dallas.  Our Cowtown seemed to always be in the shadows of Dallas.  In the 60s my brother and I jointly wrote a movie review column in the weekly college paper,  The Reel McCoys.  We caught the latest offbeat or independent flicks at the neighborhood movie theaters, Ridglea, Bowie and the Seventh Street Theater which was a preferred destination with Kleinschmidt Bakery and the Carnation Restaurant close by.  We would take our dates to the newest movie openings on 7th Street in Fort Worth. We attended many movies and double features at the Worth, Hollywood and Palace. For over 35 years Monroe Odom sold the Star-Telegram sitting on his canvas chair outside the Worth Hotel. After a late Saturday night movie, you could always get a fresh Star-Telgram’s Sunday edition from Monroe on your way out of the movie. When Amon Carter died he remembered Monroe in his Will with $250. Bob Schieffer who wrote for the Star-Telegram prior to CBS remembered that Monroe would sometimes come to the city desk and complain that he could not sell papers if we didn’t put better headlines on them!  On November 22, 1963, Monroe Odom finally had a headline that would sell all the papers that he could get his hand on. 

When we had writer’s block which quite often or were behind an approaching deadline, we would arrange for a quick double date for a movie in Dallas. At only 28 miles away plus $1.20 on the I-30 Toll Road we would take in a premier in Dallas. For the longest our collegiate readers thought that we really had a Hollywood connection. It was generally not known that Dallas got all the new movies first. Sometimes the same films would open a week or two later in Fort Worth.  We thought we were super cool to be the first on our campus to see and write about the newest James Bond flick.

So Dallas too had its movie row. The Tower, Melba and Majestic were all in close proximity on East Elm. The Majestic auditorium had a blue sky semi-dome ceiling with painted white clouds. After the organ music reached its coda and the lights begin to dim as the red velvet curtains were slowly opening, those of us from Cowtown who was still gazing up at the ceiling, a bit slack jaw, would also be amazed at the  many embedded lights that began to flicker as faux stars.  Yes, Dallas was bigger and brighter than Fort Worth.  In the summer of 1963 at the Tower we saw Elizabeth Taylor roll out of a Persian carpet on to the big screen as she became Cleopatra. Later in November only fourteen blocks west on Elm Street the Dallas shadow and the lights became darker.

Fifty years later we took a trip to the Sixth Floor Museum in the old Texas School Book Depository, to reflect and refresh the memories of JFK in our two hyphenated cities. Prior to his Texas trip, the young President had raised the ire of the ultra-elite  in Dallas. They had jointly determined that President Kennedy was soft on communism; moving forward with the Civil Rights Act and would soon be limiting their tax loop holes for Big Oil. This very thought infuriated Dallas Morning News Publisher, Ted Dealey; General Edward A Walker - a staunch segregationist; Nelson Bunker Hunt and even Harvey Bum Bright - oilman and future owner of the Dallas Cowboys (which may contribute to the reason so many still hate the Cowboys today). They ran a full paid negative ad on President Kennedy on page 14 of the Dallas Morning News. The Sixth Floor Museum highlights the events of those associated with the American Fact Finding Committee, the Indignant White Citizens Council, Sons of the Confederate Veterans and the John Birch Society.

And if you have made it this far, here is your free Reel McCoy Movie Review:

Parkland is now available on DVD and at Redbox. It is about JFK’s fateful weekend in Dallas. It features Paul Giamatti as Abraham Zapruder and Billy Bob Thornton as Secret Service Agent, Forrest Sorrels. You should also recognize a familiar face known as Marcia Gay Harden in her role as an Emergency Room nurse. Parkland was made in Texas, but the Producer was Tom hanks whose son, Colin Hanks, plays one of the doctors.  See if you can spot him.  We did a fact check and the movie follows a factual thread.  Parkland is a must see prior to the JFK 50th Anniversary. 

Where were you when President Jack Kennedy was assassinated?

Send in the Class Clown

Send in the Class Clown 

by Danny McCoy

In March 1960, I appeared in my second Stars Over Meadowbrook. From the previous year it was obvious that I had limited talent. I was assigned a role as Co-Masters of Ceremonies.  Bob Larmer and I were Circus Barkers. Actually the only reason that I was allowed back-to-back performances was because my mom was a seamstress and had found enough extra money to buy the expensive reflective fluorescent fabric that glows in the special black lights. So I was available with a ready costume.

My striped jacket with a matching, bow tie and hat band would all glow in the dark along with all the sets that were painted in

day-glow paint. The PTA moms had spent a lot of money on the black lights. Every Act focused on blazing glowing costumes instead of the talents of the dancing girls. So for the most of the time the smiling benign faces of our adolescent thespians were lost in darkness except for my mugging in front of the curtain and apron floodlights

The role of the Barker was to warm up the audience; introduce each act; and to ad-lib when the stage crew needed more time for setting the scenery or in the event there was a costume malfunction.

In reflection of my adolescent memory and of course the black lights, I only excelled in adlibbing.  One of the filler jokes was to introduce the sponsors and special guests in the audience and asked them to stand.  If the Stage Manager needed more time, I would simply introduce more people which I made up on the fly. 

One night I felt compelled to introduce Henry Ford Jr.

We have a very special guest tonight, all the way from Detroit Michigan. Let’s give a warm welcome for Henry Ford Junior. The audience would turn their heads and look around. There would be scattered applause. The spotlight would sweep all sides of the auditorium. Barker Danny said: Mr. Ford, don’t be shy, so please stand up.  After several painful pauses Barker Danny said:     That's funny, I saw one of his cars parked outside!

 

I Came As Fast As I Could

I Came As Fast As I Could 

by Danny McCoy - 2013

1963

Near the end of my Senior year at Eastern Hills High School I had already dropped out of Chemistry and substituted another Speech/Drama class so that I could at least have enough High School credits to make the entry threshold for college. At some point I was going to be a TV weatherman, but it became obvious that I would not be able to pass the core courses for a meteorologist.  I had some exposure to the green screen and knew that I would be able to fill some air time about the different shape of clouds, but they too were hard to pronounce.

So I had to persuade the drama teacher, Miss Alzora Jeffords, to take me in and let me transfer into her class although it was almost three weeks into the spring semester. She agreed, but only if I would commit to play a part in the Senior Play.  I of course graciously accepted.  All through high school I had always played the part of the Teacher’s Pet very well, except when I entered John Ross’ Chemistry Class – I was suddenly out of my elements.

The play that Miss Jeffords  selected was The Mouse That Roared.  I could not believe my luck. A few years earlier I had seen the movie version where the great comedian Peter Sellers had played the lead role, Prime Minister Count Mountjoy, and even some smaller roles at the same time. Sellers was always at his best in the Pink Panther series. I felt that I too could mug a lot and easily adlib my way through an amateur stage play.

Least your forget because you may have been distracted by my stellar performance, the plot summary was as follows:  A very small country, Grand Fenwick, decides that the only way to get out or their economic woes is to declare war on the United States, lose and accept foreign aid. They send an invasion force with Robin Hood type foot soldiers with bows & arrows and a questionable Q Bomb, a football size weapon with the destructive capacity of a hundred atomic bombs.  Of course the United States surrenders; no aid is received; the scientist daughter gets married; America discovers that there were no weapons of mass destruction, but they have a taste for Grand Fenwick’s wine and their wine exports saves the county.

Early into rehearsals it became obvious to my fellow cast members that McCoy was not always prepared. If he was going to carry the play, he probably should remember his stage directions and memorize his lines. So at one point the Director cast Dennis Smith into the lead role. She placated me by allowing me to be the Understudy and I would have a secure position as 3rd Soldier.  You may not know this -  all actors when they get a script count the number of lines that they will be reciting.  Dennis had 672 lines (I still do not know how he remembered all of them).  My count was a bit easy. I had to flip through the script twice and both times my count came to 3 lines. After all these years, I still maintain the skill set to remember them:  (1)Yes Sir ; (2) They went this way and (3) I came as fast as I could.

Recently, I located Dennis Smith. Currently, he is Pastor Father Dennis Smith at St. Elizabeth Ann Seton Parish at 2016 Willis Lane, Keller, Texas near North Tarrant Parkway and Denton Highway. I plan to visit him. At EHHS Dennis had bright red hair; would often wear a bowtie, sometimes carried a brief case; could also carry a tune and had a great personality. But because he was very smart, I often sat next to him in various classes. He would never let me cheat off of him, but he would frown when I would show him one of my test answers.  If he continued to be annoyed, I would change my answer from True to False.

On the night of the play, all of the scenery was in place and I became accustomed to wearing the  green tights. As it turned out the Director had to make a last minute change.  There was a set change problem. So we all had to improvise. During the 2nd Act after Scene 3, Scene  4 was going to have to be performed on the stage apron right next to the flood lights with the curtain closed behind us.  The Director told us to don’t rush our lines. The stage hands needed the time to set Scene 5.

So Count Mountjoy (Dennis Smith ) entered from stage right with the 1st & 2nd soldiers. They had a conversation about the impending invasion and then Count Mountjoy said my cue: Captain, come here I need you!  He repeated it two more times. As I came bolting out from stage left Count Mountjoy said: Where have you been? It was at that point I gave my final line: I came as fast as I could!  As I remembered it, the audience howled. It may have been the biggest laugh of the play or at least in Scene 4.  To enhance my role, I had taken a roll of toilet paper, stuffed the end in my green tights and allowed it to unroll and flutter behind me like a white contrail as I delivered my line: I came as fast as I could.

As I reflect I would like to thank my fellow classmates for their contributions in ministry, in the medical field, in legal services, as teachers and as professionals in their communities. We all made a difference. It was that night that I learned there are no small roles just small actors.

We all contribute in small ways.

(Gus note:  Danny's humor was well ahead of his time.  After EHHS, he got a gig on the "Phil Donohue Show" and I'm sure continued to amuse himself and others with his witty take on daily life.  This piece very well describes a bit that Buford T. Justice immortalized in "Smoky and the Bandit."... nearly 15-years after Danny's performance !) 

Danny & Kendall - 2013

Handley Junior High Superlatives

Handley, in 1959-60, was in its first year as a stand alone Junior High school; the 10th, 11th, and 12th grades were moved to the new Eastern Hills school building.  The yearbook in which these pictures were published was a paperback publication, Meadowbrook didn't have a similar book.  

And following just behind us were members of the future EHHS Class of 1964 who shared the halls with us for a couple of years.

Adios

Danny McCook - Class of 1961

Danny was Kendall’s older brother and he passed away a few days ago.  I didn’t know him at EH and only shared the halls with him for one year.  However, as one of the little kids, a Sophomore when he was a Senior, I did see him in the locker room as we suited up for football practice each day during fall 1960.  He was a serious, quiet kid who exuded with his demeanor, a comfortable competence.

Danny went on to earn his second EH letter that year, All-District Honorable Mention honors, as well as NHS, WHO’s WHO, Favorite finalist, and graduated Magna Cum Laude.  I’m sure there were other honors that probably escape me.

More recently, summer 2010, as I first started experimenting on FaceBook, there was Danny, already there…I asked him to be my “friend” and told him a little about what I was doing.  He graciously took me on as one of his friends and introduced me to his circle of online friends.  With his FB endorsement, everyone accepted me.  And so, Gus was off and running in FaceBook…to the amusement of some, and to the frustration of others.

Perhaps it was that Danny was an Engineer, like me, that we hit it off.  He was very cordial, yet reserved, and willingly answered every question I threw his way, as well as sharing not only his knowledge of the area, but some fine photos and documents from his personal collection.  Those bits of information added significantly to my and now many others’ knowledge of our childhood turf…the Meadowbrook/Eastern Hills section of Ft. Worth c.1956-1963.

Danny carried much or all of the online load in getting his 1961 Class 50^th reunion together; like Lynn Spain, another Engineer had done for the 1960, First EH graduating class a year earlier.  And he worked diligently at it.

As this Highlander blog grew, Danny was a steady and welcome supporter of the undertaking.  His recommendation to others helped spread the word of its existence and assisted further growth.  But more importantly, his encouragement gave me valuable feedback that its tone and direction was worthwhile.  You see, I respected Danny’s opinion and gave it substantial weight.

As he conducted his online communications with others, it was clearly apparent that he deeply loved his brother, Kendall.  Not only was his love expressed in comments, it was wonderfully expressed by the photos he chose to share with others…those below, among them.

 My last communication with him was just this past Thanksgiving when he sent a copy of Kendall’s fine 2009 tribute to our Class of 1963 fallen gentle giant, Leo Luebbehusen.  The exchange opened one more meaningful opportunity for exchanging information about our East Side days.  It follows:

Nov. 21, 2012

Danny:  My Brother Kendall wrote this nice tribute to Leo when he passed away a couple of years ago.  Thought you would appreciate it.

Gus:  Thanks, Danny and please thank Kendall for sharing his memories.  Everyone he mentions were close friends of mine, also.  Most of his memories in this piece are of shortly after we left EH.

I clearly recall Kendall's hellfire and brimstone approach to sports and recall that he didn't play football after MJH but did continue with baseball and basketball.
 
May I publish it in the blog?

And may I use a recent picture of Kendall for illustration or would he prefer I use a young one?

Danny:  I am sure he wouldn't mind your using it.  I am attaching a good picture.

Kendall sprained his ankle playing basketball in Junior High and as a result had some back trouble.  Back then there was a knee-jerk reaction by Doctors to do a spinal fusion on the 4th vertebrae.  He had the TCU team Doctor but the operation was pretty botched and he got a staph infection that it took 20 years to shake.  He really could never play after that.  He was a really gifted pitcher and quarterback and could make it from half court about half of the time.  He has suffered with his back most of his life and is almost crippled now with it.

Gus:  posted here 

Danny:  Thanks - very nice

Gus:  A couple of questions, if you can answer them...where did you and Kendall go to elementary school....Sagamore Hill?  I've seen Kendall at Meadowbrook Elementary in the 5th or 6th grade class pictures, but not before that (abt. 1955-57) Would you think Kendall might still have that picture of he and Larmer, Dillard, Tate, and Leo out at Lake Arlington in 1983 for their last meeting he writes about?
Thanks,

Dec. 3, 2012

Danny:  We moved to the East Side between my 7th and 8th grades (1956).  I attended Daggett in the 7th grade and then Meadowbrook in the 8th and 9th grade.  Was fortunate to have the best government teacher Fort Worth probably produced - Billy Sills.  Kendall was 2 years younger so he would have gone to Meadowbrook elementary in the 6th grade then Meadowbrook in the 7-9 grades.  Kendall was a great drop back quarterback.  He and Roby Morris made many a long connection and I think won the city championship.

Here is the picture you mentioned and another of Kendall's championship basketball team (he would have been in the 8th grade I think).  Coach Blocker was a cousin of Dan Blocker of Bonanza fame.  His favorite imploring for the basketball players was "Boy, you couldn't hit a bull in the butt with a bass fiddle."

Had another exchange with Danny last August while he was out with his son on a bird hunt...another glimpse of his humor....