WHS CLASS OF 1971 NEWSLETTER    

January 2022

Happy New Year to all, and we welcome an exciting year – the year of our (slightly belated) 50 reunion!  It’s been a long time coming, and our Reunion Committee has continued to work toward our goal of a happy, safe, warm, and welcoming reunion on October 15, 2022.  Please save the date and stay tuned for further developments, both through this newsletter and through the WHS Class of 1971 web site:

https://whs1971.classquest.com

It’s simple – all you have to do is to access this site and log in with a username and password.  There is all kinds of information on the site – messages, reunion information, a lovely memorial section, and more.  All you have to do is to click on the entries on the left-hand side of the page.  Do check it out.

As the event is just 10 months away, the reunion committee is working hard to identify classmates whose contact information has eluded us.  Please pass this email contact information and the web site along to anyone you know from the class of 1971, so we can get maximal attendance at the event.

One other thing to keep an eye out for – our monthly Zoom meetings, held on Sunday afternoons.  This has been a terrific opportunity to reconnect with classmates before the actual reunion, and we have had a lot of fun reminiscing about our school memories and also sharing our adult lives and passions.  Check out our "Zoom Hour Class of '71" link. You will also get an invite for each zoom meeting via email in advance.

Please join us – some of us have actually aged reasonably well!

NOSTALGIA TIME – RING A BELL?!?!

One of the ways we are seeking to build momentum for the upcoming reunion is through shared stories. We are hoping that classmates will enter their stories in the “stories” section of the WHS Class of 1971 web site – you can find it on the left-hand side of the web site title page.

Here’s mine – the title is “Report Cards”:

Does anyone remember what our report cards looked like? I just recalled recently that we actually got TWO grades for each class; one for academics (A through F), and another for citizenship (S for satisfactory, N for needs improvement, and U for unsatisfactory). When I served as Student Council Chair as a senior, one class period was devoted to time spent performing the offices we held – Student Council, President, and the others. I specifically remember a huge and heated debate the group of class officers had about whether it was appropriate for our teachers to give us a citizenship grade. I was totally against it – I didn’t think they had the right to judge us so subjectively in this way. I’m pretty sure I was on the losing end of the argument – oh well.

P.S. I was a bit sensitive on the issue for personal reasons – I had gotten a number of “N’s” early on, and perhaps that colored my judgment about my own behavior. It’s 50 years later now, and I am happy to report that I have matured just a bit – I still get an occasional “N” from Cindy, my wife, but I’d like to think that most of the time, I am at least “satisfactory”.

Do send us your stories any way you can – through the WHS web site, directly through this email chain, and/or through our monthly Zoom meetings. All will be most welcome!

In parting, I hope that the newsletters will prove helpful to all of us as we prepare for the reunion in October (and pray that COVID will ease). Let’s stay in touch as the time approaches!

All the best,
Carl Devore

The summer of ’68, between our freshman and sophomore years, I turned 15. It was a wonderful summer full of family camping trips and other fun times with friends at our local beaches. One time in particular brings back wonderful memories, and that was the time that Marilyn Magness invited me to join her family for a long weekend at the beach house they rented for the week in Newport Beach. This large, beach house was awesome and had a doorway that opened up right onto the sand.

Now, the thing about this weekend was that (as I remember it) the Magness family suggested we could invite a “few” of Marilyn’s friends to join us for the weekend. So, I took it upon myself to call some of our friends to invite them along. It turns out that we had about sixteen (or so) 15-16 year old girls that were thrilled to stay in a beach house together that weekend.

I, being totally naïve and oblivious as to how the Magness family was going to feed all of us for the weekend, was taken aside by my mother who strongly suggested that each girl who planned to join us would bring some food along. So, my mom and I organized a list of food we should bring and called each girl to see what they would like to contribute. (Thank you, Mom!)

We arrived, and wow! I don’t think the Magnesses expected so many girls that weekend, but they were very gracious and didn’t seem to blink an eye about the monumental intrusion.

We all brought sleeping bags and rolled them out on the floor of the second story room, which was quite large (as I remember). We were literally sardined together on that floor, but it was sooooo much fun! Thank goodness we brought food (breakfast cereal, hot dogs, chips, condiments, cantaloupe, and much more) because we ate a lot. I’m sure that Mr. & Mrs. Magness spent a lot of time that weekend fixing up all that food for us to eat. We were too busy playing at the beach all day to notice.

That summer was during an era that we used things like baby oil on our skin to get a good tan. Well, we certainly burned a lot and some of our burns eventually turned into tans. One of our ultra-fair friends who had particularly “white” skin got at least 2nd degree burns that weekend and was in excruciating pain. I remember applying cold “Noxzema” to her skin, while she was crying out in agony, to help the burn go away. I don’t exactly know why I thought that would help (especially because of the pain), but apparently it did help a bit – she didn’t end up at the hospital and eventually got back to normal.

A big “Thanks" to you, Marilyn Magness, for hosting such a large group of friends that summer weekend. It was definitely one of the many good times; special highlights of my high school years.

Jenelle Miller (Sparks)

My story involves the sport of wrestling and the popularity of Ruben Amaya.  I'm not exactly sure if it took place in 10th or 11th grade, but it definitely was in one of those years.  Ruben had gone out for the wrestling team and had earned his way onto the JV squad by the middle of the season.  They were having a home meet, in the old, musty wrestling room, and for some reason, all of Ruben's friends who were out for basketball had the opportunity to go see Ruben's match.  Possibly our own practice was going to be later than usual, I don't remember.  But I do know this was the only time we were going to able to see Ruben wrestle.  There was myself, Bill Lazerus, Brian Smith for sure.  Steve Sundin says he was there because he remembers the match fondly (as we all do).  And I know there were others, maybe 6-8 kids altogether there just to see Ruben.

Ruben was the JV heavyweight wrestler.  The Varsity matches were held first, and then the JV ones followed.  And they went, in order, from the lightest weight to heavyweight.  So, I think that Ruben's was the 20th and last match.  Most of us had gotten there in time to see the varsity matches, so we had had to wait quite a long time.  Matches consisted of three 2-minute periods, which means matches lasted either a full six minutes or less if there was a pin.  I think it is fair to say all of us had been there for over 90 minutes waiting for the big moment to see our good friend compete.

Finally, Ruben's match was ready to begin.  The only people still in the room were the two teams, the coaches, and Ruben's friends. The referee blew the whistle to start the match, and Ruben immediately rushed his opponent to try to tackle him.  No other wrestler in the 19 other matches had tried this tactic.  Anyway, Ruben and his opponent rolled around violently, it looked like Popeye vs Bluto where you could only see the cloud of violence.  The other kid wound up on top of Ruben, the ref blew his whistle to signal a pin, and it was over.  The match lasted somewhere between 5 and 10 seconds.  Some think it was even shorter, but I'll stick to the 5 to 10 seconds.  We had waited for over 90 minutes to see our friend compete, and his match was over like that, with Ruben having lost to boot.

I commiserated with Ruben the next day at school, but it wasn't long before everyone, including Ruben, thought it was a pretty funny moment.  Ruben's moment when so many of his friends had shown up to see him, and possibly the shortest match in Whittier Hi's wrestling history!

Growing up in SoCal during the 60’s, I think we all remember the opening line to Thee Midniter’s song: “Let’s take a trip down Whittier Boulevard!.”  It’s Friday or Saturday night after a big game against Pioneer or El Rancho.  Did Whittier win or lose – who cares?  The game’s just a chance to get out of the house, hang out with friends, and go cruising.  But before we hit Whittier Blvd, we first gotta cruise down Washington Blvd!

First things first - get something to eat.  Hey, let’s stop and see Jimmy La Peter at McDonalds.  Back in the day, this was the Cadillac of Fast Food – quick, consistent, and cheap.  My personal favorite was the Big Mac.  And those fries were to die for at 19 cents a pop.

Pizza more your style? Keep going east and on the right side of the street, you’ll find Me-N-Ed's. This had at a long counter where you ordered your pizza and drinks.  Usually we went here when we needed a change from McDonalds and since it was just across the street from MacDonald’s, it fit the bill.  Me-N-Ed’s was kinda like Shakey’s – dark, dingy, and a good place to get out of the ’66 Nova and see who else was hanging around.

Now back in the car and keep driving east.  We’re passing the Sundown Drive-In.  In all my years living in Whittier, I never, ever went to the Sundown, even to the swap meet on Saturdays.  Don’t know why, maybe ‘cause if I wanted to see a movie, there were better places to go like the Whittier, Wardman, or Roxy.  Hey, in my naivete, I went to the theater to see a movie, not to partake in extra-curricular activities!

Look, there’s a signpost up ahead - the Five Points Car Wash. We’re driving beneath the railroad trestle and then onto our next destination, Whittier Blvd!

Now, we’re really cruizin’.  Roll down the car windows and feel the evening breeze.  Pass the intersection of Greenleaf and drab store fronts lining both sides of the road.  On the left there’s some familiar landmarks.  First, there’s Jack’s Whittier, which outlived its stablemates, Jack’s Beverly and Jack’s Salad Bowl. Then, its the home of the worst hot dog to ever grace the planet, Der Wienerschnitzel, at the corner of Whittier Blvd and Painter.  It always amazed me how this place could stay in business.  I think they’re motto was “how cheap can we make a hot dog before no one wants to eat it anymore?”

Keep driving past the Quad and May Company on the right. We’re entering East Whittier, Cal High territory, and the start of “The Strip” proper.  On the left is “Cruizin’ Central” – Bob’s Big Boy.

Usually it was hard to get into Bob’s on a weekend night, so most of the time we slowed down, drove past, and chatted with people at traffic lights.  Anyway, the point was not to eat but to “see and be seen” and just hang out.  They did have a mean Chili Size though.

Coming up now is the King’s Retreat.  Supposedly, this was one of the “better” places to go in Whittier. Kind of a leather booth and white tablecloth kind of joint.  Marilyn Magness and I had a nice dinner here before either the Girl’s League or Junior/Senior Prom dance.  While struggling to display my best social graces, I was also trying to remember the dance moves I learned in cotillion at Walter F Dexter School.

Keep driving east.  Past Polly’s House of Pies and Norm’s World Famous Burgers on the right. [By now, you’ve probably detected a theme in my writing!]  Didn’t eat here very often but both great places. Now we’re almost reached Colima and the beginning of La Serna High territory with its rich kids living in Friendly Hills and end of the “Strip.”  

Time to make a decision.  Do we turn around, cruise the Strip again, or keep driving east to Whitwood Center? Hey, it’s 1971, we’re Seniors, so let’s live large and keep on going!

I’m in the mood for ice cream and know just the place to go – Farrell’s Ice Cream Parlor.  You know the place with the old-timey 1890’s feel and huge sundaes?  I usually got the Trough, a kind of a banana-split served in a wooden serving tray for $2.  And there was this gigantic thing called the “Zoo” which came in a silver bowl and had everything thrown in it except the kitchen sink.  It was so big, I think they gave you an award if you ate the whole thing by yourself.  Farrell’s was a great place to hang out and usually there was a large and lively group of kids there. 

It's getting late so it’s time to say good bye, get back in the car, and drive back home to Whittier.   I hope you enjoyed this journey down memory lane with me, revisiting places long gone, but still alive in our memories.

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Forty of us were lucky enough to experience this life-changing journey led by the Wittigs and the Peaces (what saints!).  I've recently found these slides though I think there may let be another box that I'll come across (Switzerland and the homestays in the Rhineland and Freiburg are missing here, for instance).   I apologize in advance for the terrible quality and wish I had more of the participants.  But the slides of Berlin are incredibly historic, as anyone who has been there recently will recognize - it's totally transformed.  If and when I locate the other box I'll share them here   

You can access 70 scanned slides at https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1s7D65kpRpHFkwkfldd7_Ax4J15QpvVgv?usp=sharing

At April's Zoom session, Uwe mentioned that he was in Mrs. Vento's 5th grade class at Longfellow.  I see him in the crowd!  Who else can you spot?

Thank you for this photo, Joyce! I'm not sure what Uwe is doing to Joe Crow?!! I see Joyce Walker, Shelly Rogers & Paula La Marr. I see myself between Donna Townsley & Janis Price. That was my first year at Longfellow. Fun memories.

Joe Crow's expression made this class photo a classic. Front row second from right; Nancy Cottini, Nancy Erickson and Marylyn Myers.  I had a crush on Nancy Erickson that year. Unfortunately the affections were not reciprocated. With my bangs and braces, I really can't blame her.

Congratulations are in order to John E. Johnston III, PG, CPG who has a 2010 Nebula Award on his mantelpiece!

Our classmate, John Johnston III, is a published science fiction and fantasy writer, and has been a member of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America for decades. In addition, he has served as the chair of SFWA’s Grievance Committee for many years. See https://www.sfwa.org/member-links/committees/griefcom/

Other links of interest about John and his award:
https://nebulas.sfwa.org/nominated-work/john-e-johnston-iii
https://nebulas.sfwa.org/award/service-to-sfwa-award/
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nebula_Award#Categories

I wasn’t one of the popular kids.
I wasn’t cool or the sharpest tool.

No, but I was a certified Nerd, before the name got coined.
And, I wasn’t alone. There was a Tribe of us.

We were proudly NOT Jocks nor the popular, cool kids we disdainfully called Socize. We were the “Others”. We were the guys who sent dissected frogs raining down on people below from the windows of the second story biology lab. Or mixed up contact explosive in chemistry class and sprinkled it on the floors, so when classmates walked down the hallway, their shoes would make loud popping noises.

At lunch time, we had our place. We hung out under the tall pine tree, mid-way across in the broad, lush green lawn in the front of the school. We ate lunch out of paper bags, letting our hair dry after having had gym class. We’d all been marched to the pool, wearing those ridiculous speedos, to pass the haircut test. Each of us had to dunk our head under water, and if our hair touched our eyebrows or our ears, we needed to get a haircut. Even though the other schools let students wear shoulder length hair, not us. This was Nixon’s old high school.

In those days, everyone had a place to hang. Our tree was a place for those who didn’t otherwise fit in. Odd, but interesting ducks. People who still needed somewhere to eat their lunch and take a deep breath. Our membership included artists, poets, writers for the school paper, people from other countries and even the shy guy later voted “Most Likely To Succeed.” A lot of us were just waiting to figure out what life was going to look like. We had lively lunchtime debates and discussions under that tree. Jefferson Airplane, Led Zeppelin and The Monkees’ “Last Train to Clarkville” blasted from the same school speakers that played morning Reveille. I remember smiling because the Administration clearly had no clue that the Monkees’ song was a protest to the Vietnam War. And remember Reveille? As soon as we heard the first note, we’d dash for a building doorway to avoid classmates teasing us for having to stand in the middle of the Quad with our hand pressed to our heart as we turned in the direction of the flag being raised.

Being nerds also meant we were an All Guy Group. Not because we wanted it that way, but because we didn’t know what to do if a girl sat down amongst us. Bill Kelp knew. He was in our group for a while and was much further along in the whole Guy/Gal relationship thing than we were. He would regale us with his racy date stories. Whether they were true or the result of a fertile imagination, I couldn’t say. He would later get a steady girl and moved on.

I was the group’s Artist and probably the most terrified of the opposite sex. I was so shy, and in those days, a Very Fundamentalist Christian. Not that I was afraid to talk to a girl, but the idea of asking one out on a date was just not going to happen. This was in part because Bill Kelp’s stories sounded so wonderful: exciting, kind of naughty, terrifying and mixed with a fascinating dash of titillation. (That much fun just had to be sinful). Or so I thought. However, I had paid attention in Mr. Zimmer’s biology class and heard the stories boys told in gym class, so I knew how babies were conceived. And if I wanted to someday have children I needed a wife. I knew dating was a part of that process, so I had to figure something out. Perhaps a “Pop Quiz” to determine which of the girls I was interested in might make a good wife. I figured that surely God might cut me a break and forgive me a few carnal thoughts or pleasures, like kissing, if it was with a girl who was good “wife material.”

So, in Mr. Bermuda’s art class, as we painted while Diana Ross and the Supremes played on the school record player, I would have long conversations with girls and sprinkle in a few “special” questions. “So, do you think the Varsity team is going all the way this year? …You like the Beatles? …Have you accepted Jesus as your Lord and Savior? …Do you like brussel sprouts? Do you want kids? Oh really, that many?? …I enjoyed biology class. Have you taken it yet?...”

Some of you ladies passed my ridiculous test, but I still couldn’t ask you out. I was too painfully shy.

It wasn’t until after I got drafted and came back from the Army that, while visiting my friend and classmate Mike Wilson, I was introduced to his sister Debbie. (She was in WHS class of 73). We married and had two wonderful kids. On a sad note, Debbie and Mike have both passed. Mike most recently from COVID.

I’m sure that every guy who sat under that pine tree has his own coming of age story. For a lot of us who never dated, never went to school dances, Prom or Sadie Hawkins, we went on to college and there we blossomed. Or we went into the workplace and found ourselves in that setting. Turns out it’s OK to be a Nerd and I’m sure somewhere in a Quad hallway there was a tribe of Nerdettes going through the same fears and uncertainties we guys were. We were all so young and unformed. Our whole lives ahead of us waiting to unfold.

I have outgrown nerdhood …well mostly, been married and had kids. I live in Sedona, am still an artist, and have been doing graphic design and ceramics for 45 years. I moved away from my Fundamentalist Christian beliefs because my interests have broadened. I’m more into Buddhism and New Age thinking. I continue to grow, mature and discovering new truths.

For example, guess what? It turns out that a lot of the things Bill Kelp told us guys about women are true! You ladies are so amazing.


- Robert (Bob) Schmierer

Here is a photo we all have in our senior annual. Any person registered on this site could explain to everyone what the Senators responsibilities were. I remember seeing but not fully understanding. Help. Uwe, Mark, Jimmy, W.J. Mike, Marshall, Randy, Dave?  I don't see Mike as registered ? (:  ....    Darla

________________

In regards to Darla's question regarding the Senators Organization:

As President of the Organization my Senior year, I can stipulate that our purpose was to wear that great sweater on the day of any assembly and intimidate all the underclass folks to get in their seats and behave.

Respectfully,

Uwe R. Schick

The counterpart to the Senators was Girls Council.

We organized a hilarious Donkey Basketball Game with faculty on one team and the varsity basketball players on the other team. The proceeds went to the Cerebral Palsy Foundation in Whittier. Lots of fun.

Respectfully,

Jenelle Miller (Sparks)
Girls Council President 1970-71

Does anyone remember the Scatman Crothwers "Whittier" song?

Scatman Crothers, who played the garbage man on “Chico and the Man”, wrote and performed this song during one of the evening concerts in the Auditorium during the Spring of ’69.

This was a true “one off”.  The stage band backed him as he sang and danced and I remember we only had one run thru before we did it.

Later, Scatman, Rodney his bass player, and his piano player had a long standing gig at Rueben’s over at the Whittwood Mall.  Joe Vinatieri, Steve Briggs [Class of 1970], and I used to stop by and hang out with him.  He knew Steve by name, but Joe and I were just “T-Bone” and “Bassman”.

Why I remember this after 50 years, I don’t know, but here it is for the record!

Marshall