Author: patcamerino

Not everything I tried to initiate at Niles McKinley was accepted. That was certainly the case with my venture into music.

The Ductorian Society, the group of student leaders that had been established in my Junior year, thought something new should be done with the morning announcements made over the public address system used throughout the high school. Surely music accompanying the morning proclamations about what was to occur throughout the academic day would help improve the school atmosphere, so long as it wasn’t “jazz.”

A friend of mine, Dick Rashilla, “Rash,” who had a collection of classical music records, said he would help me prepare for the daily events. Principal Sharp agreed we could broadcast “soothing melodies” for listening by students over the loudspeaker system. I was to be the equivalent of a D.J., although the term was not prevalent in the mid-fifties, and read the announcements which Mr. Sharp or his secretary had previously written. I could also give ad lib comments and earn credits in my public speaking class for ex temp events.

On Monday morning, Rash gave me a classical record he thought the kids would enjoy. The band I was to play came from Grofee’s Grand Canyon Suite; it was labeled “On the Trail.” I knew nothing about classical music. I was a little surprised when the sounds coming out of the classroom speakers were those of the Philip Morris cigarette commercial. The teachers ran from their classrooms and into the hallways faster than answering a call from Johnny, the bellboy. They marched on the Principal’s office to see what was happening. I promised we would offer less- exciting selections in the future.

On Tuesday, Rash provided me with music from Victor Herbert. The students said it was too slow and the teachers claimed it was still too noisy for the beginning of the day. Two days later, everything went wrong. The music was too loud in some rooms and too low in others. The announcements were too low to hear and nobody appreciated a tape-recording I had made of the Steno Club doing its own version of the typewriter song.

Over the next several days, I spoke with all of the teachers and learned that none of them liked the idea of music coupled with the necessary daily announcements. Meanwhile, the Ductorian Society discussed whether the series should be continued. The group wanted to restart the effort, which had been postponed while it was being reconsidered. However, Mr. Bassett, our faculty advisor and the head basketball coach, said the program must be discontinued. And it was.

In addition to the teachers who wanted the day to begin quietly, the only student who loudly was in agreement with the decision to terminate the music was my friend and rival, Scott. He continued to take great pleasure every time I failed at anything and made sure I knew just how badly I had failed. I guess not everyone was pleased about what happened in “River City” either.

A student, especially one who is interested in “getting ahead,” wants to get along with the school principal. I tried to do this with Mr. Sharp, but not always successfully. The “music fiasco” was one incident. There were others.

“Youth Day” was one such incident. Every spring, all of the students elected fellow students to run the city for a day. The program was designed for us to experience how government works. Once again, I was to be the student organizer for the event.

My new problem for my Senior year began when Mr. Evans, my instructor in driving and one of the social studies teachers, gave me a lift one cold, January morning, although he usually passed me by on others. He needed to tell me about a change in the program at the direction of Principal Sharp. This year in order to be eligible to run for an elected city office, a student had to attend one of the bimonthly meetings of City Council before the March elections. Their observations were to give them some idea of what the town government was doing. There would also be two, special, daytime social study classes in February with the mayor, several council members, one of the city judges and the city solicitor giving brief presentations. The new requirements sounded reasonable, and I agreed to make a brief announcement in each social science class so that all of the students would know about the changes.

In late March, Miss Campana, my history teacher, learned that one of her pet students, Ron Nolder, had failed to attend any of the Council meetings and was ineligible to run. She told all of her classes that the rule was too strict and blamed me, as chairman of the Youth Day committee, for its implementation. She wanted me to declare that Ron should be eligible to run. I failed to convince her that if he, and others, could find time to devote to nightly gatherings at the Grill, the local hamburger-coffee hangout, they should have been able to get to one the meetings Mr. Sharp required. Her response, as related to me by those in her classes, was that no student was going to tell her what should be done in school. Although the rules were not modified, Ron did undertake a write-in ballot for his election; he failed.

The second incident was more directly involved with Mr. Sharp. On the same day that Miss Campana was telling her classes about my overly strict views, I was summoned into the Principal’s office, not to discuss the election, but rather, to be informed that the National Forensic League dinner at the close of the year could not be held at Café 422. He had learned of this venue when he was reviewing the Hi-Crier, the student newspaper, prior to its publication. Café 422 served alcohol and was off limits as a place for a banquet for a school program. I pointed out that all of the restaurants along highway 422 into Youngstown served alcohol at a separate bar and asked him for an alternative. After deep thought, he proposed Ma Perkins (where the food was considered by many to be inferior) or the Christian Parish House (which no one used) or, perhaps, the Masonic Temple (which really surprised me as being a non-alcoholic venue.)

He was adamant about the alcohol prohibition. As it turned out, we did have the NFL dinner at a place called Ali Bab. We were charged for 63 steak dinners, although only 60 people from our group ate there. Since all of the others had left, I had to pay the difference for the three extra steaks. It cost me a total of $7.00, which amounts to about $2.50 a steak or one-tenth of the price in current dollars!

Yes, there are costs associated with following principles or pleasing principals.

Memories, call them a memoir if you want, do differ from notes in a diary or journal. I happened upon a few notes for 1953 that might be of interest.

Monday, January 12: [Often I would include a comment on the proverb-of-the-day, which was printed on the top of each page of the diary I used. Sometimes I began with a notation about a current-event-of-the-day. The one written for today was, “Twenty-four are made Cardinals by Pope at Consistory” The Pope would have been Pius XII.] This afternoon several seniors took a preliminary scholarship test like the one we have to take the last day of January in Warren. On the whole, this test was easier; I think I knew more of the English literature than in the last one. The math section was harder. During the course of the test, I could have strangled Lamb, my physics teacher (who was monitoring the exam.) He did not have time to eat and so he ate while we were taking the test. And what was he eating? Carrots! I doubt if there is anything more distracting than, in a silent room, to hear snap, crunch, munch, munch, munch. I hope he enjoyed them.

Tuesday, January 20: [“Eisenhower takes oath to become 34th President of the United States.”] We got out as usual at 11:30 a.m., but today we did not have to be back until two o’clock. Therefore, I was able to watch the Inauguration on television. It was a very impressive sight. Dwight David Eisenhower looked quite grim before he took office, as if he was well aware of his new responsibility. But afterwards came the old Ike smile. Mr. Truman, however, seemed quite pleased with the whole proceedings. I wanted to watch the parade but I had to go back to school. This evening I watched the Inaugural Ball for a few minutes. I wonder how I will feel when I become President?

Saturday, January 31: Like today’s German Proverb [The art of silence is as great as that of speech] – today I was silent. However, I doubt if I was great. All events were held at Cathedral Latin but I did not go. [This was a reference to the NFL competitions held every Saturday.] Instead I racked my brains over a scholarship test at Warren G. Harding. It was twice as hard as the ‘48 and ‘50 preliminary tests here in Niles. Half of the literature I never heard, the history was all American history and modern stuff – after 1940, the algebra killed me, the science was mainly biology and the directions for reading, comprehension were worse than the test. The only compensation was I got to talk to Bill Pennell and Don Seaborn. [These were close friends from Mineral Ridge.] Don is still set on Ohio State – I can’t change him to Kent. This evening I saw the Dragons chew up Boardman 88 – 44 to set a new high scoring record. Pat Eschnoz and Janice McGown, who took Norm and my place in debate, lost all three rounds, but they came up against Massillon and Cincinnati! I’m glad Norm and I didn’t go!

Saturday, March 14: Today I went to Youngstown to see a three-dimensional picture called Bwana Devil with Nigel Bruce and Barbara Britton. The plot was lousy but it was very interesting to see things in three dimensions. You never notice regular movies to be two-dimensional until you see three dimensions. If this is true, perhaps there really is a “visible” fourth dimension, only we don’t have the right stereoscopic glasses to see it. Perhaps right now, a fourth dimensional character is looking over my shoulder laughing at my stupidity not to see him. If so, Mr. 4-D, just remember there might be a Miss 5-D watching you. [At the time, there was great hope for the third dimension as an entertainment technique. It never did catch on; perhaps it was the feel of the cardboard glasses with a red and a blue lens to bring the overlapping images into coherence. Now, of course, it’s “virtual reality.” It should prove fascinating to see what will be in vogue fifty years from now, in 2070!]

Wednesday, April 1: I received a very interesting letter on this April Fool’s Day. It was from the President of Kent State University. The letter offered me a four-year scholarship to Kent because of the results in the Senior tests. I was certainly surprised to receive it today. I was a little dubious about it on a day such as this.

If I had been a jock, I probably would have memories of days on the football field or basketball court. Instead I focused on debating and ex temp speaking. Less body contact, but high levels of brain power. Friendly rivals play a large part in both athletics and public speaking. I don’t remember anything specific about the NFL members I competed against, but, at the time, their friendship was very important to me, a relative loner in Niles McKinley. The following are actual entries from my diary. Mr. Moritz was the other speech teacher; he was not as good as Mr. Bond.

Saturday, January 24: I had to get up at 5:00 this morning to be ready to leave for St. Joseph’s Academy in Rocky River, 16 miles outside of Cleveland. Individual events in public speaking were held at this Catholic school for girls. I was entered in the ex temp division. My topic for the morning was, “Is there a possibility of using the atomic bomb in Korea?” In the afternoon I “graduated” to the H-bomb with the topic: “Is it advisable to continue research on the Hydrogen Bomb?” For once I was lucky in getting good topics. I gave my talks in small, piano rooms which the girls used for practice. In my rounds I got 2/3, 1/7, 1/7. With this, I tied for first place in the ex temp Division.

Saturday, February 21: Today’s debating was at Euclid in Cleveland. At 6:30 this morning, Norm’s mother ‘phoned to say that he had the flu and could not go to debate. So I had to take a cab over to his place to pick up his material. I debated three rounds of cross-examination alone. I thought I was going crazy. I was up and down so much I lost track of which speech I was giving. I lost to Lorraine and Cathedral Latin, but won from St. Ignatius. The debate topic for this year was, “Resolved: that the Atlantic Pact Nations Should Form a Federal Union.”

Thursday, February 26: Since the Ohio High Schools Speech League was held in Niles starting at four o’clock, Mr. Bond had all of us excused at noon. I met a lot of old friends, including two from Salem. Last year J.J. and I lost to Nora and Sandy. Well, this year Norm and I defeated Nora and Pat. We also won from Ursuline. Dorothy Ann (Dorrie) Wenzel qualified for Columbus in oratorical by placing second. In ex-temp Sol Lerner, one of the twins, took first. Sandy and I tied for second. He was awarded second on judges preference, but since Salem’s junior play covers the time for the finals in Columbus, I was awarded second to qualify for state. I wish it would have been anyone but Sandy. Of all the kids I’ve met in two years whom I have liked, he tops the list. I’m glad he still has another year. I hope he goes to state next year. His full name is Sanford Hansel.

Friday, March 6: The NFL District speech contests began at Rayen. Norman and I were in debate with Scott and Jerry on the opposing side for Niles. Norman and I defeated East for the third time and Struthers. We lost to St. Joe’s. Scott and Jerry, as usual, lost all three. Radio announcing was a new competitive event. Everyone but Scott and Dorothy Ann entered it. I went through the third round; Norm through the fourth or semifinal. Carl Oglesby of Bath Revere and Tom Baker of Euclid were the heroes of the events. Carl took first in ex temp, original oratory, and second place in radio. Tom took second in ex temp, original oratory, and first in radio. [Carl became my roommate in college during our Freshman year! More is given in my KSU years.]

Friday, March 20: I got up at five this morning to get ready to go to Columbus for the speech tournaments. Mr. Moritz and Dorrie Wenzel picked me up at six o’clock. When we started out we passed the Hollow Ranch Grain Store which was on fire. We drove to the fire station to report it, but no one was awake there. When we told one of the policemen, he said he would check. So he got in his patrol car to go to see if there was a fire. Niles, Ohio! Shades of William McKinley!

We had to go to Youngstown first to pick up two kids from Chaney who were to go with us. They were Beverly Dyer and Frank Crushin. They were nice kids. It took us about five hours to drive to Columbus and an hour to drop Bev and Frank off. Frank stayed at the River Road dorms. I had heard of them and thought that I would probably live there if I went to OSU. But after seeing them inside – no thanks. They are the junkiest thing I have ever seen. Reminded me of the place where J.J. stayed last year at Kent.

Then Mr. Moritz took us to the Deschler-Wallick hotel. There was some mistake in our reservations, for Dorrie and I were suppose to room together. But Mr. Moritz and I got it straightened out. He and I roomed together.

The lobby of the D-W was beautiful, or perhaps it was my lack of comparison. However, room 1371 needed no comparison to tell you that it was a mess. It was now noon, but the maid had not yet cleaned up the remains of a beer-card-party of the previous night. They must have had a gay-old-time. When we got back at six that night it had been straightened up.

We immediately went to the campus, for my first round started at 1:15 in ex temp. My topic was: “Will Japan be allowed to re-arm?” I came in fourth. However, I did not feel too bad for Tom Baker of Euclid came in third in my room. Some sophomore came in first. I think he was from Dayton. I had not eaten since 5:30 this morning and it was now 2:30; I went to an Isaly across from the campus. I hurried back to see the round of dramatic oratory. It was very interesting.

Dorrie, Moritz, and I ate dinner at the Mills, a super-deluxe cafeteria. Afterwards, we walked around downtown Columbus. Then we went back to the hotel. Dorrie and I played a couple hands of rummy while Moritz was in the bar.

There wasn’t much to do. When only two go like that, you can’t do very much. You only have fun with a gang of kids. Most gangs didn’t get to sleep until three in the morning. I went to bed at 10:30 and lay awake until four. It was terribly boring.

The next morning, we ate breakfast in the drugstore and then went to the campus again. The weather was wonderful, so we had a chance to look over the campus. OSU is a mammoth place and a beautiful one. After Dorrie’s finals in oratorical, we walked around. We ate in the new five-million-dollar Student Union. It was the most breath-taking building I have seen, the showcase of the campus, with its four lounges, huge ballroom, twin cafeterias, large game rooms and small activity rooms. It was worth seeing. After we had learned that Dorrie had placed third, we left. We got home about six o’clock. Even if I didn’t win, I had fun in Columbus.

[The following are direct transcriptions from my diary for the last two weeks of high school. A “gentle reader” may scan the names I’ve included. Perhaps, I should have deleted them from this transcript, but the memory of these classmates is still important to me, and my past.]

Sunday, May 24: Went to noon Mass. Spent the day at home – my last day in the seventeenth year of my life. Some life. I’m entirely disgusted with it. If it doesn’t change soon there is no use in existing any longer. But before I die I want to see everything and do everything there is to see and do. I want a full life to make up for my youth of dull monotony. Life should be worth the effort of living. So far it has not been worth the effort.

Monday, May 25: Happy birthday to me – since no one else will say it, or rather has said it today. As each year for the past 18, this was an extremely lousy day. The Board of Education meets tonight to hear how the Seniors finished. I think I will be third. My guess is: Johanna David, first; Myrtle Ann Gifford – second; myself – third; and Scott Garrett – fourth. As long as I come in ahead of Scott, I don’t care what I place. Mailed my graduation announcements at last.

Tuesday, May 26: I was wrong about the honor roll. I am valedictorian. Myrtle Ann is salutatorian; then Virginia Granata, Scott Garrett and Martha Smith. I was more excited about Mart’s fifth place than I was about my own position. I had the devil of a time trying to think of a quote for the Hi-Crier. Golly, I’ve worked for the position, so how could I say how I feel. But confidentially, I feel pretty great about the honor. However, I really wonder if it was worth it. I wish, instead, I were more like other guys. Maybe they didn’t place on the honor roll, but they’ve had fun in high school. They have memories, but what do I have – nothing. I hope college is different. We got our caps and gowns today. They are blue while the tassel is red. Had a Senior assembly at which I presented Miss Galster with a gift and Bob Wick gave Mr. Sharp a watch.

Wednesday, May 27: Our Dragon {school year book} at long last arrived today. On the whole they are very nice. I like them. We had a Jr-Sr assembly today on civil defense. Fourth period I went up to see Mr. Bond about my valedictory speech. He told me what to include. All I have to do is write it. This evening George Davies, Bob Billig, and I went to see The Niles Story. It was mainly one long commercial. The only things I enjoyed were last year’s seniors, underclassmen, and the faculty.

Thursday, May 28: Senior Banquet: I rushed around this morning to get speeches lined up for the banquet. The banquet was nice – at least the speeches were. However, the turkey was extremely cold and I had trouble locating the potatoes. The program included: Grace – Dorothy Ann Wenzel; Toast – Bob Wick; History WJHS – Myrtle Ann Gifford; History McKJHS – Janice Gibson; Tenth grade, serious – Lucy Liberatore; Tenth grade, humorous – Tom Calderone; Eleventh grade, serious – Bob Billig; Eleventh grade, humorous – Ron Nolder; Twelfth grade, serious – Barbara Gerheim; Twelfth grade, humorous – Dick Rashilla; Class prophecy – Diane Lapolla & Joann McNammara; Faculties – Mr. Sharp; Introduction of Board – Bob Wick; Introduction of Mr. Cardinal (retiring) – Scott Garret; Introduction of Miss Gagster (retiring) – Bob Owens; Farewell – Bob Wick. All of the speeches were wonderful. Wick’s farewell was touching. Rash’s was wonderful. In a few more years he’ll be another Eddie Fusco – toastmaster. {No, I did not give a presentation; as usual, I was the behind-the-scenes person who organized everything!}

After the banquet I felt in a down mood and was walking home when I met Bob Wick, also walking home. So we walked together. Boy, did we walk – all the way to Washington Junior. Then we stood on the porch (or terrace) and talked and talked about almost everything. Bob admitted that we aren’t close friends, but it seems like we sure confide in each other. Talking to Bob is like talking to my alter ego. I can relax and say whatever I feel. And he does the same. I wish we could be friends. It would be interesting to someday repeat our little talking itinerary. I hope we can. Bob is a swell guy – in fact he’s tops. Everyone likes him. He told me how to gain friends – learn to act like them and like what they like. Which means I have to learn baseball.

Friday, May 29: Recognition Day and Saturday, May 30: This was certainly a busy day. We Seniors wore our caps and gowns to school for the Jr-Sr assembly. As valedictorian I had to give a Bible reading and a prayer. I choose the Book of Proverbs, Chapter 2 and the Lord’s Prayer. I got a number of certificates. I also received a gold medal for valedictory honors. I received a check for $10 from the Kiwanis Club and $5 from the Rotary. I hope I didn’t break them with the gifts. The assembly lasted for over two hours which was way too long.

After the assembly we had practice for Baccalaureate on Sunday night. This afternoon George Davies stopped for me and we went to see some of the teachers at Washington Junior. After that we went down town and we met Martha Smith and Diane Lapolla with the car. We asked if they would take us to Warren to register for the draft. There we gave the registrar a rough time with our names. She wouldn’t believe my name was Patty until she saw my birth certificate. When she didn’t see William down, she wouldn’t put it on my draft card. George Davies had trouble too because his father’s name is Davie. Afterward, we talked to Mr. Cardinal. Saturday I wrote my valedictory.

Sunday, May 31: Baccalaureate: I went to 12 o’clock Mass. This evening I went to the Baccalaureate with George. I’m glad it lasted for only 55 minutes. Afterwards, George, Bob Billig, John Tudhope, and I went to the Robbins to see Off Limits with Bob Hope. It was very funny. Afterward we went up to the Snack Shack to eat. Then we drove around for a while.

Monday, June 1: I typed out my speech. Rode down to graduation practice with Billig and George. We each got twelve tickets. Now I have to weed down from twenty-some relatives. After practice I took my speech to Mr. Bond. He approved it. Then George and I went to talk to Mr. Cardinal again. He’s a wonderful person and teacher. It’s too bad for the students that he is quitting. This evening I went over to George’s to watch TV and to help him fill out an application to Kent.

Tuesday, June 2: [Don Seaborn’s Wedding; Queen Elizabeth II Crowned] Because of a lack of transportation I was not able to see either event. I went to town this morning to get a key chain and to have my valedictory pin engraved. This afternoon I tried to memorize my speech. My gifts so far include an electric razor from Ed Shobel (my father’s friend) and a pen and pencil set from Uncle Frank and Aunt Rose Borecki along with mom’s key chain.

Wednesday, June 3: Graduation: Well today was the big day. I felt extremely nervous this afternoon about my speech. I was also very disgusted with “him.” Although I am valedictorian, not once has “he” congratulated me or even mentioned my merit. Instead he jokes about my graduating and going to college. I got dressed early and went to George’s to wait because I couldn’t stand being around “him.”

Before commencement began, Myrtle Ann Gifford and I had our pictures taken. There was a large crowd there. All my relatives, except Uncle Frank Moransky, were there. I think the ceremonies were very short and very nice. My speech, which I did not forget, was about four minutes long. I was awarded the Alumni Trophy for scholarship. I am able to keep it. After the ceremonies the teachers congratulated me and said they liked my speech. The best complement came from Jim Cera, who said mine was the first speech he’s ever listened to.

After the graduation, all the relatives except Uncle Bill and Aunt Ada came to our place. Then I saw the rest of my gifts. Aunt Vi gave me a suitcase; Aunt Sophia – five dollars; Uncle Bill – shirt and links; Isadore – ten dollars and Camerino’s – fifty dollars.

Then Billig, George, and Gus Spetios came after me. My relatives went up-the-hill and I went with the gang to a round of parties. George mixed beer with high balls, the other two had one high ball, but me – I stuck to ginger ale – I don’t like alcohol. I think I saw more juniors tonight than seniors. We had seven girls and we four boys in Billig’s club coupe. I got in at two AM with a load of happy memories for one evening.

{As with the diary record of the completion of my senior year in high school, I am including a copy of the Valedictory Speech I presented for my graduating class on June 3, 1953.}

Friends, this evening has a twofold meaning. It is both a sad time and a joyous one. It is both an end and a beginning.

This evening is a sad time because it is the last time that we members of the Class of 1953 will be gathered together. Since this is our last full meeting, it is fitting that each of us counts his precious memories of the past twelve years.

Our parents, watching us graduate on this evening, remember our first day of school. To them it seems so short a time ago. Their precious children – yes, you and I – started then on a new life. Our parents now see us marking a new milestone in our lives. And they continue to remember.

And the members of the faculty, sitting there, remember, too. They remember the trials and tribulations we caused them. They perhaps now recall a more happy moment we brought them and perhaps they smile to themselves.

We Seniors, too, have our memories – memories of things learned and, more important perhaps, friends made. We sit here thinking of the happy times we’ve had together, from the talking on the school corner to the things done in class. Each has his own memories, each has his own treasures.

And remembering, we are sad. Sad because we are leaving the familiar halls of Niles McKinley. Sad because we are separating from friends. No doubt we shall visit these same halls and see these same friends. But the feeling of belonging, the feeling or sameness will be gone. We will strive to re-create these feelings but only the dim memories will be left. Yes, this is a sad evening.

But it is a joyous one, too. Our first goal has been reached; graduation is here. Before us lies the world, waiting to be conquered by each of us. And in our expectation of our future, this is a joyous evening.

This evening also marks an end and a beginning. Here in this stadium we end our lives as children and teenagers. Here we begin our lives as young men and young women of Niles, of Ohio, of the United States, yes, of the World.

Yesterday, nothing mattered except our own pleasures; how much we could get with the least effort. But tomorrow the world is ours; tomorrow we will vote for our freedom; tomorrow we will fight for our freedom; tomorrow we will continue to have our freedom.

Gone are the days of play; arrived are the days of work. No longer will our parents be able to take our minor troubles upon themselves; no longer will our teachers be able to encourage us to work. Now we must use what our parents and teachers have taught us; by using this education, we must better our lives. The life each of us now makes, depends only on the individual making it.

Yes, tonight is both an end and a beginning – the end of youth, the beginning of young adulthood. But thanks to our parents, teachers, and friends it has been a happy youth. It will be a prosperous adulthood.

Tonight we are united; tomorrow we each go a different way. Perhaps we will meet again – on a busy corner or perhaps at a class reunion. But our everyday paths part now.

Some of us will go on to colleges throughout this land. They will continue the book-learning begun at Niles McKinley. Others will begin working in factories. They, too, will continue the work begun by other McKinley alumni. Yes, each goes on; each continues what was started at our Alma Mater, our foster mother, Niles McKinley.

And so, on this evening of memories; this evening of joy and sadness; this evening of end and beginning, I say to you, our friends, our teachers, our parents – “vale” – “farewell.”

{This was written as an essay for one of Mr. Bond’s Public Speaking classes. Evidently he read it at a faculty dinner in her honor and submitted it to the Hi Crier, the daily high school section of the Niles Times. It was published on May 21, 1953 – much to my surprise.}

Every person who comes into association with a young man influences him in some way. This is especially true of a teacher. Every good teacher leaves an indelible mark on the mind of her student. One of these teachers I shall remember always.

One teacher at McKinley High School is a veritable institution in herself. During her 40-odd-years career she has probably influenced over two thousand boys and girls. I am indeed proud to have been one of this number.

A person is never fully appreciated upon direct contact. A sparkling diamond is best viewed at a prospective distance; a teacher’s merits can be fully realized only in retrospect.

Miss Elenor Galster is such a person. Almost any of her present mathematics students, whether he takes a form of geometry or algebra, will complain that she works him much too hard – she makes him think. But any college student who has been in one of her classes praises her greatly for the same reason expressed in somewhat different terms – she taught him HOW to think. This is the educational philosophy of our beloved mathematics instructor: think before you say it. A student who repeats the words of the book without understanding the fundamentals is indeed, giving only “parrot talk.”

This lesson can be applied to our way of life. Too much of what we do and say is only “parrot talk.” In her own way Miss Galster has tried to teach us how to use the mentalities God gave us, whether we are working a geometry theorem or living an adult life. Many times she has shown us that the greatest feeling an intelligent man can have is undertaking a difficult problem and solving it. The feeling of accomplishment is well worth the effort.

I am deeply sorry that future students will not have the opportunity of having this great lady as a mathematics instructor. Miss Galster has decided to retire from the teaching profession. This indeed will be a great loss for the students of Niles McKinley, students who regarded her with deep devotion and affection. These students may some day forget the sum of two and two, but wherever they go, whatever they do, they will always remember our Miss Galster.

On the Monday after I graduated from high school I went to the Niles Times office to see about getting a summer job there. But no luck. I decided to try an employment agency in Youngstown. I went to three of them; the first two did not have any listings for summer office jobs. However, the Wells Vocational agency found a possibility at Western Auto in Youngstown. It wasn’t really a “summer” position, but I thought I might be able to take it, since there was a branch store in Kent where I might be able to work next fall when I would begin college at Kent State. I could start the next day. The pay would be $33.00 a week plus commission. The main difficulty would be getting back and forth by bus between Niles and Youngstown.

The first day of work, real work, began. I cleaned up all of the counters with a shop vacuum. I lugged stuff from the cellar stock room. I met the other clerks. There was Quintin, a junior in college who was planning to be a Nazarene minister. Rudy was twenty-five, looked to be nineteen, and had an expectant wife and child. Mr. Miller worked in auto parts and complained all day long. Charlie Z. was floor-manager with a mean disposition. Paul K. was assistant manager and was very nice. So was Mr. Rishavey, the general manager. The other people in the store included Art, stoneroot clerk; Fred, receiving-room clerk; Carey, service department attendant; and Mr. Robinson, who installed seat-covers.

The second day, I stocked counters. The work was easier than yesterday’s, easier on the back but not on the legs. It would take time, I guessed, to learn to stand on my feet for nine hours a day. My legs from the knees down felt dead.

On my third day, I started selling. I took in $72.33 in cash; $25.00 for charges, and for tires, $86.00. Because I sold seat covers for $10.20, I earned a 10 percent commission. I enjoyed selling and thought it was a lot of fun. I hoped I would continue to enjoy it. I only wished the red tape were less. As one of the main Western Auto stores in the area, we determined what merchandise would be sold in northeastern Ohio. On each sales receipt the clerks had to insert the catalogue number for every item sold. Charge sales demanded even more detailed information.

The next day was exactly like the previous one. I supposed most of the days that summer would be the same. Saturday was the busiest day of the week. I sold no tires and nothing on charge. However, I made $140.42 in cash sales and earned $1.95 for myself through commissions. My total for three days of selling was $474.55.

Monday of the second week must have been “tire day.” By selling ten tires, I took in $180 for Western Auto. However, my cash sales amounted to only $58 with no other charges. This evening I walked downtown to the Grill, the local teenage handout.

The next day was a bummer, with $40 in cash and $6 in charges. Actually, I had $66 but the seat covers I sold to some woman did not fit and she had returned them. That evening, again, I went to the Grill for a ten-cent cup-of-coffee.

On the beginning of my second week, I drew my first paycheck. I made $32.10 with $4.28 for my income tax deduction and a sixteen-cent miscellaneous deduction. My net earnings were $27.66. I did not ask about what had happened to my “commissions.” In the mail I found a letter from Wells Vocational reminding me I owed them 10 percent for finding me this job at Western Auto. And so began my employment history.

My life has had several periods; at times they have seemed like eons. I’ve concluded my reflections on the first part: my eighteen years before going off to college. I’ve written both in a memoire style, in which I have remembered the past, and in a journal style, in which I have repeated entries I wrote more than six decades ago. One such entry was a summary as of “Sunday, June 8, 1952″ that presents a view of me from that long-ago time.

“Let’s start this summer off by talking about me, since no one else does. I am five feet eleven inches tall, weigh 210 or there about; have brown hair and blue eyes. I wear glasses for I am nearsighted. I have no marks or scars other than a two-inch welt on my leg from a dog-bite by Dorrie Wenzel’s dog. My I.Q. is well more than a hundred, but my athletic index is below average. For some reason my popularity index is quite low. I have no steady girl, although I like Martha Smith. I have no true enemies and only one rival, Scott Garrett. My one fault is I can’t remember names. Faces I know; names, I don’t. I have an acute inferiority complex brought on by a lack of athletic ability. However, Scott says an admitted inferiority complex indicates a subconscious superiority complex. My one great desire is for a car. My one hate is my father. My favorite hobby is stamp collecting. I also enjoy writing letters to foreign boys. My future holds the occupation of a teacher, biochemist, psychiatrist, or psychologist. My favorite colleges are Kent, Bowling Green, Harvard, Yale or Cornell.”

It’s quite remarkable, I think, how the concluding, predictive views turned out. I did go to Kent for my undergraduate work, earning two degrees: B.S. in Ed. and B.S. with a major in chemistry. Four years later, I completed my Ph.D. at Cornell with a major in biochemistry and minors in organic chemistry and endocrinology. Much of my pleasure has come from teaching adult education in religion and bible studies. I did not earn any degree in psychology, but I’ve applied insights from this discipline throughout my entire life.

My weight at the time I graduated from Cornell reached about 235 pounds; it’s now about 160. My spine has compressed to about 5’9″. Recent cataract surgery has dramatically modified my nearsightedness. I never could do much athletically, but enjoyed walking, until recently when my mobility rapidly changed to a much slower pace. My interest in correspondence with foreign students led to a great (and fulfilled) interest in foreign travel to Europe. My US mint stamp collection begins in the 1920s and continues to the current year. Martha Smith unhappily married and divorced Don Castle. I fell in love and married Karen Swank more than sixty years ago! I still cannot remember names.

In reviewing my journey before Kent, I’m pleased to discover that it may have been more pleasant than I once recalled it to have been. I’ve concluded, thus far, that probably every teenager had less than an ideal, picturesque life. Mine was no different from theirs, but I may have reflected more than many about how it was going at the time. I strongly doubt any of my friends kept a diary, or some sort of record, for as many years as I have. As a result, I know where I’ve been; I’m still interested in where I might be going.

This, for now, completes the second section of the “bronze years,” which continue to include the remaining segments of my formal education, under the tabs “Kent State University” and “Cornell University.” It is then that my life truly began with my meeting, falling in love with, and marrying Karen. This life has continued with an expansion with three children and their spouses, as well as with grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

I have enjoyed rereading old diary entries and writing newer reflections on those early years. I hope whoever may be reading these lines has found them to be entertaining, if not enlightening.

Addendum: In my diary I wrote a several page reflection on what would have otherwise been blank pages. It is dated December 13, 1952, i.e. mid-way during my senior year in high school. However, since these are, perhaps, more philosophical rather than chronological recollections, they are presented here, at the end of my senior year at Niles McKinley. They were composed when I was seventeen, they represent a limited background!

Origin: Instead of drawing a lot of odd lines and characters across the pages of days upon which nothing happens, I intend to write reflections, retrospectives, predictions, philosophic wonders and any other miscellanea that occur to me. However by miscellanea I do not mean the kind of hash fed to gladiators which was termed miscellanea. Or on second thought, perhaps this will become a hash of juvenile adolescentian (sic) origin.

A true philosophic work should start at the origin. According to the ancients, the origin came out of Chaos by Nyx, or Night. But in Christianity the origin is termed God.

Thus God is the Origin. There must be an Origin, ergo there must be a God. There must be a first cause to produce anything and everything. When we trace resulting causes and effects backward, we come to the first cause.

One might say that the earth was the effect of the sun, Sol, in juxtaposition with another star. But where did sol come from? A cloud of condensing gases? And whence comes the cloud? From X? And whence comes X? From the origin and the Origin is God.

Who or What is God? – is to ask for the origin of the Origin. But an origin has no beginning for it is the beginning and the beginning is it. Where is the origin of a circle, where is the origin of a Moibus strip, where is the origin of infinity? Erat. Est. Erit. It was. It is. It will be. So it is with any origin. So it is with the prime origin – Deus.

But by what attributes do we know this divine personification of the Origin? Look but to your own soul, mind, and body for the answer, for there are the greatest attributes of the Divine Origin.

Now you have the anticlimax of the origin – Erit, Est, Erat. The soul will be, the mind is, the body was. The soul is the origin-eternal; the body the origin-temporal; and the mind but the synapse between the temporal and the eternal. The pons-temporis is chained by the body, yet has the wings of the soul. It may attempt flights of fancy, flights of peace and tranquility but it must always return to the body.

The three must exist together for man to be the complete attribute of God. But sometimes Erat departs and man dies in body; sometimes Est departs and man dies in mind; sometimes Erit departs and man dies in soul. The first is proclaimed dead, the second is proclaimed insane, and the third is proclaimed a sinner. Yet in some, the three attributes are stronger than in the ordinary mortal. Then the first is proclaimed ambitious, the second a genius, the third a saint. But woe to him who is lacking or in excess on these three attributes, for mortal man is a jealous creature.

Mortal man is not a perfect creation of the Origin, for numerous times the mind joins forces with the body for mutual pleasure at the expense of the soul. Yesterday and today care but naught for tomorrow. The union of the body and mind goes by the name of evil. The body alone is pleasure; the mind alone is jealousy. Together they double their power and become evil.

If the attributes of the Origin may be Good and/or Evil, may the Origin be Good and/or Evil? By adding or subtracting may the Origin be God and/or Devil?

The ancient Romans had many divinities, many manifestations of the Origin. Some were virginal, Diana; some were rapers, Apollo; some were good, Vesta; some were bad, Dis.

But today we consider the Origin good. Yet can an Origin be truly good if it permits war, poverty, and suffering? A point, but one easily refuted, or is it? While it is true that man produces these three scourges, still the Origin produced man. And still it permits these crimes. Or is the Origin no more than just the origin? Did the Origin produce the beginning and then lose power?

I think not, for while the origin of a circle always was, always is, and always will be, so the Origin of the Universe always was, always is, and always will be, to look after its creations and to hope that they will all carry its three attributes neither in less or greater quantity – for only then will the soul, mind, and body of each individual exist in the perfect harmony of the Origin.

Man and Woman: What is the origin of man and woman? The Hebrews say that God created Adam from the dust and Eve from his rib. The Greeks and Romans adhere to the story of Deucalion and Phyrra who created mankind from thrown rocks. Science claims that algae were the parents of homo sapiens. Depending upon your own beliefs in the matter, choose your own theory of it.

What is man physically? Physically he is a composite of seven tubes of varying size, namely the head, two arms, trunk, penis, and two legs. There are other appendages but these are the main ones. These tubes are packed in wrappings of various types of muscles. The more densely packed and proportionately distributed the better is the individual. Above this there is a scattering of hair upon the arms, legs, chest, etcetera. Supposedly it is most densely allocated on the top of the head. And so except for a few minor embellishment we have the male of the species.

The female is structurally similar except she has nine tubes: eight exterior and one interior. The exterior ones are the head, two arms, trunk, two breasts, and two legs. The interior one provides an accommodation for the corresponding male tube, not to be confused with mail tube. The female has more padding than has the male and the final wrapping is not coarse but very soft. She has an excess of hair only on her head and very sparse on other parts. Of the two, she is physically the more tender, for the male must forage for her. But if the stronger male displeases her, she is in spirit and frenzy twice his match.

A young, handsome male will try many things to win the admiration of a member of the opposite sex. While he might climb the highest mountain, swim the deepest sea, brave the hottest desert sands, or coldest arctic snows for her, he will not venture out of the house for her when it’s raining. But usually the young male will either put on heavy clothing and flex his muscles in a football game or strip down to shorts to thrill her at basketball.

The female in turn, if she is young and well formed, must do little to impress the male. While she might wear a lot of fancy clothes to attract his attention, just the opposite will attract more than just his attention.

During the early years they are quite compatible. They will hold hands, sit in the dark, kiss, and indulge in other forms of companionship – such as going to the movies, dancing, etcetera. In the first years of the period of their life called teenage – they usually go with numerous representatives of the opposing sex. But later a mild but common disease (parvus canis amor) sets in to produce a temporary insanity, termed “going steady.” The symptoms of this are well known – they include: a loss of appetite, increased day dreaming, a lowering of grades (where possible) and more day dreaming.

However the disease is neither serious or permanent for the “going steady” slowly dissolves after a period of time. However in rare cases complications and/or true love sets in and this disease becomes a malady termed marriage. But due to the progress of mankind in the field of medicine, a pill of divorce will usually cure this and get rid of marriage. Occasionally an after-effect of alimony occurs.

Yet in the early stages, and in the later ones too, triangles must be avoided at all costs, especially the P-M-D type. It may be aggravated considerably by the presence of a doctor’s son. The fidelity of M also makes the case stronger to the exclusion of P. Conditions may be alleviated somewhat by the applications of locomotion in the form of a motor vehicle of recent vintage. Otherwise rigor mortis will set in.

[The following is dated 12/31/52. The opening paragraph is a pre-amble.]

V-E Day in Okinawa: I am studying history for a scholarship test I have to take. I am using Miss Campana’s modern history syllabus when I run across a clipping from the Cleveland Plain Dealer. I read it and am moved almost to tears. And so I am recording it here – what is a fine bit of prose by Gordon Cobbledick. The date line is Okinawa, May 8 (1945). The topic “V-E Day?”