08

We interrupt our summer music themes to bring you this Newsletter theme, repeated from exactly one year ago today:

So - does this mean you would like to join us here in our Merry Mayhem?? Oh, I mean, would you care to be added to our Mailing List and our mis-named Alumni List? We'd be delighted to have you!

And tell Richard Hi for me, please!

A Very Happy 61st Birthday today to my beautiful first cousin, Cheryl White Wilson (John Marshall HS - '64) of VA, who from the time of my birth has given me some of the most cherished memories of my life!

		Artist Mows Giant Purple Heart Into Field HAMPTONBURGH, N.Y. (Aug. 5) - An artist has mowed an 850,000-square-foot rendering of a Purple Heart medal into a park field to honor the 75th anniversary of the medal that commends servicemembers killed or wounded in action. Field artist and painter Roger Baker mowed an 850,000-square-foot image of a Purple Heart medal into a lawn at Thomas Bull Memorial Park in Hamptonburgh, N.Y., Sunday. The rendering, unveiled Sunday in Thomas Bull Memorial Park in this city 55 miles northwest of New York City, was done by field artist and painter Roger Baker, whose past works include the Statue of Liberty and Elvis Presley.
Tribute on the Green

According to Baker, the project followed a chance meeting with Bill Bacon, membership director of the Military Order of the Purple Heart. After meeting with officials from The National Purple Heart Hall of Honor and Orange County parks, the plan was on.

The New Windsor Cantonment, in what is now Orange County, was the final encampment of the Revolutionary Army. To honor the service of select troops, Gen. George Washington presented a small purple cloth Badge of Merit - the precursor to the Purple Heart medal.

In 1932, the Purple Heart was awarded to 150 veterans of World War I. The National Purple Heart Hall of Honor opened in New Windsor in 2006.

Baker's design was based on a photograph of the medal awarded to Art Livesey, a Middletown, N.Y., Marine Corps veteran who was wounded at Iwo Jima.

Frank still denies that Marines placed several golf balls into the muzzle of the 2100 Salute Gun at Marine Barracks as a prank, sending golf balls hurling into the sky over Portsmouth, VA.

Adonis, would you be so kind as to forward this to Frank for me? I seem to have lost his email addy in one of my several computer mishaps.

As I'm adjusting to my new computer systems, I keep finding old notes (such as the one above) that have somehow been hiding from me. I'll post them when I locate them.....

From My Niece, Shari, of VA - 08/22/07 - "An 82 year old brave Norfolk, VA Native":

Hi Carol...

Just a few words about Crum's Bakery. If I remember correctly, I went to school with Blaine Crum ('57)..... I always thought that he was so lucky 'cause he could have all the chocolate Éclairs he wanted ...anytime! Yum, Crum's. Perfect name for a Bakery! Was Blaine the son? I was told he was, but never knew for sure. Way too "Shy" to ask! (that should give the folks I know something to say "Yeah...Right!" about.)

I always thought that Blaine ('57) and Larry ('60) and Alma ('64) were children of the owner, too, Sepi, but from the obituary in this morning's Daily Press, I think they must have been his nephews and niece instead:

http://www.nnhs65.00freehost.com/08-23-07-NNHS-Kenny-Crum.html

"Me and Ethel"

Just the perfect Spring day, walking home for lunch, quickly, as usual, I anticipated the lunch my mother had fixed for me. When I got home (Marshall Courts) I found the front door closed and locked. Went to the back door, same thing. Checked the parking lot...no car!...NO CAR!!! Where could she BE? She never went anywhere at lunch with out telling me and packing that delicious PB&J sandwich, never! I checked next door, no one home there either. I needed somebody's bathroom quick! I ran across the parking lot to Wayne Columbia's mom. She was understanding and let me in to use her bathroom. She didn't know where Mom was either. She had LOTS of kids, all ages and her belly was swollen again with another one on the way. I said "Thanks" and flew out the door and half ran, half walked back to school. I wasn't even hungry any more, just worried. I ran up the cement steps at old T.J. and was going up the wooden steps to the first floor, on my way to the second floor and to Miss Suttle's room, maybe she could help. As I reached the last step I looked up and there, looming over me was Miss Taylor!

"Ozora?"

"Yes, Ma'am?"

"I need to see you in my office, dear."

Dear? My little heart was leaping, was I going to die in her office? And for what? I followed her into her dusty smelling, warm office and stood there.

"You may sit down, dear."

I sat.

"I'm afraid I have done an awful thing," she said. I gulped. "I forgot to tell you that your mother called my office around ten to tell me that your neighbor's child fell down the step on the back porch and split his chin. Your mother, sweet soul, took her and the child, along with your little sister of course, to the Emergency Room at Buxton Hospital. I was supposed to tell you before lunch, to go to Mrs. Godwin's House to have lunch, and I got busy and I forgot...I'm so sorry!"

Miss Taylor? Apologizing to me?

"However," she continued," I have done the best I could to remedy my forgetfulness as best I can."

I sat dumbfounded and relieved at the same time, trying to control my breathing.

"I know you must be very hungry and if you will be patient, I'll have something here for you in a few minutes."

Was this the real Miss Taylor? Sure enough, in about three or four minuets I heard adult footsteps slowly coming up the old wooden steps. I looked out the door and saw the Janitor coming directly to the office, and in his hand, a gigantic cup with a top. In the other hand a paper straw. He went to Miss Taylor's desk and sat the cup near the edge close to the center.

"Ezra, would you please pull a chair over beside my desk for Miss Ozora?"

"Yes'um, Miz Taylor."

He picked the wooden chair up as if it were as light as a broom and positioned it right behind the 'mystery cup'.

"Thank you for your help, Ezra, Miss Ozora is very hungry and I appreciate your running the errand."

"Yes'sum, I'se happy to help a hongry chile."

He turned and left to take care of other business. Miss Taylor patted the chair and asked me to come and sit there. I hesitated...

"Come on, I know you are hungry, I hope you like it; it was the best I could do in this location."

She took the the top off the cup, and there, right in front of me was a huge, ice cold strawberry milkshake! Why, it must have cost thirty-five cents, and it was MINE! She put the straw in and carefully handed me the frosty cup. I couldn't drink fast enough, it was cold and thick...the best milkshake ever. My little cheeks were aching from pulling the thick concoction through the straw. Miss Taylor was talking to me in a soft voice, but I wasn't paying attention until a crashing pain in my head (ice cream brain freeze) made me stop abruptly and I heard the last of her sentence ".....and since your father is a fireman, I wondered if he would be willing to come to Jefferson School for a talk about Fire Prevention?"

"Um...I can ask him." I said eagerly, then I saw her in a different light. She didn't look so stern, and I could see gold strands mixed in with the silver, the hair she forever wore pulled back in a severe bun attached with tortoise colored hairpins to the back of her head. Her face was soft and her eyes were green! Like mine! She was a person, a real person!!! She kept talking and I kept tugging on the straw, fascinated by the fact that she was talking to ME ! I don't think she expected me to answer her but just to listen...she had a faraway look in her eyes, and then, "Slurrrrrppppp," My straw had reached the bottom and made that awful sound it makes when you try to get the last drop out of the bottom of the cup!

"Oh no!" I clapped my hand over my mouth. "That's o.k., Dear, you were hungry."

"Excuse me, Miss Taylor, I didn't mean to be rude!"

"That's all right, you excused yourself. I like a child with good manners!"

"Thank you for the milkshake, it was my very favorite flavor. How did you know?"

"Well, when I was a little girl that was my favorite flavor, still is to this day!"

Whoa!!! Miss Taylor used to be a little girl! My world got a little bigger.

"I suppose it's...Oh my!...you're late for class, I'll walk you up and explain to Miss Suttle."

She took my hand and we left the office and headed for the steps to my third grade class. Her hand was soft and warm and she held mine firmly, all the way to inside the classroom. There she let go, and I went to my desk, while she explained to Miss Suttle. She left the room and then popped her head back in and said "You will mention that to your father like I asked, won't you?"

"Yes Ma'am...I will."

Everyone was looking at me, big question marks in their eyes.

Miss Suttle rapped the desk with her pencil and said, " All right, boys and girls, turn to page 12, we'll give Ozora a minute to catch up...I heard her voice start to read, "On the shores of Gitchegoome, by the still and ....." Boy, would I have a HUGE story to tell Mom and Daddy at the supper table!!!!

Next time Daddy, THEN May Day. A story a lot of you have forgotten you remember! Stay connected. Y'all have a sweet day and be good to yourself !!!!

"Dimples" aka Sepi

What a perfectly delightful story, Sepi!

Thank you so much for taking time to share that with us!

From My Niece, Shari, of VA - 08/22/07 - "TAKE A GOOD LONG LOOK ( Important health info.) & a haircut funny":

Hi Carol!

Please tell all our school mates hello for me!

I never thought I would say this, but I have to agree with you and

Dave Spriggs (64) about not reviving NNHS. Many great classes have gone through the halls of the "One And Only NNHS", but our time has passed and I personally would like to keep the good memories as they are.

I hated to hear when NNHS was closed, but selfishly want things to remain as they are; GREAT MEMORIES!!

I realize this may not be an overly popular stand that you, Dave & I have taken, but that's my humble opinion.

God Bless All,

Butch Ragland (Class of '63)
Colorado Springs, Colorado

From Charlie Phillips ('65) of TN - 08/22/07 - "A New Newport News High School":

I read what

Dave (Spriggs - '64 - of VA) and you said concerning having a new school named NNHS. However, If we don’t support a new NNHS then our memories die with us and our year books, web site, collectibles become the trash pile of lost history . Future generations will not remember nor have a chance to hear about the tradition and goodness that was NNHS. Why not look at a new NNHS as an opportunity to mentor future generations about NNHS traditions and their heritage. This could become a mission of all the alumni classes and reunions through meeting with students at there games, rallies, etc. There are numerous ways to influence future classes.

Hi Carol....

I give

Dave Spriggs ('64 - of VA) permission to speak for me anytime about a "New?" NNHS. Very thoughtful, and a sweet idea, Lisa. But 'NO' to clones of NNHS . And I agree with Carol on this 100%. You see, the SPIRIT of NNHS is within all who went there and that is why our school so special. It's not built of brick and mortar, but with a little of each of us that attended this school; it took all the generations that went there to make it what it was, and is, in our hearts and our memories. Our wonderful school still stands in our hearts just as it was when we went there.

Whatever your opinion on this subject, please note that your time is short if you are to take action and voice your opinion.

My beautiful Emily is going thru another barely sleeping phase. It's been 2 to 3 weeks of not to sleep before 7 or 8 in the morning, so I'm signing off 'til late weekend.

HAVE A WONDERFUL WEEK!,

Shari

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http://www.powerofattitudemovie.com/

{They are selling their motivational movies on DVD, so if by chance it doesn't display follow this 2nd link and

choose the one on Attitude.} It should be the 3rd one.

http://www.simpletruths.com/movies/

The Power Of Attitude. *** GREAT, Energetic & Motivating! ***

Too Good to Miss!

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POSITIVITY

What can be better than waking up and saying, "Today is a beautiful day!"

Not much, except perhaps waking up and saying, "Today is a beautiful day and I am going to keep it that way."

It's not always easy to keep our spirits up. You get to work and there's a grumpy coworker, and the boss wants to see you in his office like yesterday about the latest crisis and the cursed computer just won't boot up - just on the day when your IT helper calls in sick - and ...

Stop. The world can get to you, that's for certain. But only if you let it. I know, I probably sound like that Kit Kat commercial from a few years ago (or is it still playing?) where everything goes into blissful slow motion when biting into the chocolate bar. Yes, in fact that's what I mean. Not the chocolate part, but the break part. Take a moment in the washroom if you must to pull yourself together, gather your composure, determine that you will remain positive (even if everyone around you are pulling what's left of their hair our), smile and return to reality fully armed to ride the waves of life like an expert surfer.
Surf's up!

~Daily Dose of Happiness

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At the end of our life, we ought to be able to look back over it from our deathbed and know somehow the world is a better place because we lived, we loved, we were other-centered, other-focused.

~Joe Erhmann, Football coach

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Belief in One Race

It was 1958 in Deep Creek, Virginia. I was 6 years old, and my father was, like most fathers are to their sons, a superhero to me. It never occurred to me that he had a reason to fear anything, because he never showed any fear. My sister had come running into the house, hollering that a bunch of men with guns were outside.

My dad took a look outside and his face darkened a bit. He stuffed his revolver in his back pocket and, as he went out the door, told us to go to the kitchen and stay there.

My mom and my sister looked scared, and kept pulling me back as I tried to get to the window to watch. Although I never got a very good look, I remember seeing a lot of men, with rifles, shotguns and torches, some of them wearing white robes with hoods. There was a lot of shouting and a fair amount of cussing. Since my dad was a sailor, I recognized some of that.

Finally I heard my dad tell them that if they didn't get off his property right then, and never come back, he'd guarantee that at least six of them would never see their families again.

This had started when my father had intervened when a group of young bullies were roughing up a much younger black kid from down the road. These men were telling my dad that he was forgetting his place, and he'd better remember the way things were.

My dad was white, raised in Meridian, Mississippi, during the depression, and he knew very well "how things were". But he had also shared foxholes in Guadalcanal, Iwo Jima, and Korea, with other soldiers, who were scared just like him, missing their families like him, and sick of killing like him. Some of them were white like him, and some of them were black, brown or yellow. But they all bled red just like him. And they all got cold, hungry, sick and sad -- just like him.

My father never took his gun out of his pocket that day. But apparently, the men believed him because they left, grumbling and waving their guns. And they never came back. I wasn't old enough to know how dangerous the situation was that day.

My father always taught me that all you really had to do was what you knew was right -- and then things would pretty much take care of themselves. He proved it that day, and on many other occasions.

Dad was raised in a bigoted culture, by bigots, and taught how to act like a bigot. Everything about Mississippi in the Depression years screamed of racism. He was taught to believe in only one race.

I guess all those foxhole buddies of his helped confirm that, because to the day he died, he only believed in one race: the Human Race.

by Sheldon Campbell, California, USA
Story Editor: Joyce Schowalter

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"You cannot open a book without learning something."

~Marsha Riddick

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"What you leave behind is not what is engraved in stone monuments, but what is woven

into the lives of others."

~ Pericles

From Elaine Wilkinson Bracken ('61) of VA - 08/22/07 - "NNHS newsletter":

I enjoyed so very much the story

Jerry Blanchard ('62 - of VA) wrote about the $2.00 bill. Thanks for the smile, Jerry!

Reunion information is ALWAYS posted very near the top on the front page, and on the Reunion Page section:

As these five messages were consuming so much space on each Newsletter, I've decided just to publish the NEXT upcoming reunion on each Newsletter:

The NNHS Class of 1967
will hold its 40-Year Reunion on Labor Day weekend:

Friday, August 31, 2007 - Friday by the Fountain, City Center/Social, at Red Star Tavern

Saturday, September 1, 2007 - Buffet Dinner/Dance, The Omni Hotel, Newport News

Sunday, September 2, 2007 - Omni Sunday Brunch

More information will follow.....

CONTACTS: Marty - mmccoy@vectec.org;
Wanda - 757-867-9070; or Melissa - 757-874-0094

AND CHECK THIS WEB PAGE FOR THE LATEST INFORMATION - 03/29/07:

http://www.nnhs65.00freehost.com/reunion-class-of-1967.html

Wait until you see all the wondrous items that Norm Covert ('61) of MD, that Sweetie-Pie, just sent me! Thanks, Norm - for everything!

We'll have all those and much more for you - next time!

Y'all take care of each other! TYPHOONS FOREVER! We'll Always Have Buckroe!

(Carl Perkins)

Well it's one for the money, two for the show,
Three to get ready, now go, cat, go.
But don't you, step on my blue suede shoes.
You can do anything but lay off of my blue suede shoes

You can knock me down, step on my face
Slander my name all over the place.
Do anything that you wanna do
But uh uh, honey, lay off of my shoes.
You can do anything but lay off of my blue suede shoes.

You can burn my house, you can steal my car
Drink my liquor from an old fruit jar
Do anything that you wanna do
But uh uh, honey, lay off of my shoes
But don't you, step on my blue suede shoes.
Well, you can do anything but lay off of my blue suede shoes.

Well it's one for the money, two for the show,
Three to get ready, now go, cat, go
But don't you, step on my blue suede shoes.
You can do anything but lay off of my blue suede shoes.

Well it's blue, blue, blue suede shoes
Blue, blue, blue suede shoes yeh!
Well blue, blue, blue suede shoes
Blue, blue, blue suede shoes
Well, you can do anything but lay off of my blue suede shoes.


Monday, July 26, 1948 Carol Randolph Buckley (age 11 months minus four days) and Cheryl Sue White (age 23 months plus three days)	Mother's Day, Sunday, May 9, 1954 Carol Buckley (age 6) and Cheryl White (age 7)	Summer 1954 Cheryl White (age 7) and Carol Buckley (age 6)	Summer 1956 Carol Buckley (age 8) and Cheryl White (age 9)
Richmond, VA	Outside 1309-A 16th Street, Stuart Homes Apartments, looking ENE towards Peterson's Yacht Basin	Buckroe Beach!	Buckroe Beach!

Saturday, June 20, 1964 Carol Buckley (age 16) and Cheryl White (age 17)	Cheryl White Wilson	Monday, April 24, 2006, 8:40 AM Cheryl White Wilson and Carol Buckley Harty	Tuesday, May 8, 2007, 6:48 PM Carol Buckley Harty, Adrienne Harty, Cheryl White Wilson, and Eleanor Buckley Nowitzky
Virgilina, VA		Colonial Heights, VA

It's not Buckroe, but it'll do in a rush! This is sand? Thought this was one you'd enjoy seeing; it all took place in British Columbia. THESE SEEM TO GET BETTER AND BETTER EACH YEAR...

Artist Mows Giant Purple Heart Into Field