Alamosa High School

The Moose Returns, again

by Donald Crawford

Donald Crawford has gotten the urge to remember his high school days.  Frank’s write-up has me up at 4:30 AM because I can’t sleep thinking about the ole high school days.  It is now mid-March 2012 and the gauntlet has been passed to me by Frank Newton.

I have read and re-read the write-ups offered by our journalistic friends Ann and Olivia and there is no way I can match them in wisdom or sheer number of words but their writings have encouraged me to start writing this chapter of the Blog.  I have also read Larry Cox’s, Tom Higel’s and Frank Newton’s contributions and all of these ramblings seemingly leave few stones unturned.  I hope all of you have enjoyed reading these other muses as much as I have.

Who can remember everyone in grade school??

It seems to me that my memories of high school will be different than many of yours, but, then again, maybe not.  I will start by rambling through the many thoughts and maybe somewhere along the line some semblance of order will take over.  We, Jana and I, were talking with some friends the other day about high school classmates and I commented that out of 99 students in our graduating class there may be as many as 50 that were also in 1^st grade at Central Elementary.  I won’t remember them all but some that I do remember are: Rosemary DeHerrera, her father was a janitor at Central and used to let me into the furnace room on those cold mornings we sometimes had; Margie Curtis, my first date- I think we met at the movies and paid our own way in- don’t remember about popcorn; David Bailey, we spent lots of time together including playing baseball in the field next to his home; Tom Ormond, he lived out on the co-op  road so I don’t recall how we got together or what we did-sorry Tom;  Wayne Jarrell, we were in first grade together and friends all through high school; Gabby Martinez was also in my first grade class along with Jackie Johnson.  Another first grader that was not in my class was one of my favorite cousins, Diane Wagner- we, of course, have way more memories than can be shared here.  There were two first grade classes at Central, if I remember correctly.

Below is a photo of my First Grade Class- I’m the cute one on the front row with his head cocked to one side!  Do you recognize everyone there?  I don’t.  But this is what memories are made of and as we get to our advanced ages some of these memories start to fade.

Tragedy strikes…followed by disaster

The summer I turned 10 my family was in an automobile accident that killed three, including my father, and left me in the hospital with two broken legs from the end of July through the middle of November. I missed the beginning of that school year, I think the fourth grade, and had to have a tutor visit me in the hospital to keep up with my class. It seems almost every fall after that year I would miss the first two weeks of school while having corrective surgery on one or the other or both of my legs. During my initial stay in the hospital Diane and her parents, Marce and Dick Wagner, visited daily. I spent most of my summers before high school in the mountains with Marce, Dick and Diane camping. Marce was my mother’s sister.

 Frank Newton and I met the first time when I came to school in middle school, Evans Jr High.  Frank went to Boyd Elementary. I had missed the first days of school with surgery on one of my legs. That was the beginning of a friendship that has lasted to this day and hopefully beyond. Jana & I and Frank & Elaine have been friends and stayed in touch on a regular basis through all of the years. We have many memories from all of those years but those are stories to be told at a different place and time. Some stories might even surprise you.

I was not involved in many of the class extra-curricular activities as I worked at Milk Maid Bakery all through high school and most of college. Many times I was on the outside wishfully looking in, too shy to participate. I spent a couple of years as manager for the basketball team – basically shagged balls and kept statistics during the games. I was able to travel with the team to away games my freshman and sophomore years.

I think it may have been the winter of my sophomore year that Gary, Frank, myself and some others were on Wolf Creek Pass tobogganing.  I was riding front position when the toboggan hit a hole in the snow and my feet came out of the stirrups and dug into the snow catapulting the toboggan over my head and shattering my left knee cap in the process.  I have been told by Frank that when he and Gary went to tell my mom I was in the hospital that it was one of the most difficult things they ever had to do. 

Let’s talk poker, being cool, and music

I remember we had a poker group that played poker almost every Friday night.  Some times at my home, my mother liked that, and other nights at Wayne Jarrell’s home, his dad liked to play when we were there.  This group included Frank Newton, Gary Dabney, Wayne Jarrell, Larry Cox, Dave Dawson and yours truly on a pretty regular basis.  There may have been some others who played occasionally.  I think our parents all liked that we played poker as they had a pretty good idea where we were and that we were not getting in trouble or out drinking.

I remember that some of the boys, probably not yet men, decided that we did not appreciate the girls, all of them ladies, that chose to wear jeans on Fridays.  On those days we chose to wear suit and tie; shirts, pants and shoes, also.  Can’t comment on socks and underwear, they were optional, lol.  I do not remember whether this was a onetime occurrence or that it lasted for multiple Friday jean days.

We had a music group for a short period.  The group included Tom Higel at piano; Robin McGee, class of 59, at the stand-up acoustical bass; Rueben Gillespie, class of 59, bass singer; JC Roberts, class of 61, tenor; Frank Newton, tenor; Don Crawford, tenor and Barry Turner.  We sang Elvis songs along with Kingston Trio and other popular singers of the time.  We did not do any original stuff at all.  We did perform at a few functions and even had one gig over in San Luis.  We got chased out of town, not for bad singing but for showing an interest in the local girls.  I was driving my mother’s car, a 1952 straight six Ford coupe and blew up the engine somewhere between Alamosa and Blanca.  I am not sure how I explained this to Mom.  I have to say she loved me, as I got away with a lot of things.

The good news: we didn’t get thrown in jail…

However, there was the time that some young boys from Wyoming drove by the high school one noon hour and said some things to the girls that we took offence to.  Wayne Stribling, Gary Dabney, Wayne Jarrell, Frank Newton, Don Crawford, and probably a few others jumped in cars and caught up with these Wyoming studs west of Alamosa and managed to scare them and damage their car.  We were all called in by sheriff, Ben Phillips, the next day.  My mother told me then that if I ended up in jail I was on my own.  I do not know for sure if she really meant that or not—I never tested her.  I’m smarter than you think.  We did have to pay for damages to the Wyoming car.

Some of the things I remember around town are salty dogs at Murray Drug Store and Nazarro’s for pizza, I remember the twins, also.   They were pretty hot chicks, but not in our class (actually or figuratively).  The class of 1960 is in a class of its own.  Broasted chicken and potatoes at the drive inn owned by Ray and Helen Heck.  Larry Cox married their daughter, Sharon (first marriage).  The seeming endless trips from one end of town to the other—it won’t be as much fun now with east bound traffic on Sixth Street and west bound traffic on Main street.  The temperature would drop 5 degrees sometimes while waiting for the stop light to change at State and Main.  But it was a dry cold.

I am sure that as some of you read through this you will remember some of the things differently and with different people than I have.  I guess that is really what is important about memories, not how accurate, but how they are, memories.  So I know that when I pass this moose on to Charles Knoop that more memories will be added.