High School Years

High School was a lot more enjoyable. I imagine partly because of the older age of the children. Watching my own children grow up I have a real appreciation for teachers who are able to work with 13 and 14 year olds as that seems to be a consistently tough time for most of them and I’m sure it was no different for my generation.

I had several wonderful teachers in high school and a small handful of great friends. Debbie Barrow and I were almost inseparable. We had several classes together, but especially enjoyed a graphic arts class with Mr. Wheeler. Debbie’s mom was married to an alcoholic and my parents had divorced the summer I was in 9th grade and Mr. Wheeler was exactly the calm, funny, encouraging adult male we needed in our lives. We learned a lot about setting type, offset printing, silk screening, design and layout and photography. We even developed our own black and white and color pictures in a darkroom. Since we didn’t have computers or digital cameras yet, we spent hours adjusting developing times to get different effects on the photos. I’m sure the developing chemicals must have been carcinogenic by the odors wafting off of the trays they were in, but we didn’t care.

Gladys and Paul, my dad’s sister and brother-in-law, took Allison and I to Europe the summer our parents divorced. Roy told Allison and I what was happening while we were there, so we weren’t taken totally by surprise at the airport when we returned. I don’t really remember being aware there were any problems between our parents, but it’s probably that I was living in my own, self-absorbed teenage years. The trip to Europe was fantastic. We had borrowed Uncle Paul’s brothers Volkswagen van (he lived in Italy). We went to Austria, Luxemburg and Italy- Uncle Paul and I would hike in the mountains, Gladys and Allison would prepare lunch and we just had a great time. I had never seen a chair lift or gondola before and we often rode these as well. It was very pastoral with the cows having bells around their necks (no feed lots!) and grazing in the fields. We stayed in a castle the very first night we were there- the rooms had feather comforters and boy were we impressed. We were at a good age to appreciate the history and beauty of Europe as well.

Mom worked hard on her PhD while we were in middle and high school. Since we were at school as well, I don’t think I really appreciated the full effort at the time, but I did like eating in the cafeteria at UCSB once a week. I was especially fond of Jell-O and chocolate milk, items that we did not eat at home.

AMIGOS DE LAS AMERICAS had a life long impact. I was involved for two years and Allison and Roy for 3 or 4 years. We would spend our summers in South America or Central America, assisting in inoculation programs, dental programs and general medical care. Allison and Roy moved up the chain and were route leaders, supervising the “worker bees.” My language skills were not very good, so I didn’t make it past the worker bee stage. I did develop a fine appreciation for life in the United States and the privileged situation we were fortunate to be born to. As an adult, I have always tried to serve in positions benefiting those in need and seem to have instilled a desire in my daughters to serve as well. Kate and I try to go on a mission trip together yearly in the southern hemisphere- providing eye exams and glasses. Judy feels the pull of providing medical care in Africa when she is finished with her college years.

Amigos also helped develop a fine work ethic. We met weekly during the school year, learning Spanish, learning to inject each other, learning about other cultures. We also raised the funds necessary for our trips. We had many dime a dip dinners- potlucks where you paid a dime for each spoonful of food on your plate. We also put on a 20 mile walk each year with sponsors paying us for each mile walked. I also worked cleaning houses after school to earn money for Amigos.

The first car I remember was a dark blue station wagon. I suppose I was under 5 years of age. There were no seatbelts in the car and we sat anywhere and everywhere. I remember sitting in the middle seat and hanging over the front seat talking to whoever was in the front. We would sleep in the back, just lying in the area where groceries would go, no restraints of any kind. There certainly wasn’t anything remotely resembling a baby car seat. We had a red MG also. It was pretty sporty, could comfortably seat two, uncomfortably seat all six of us. It did have a stick shift and seemed very daring for a family car. Roy, Allison and I all learned to drive on a 1969 mustang. Automatic, V8 engine, white paint. Talk about power! We all had a variety of accidents in this car ranging from hydroplaning on a highway underpass (Allison) to being nailed by a classmate driving an old truck with a massive wood “bumper” bolted to his front end (Joanne). I also received a very traumatic speeding ticket in this car- had to go to juvenile court with mom and after a tearful apology and promises never to speed again I was off the hook without a fine. I inherited this car when I went to college in Oregon. At that point I discovered just how leaky the windshield was when the carpet was consistently soggy with a not so wonderful moldy odor.