1966 - Yearbook - What memories!

One of my dearest high school friends wrote this poem in my yearbook. I cannot say that it was written especially for me. You see, my dad was transferred the beginning of May '66 and I was not there to personally get my friends to autograph my book.

Our high school, Wagner, was located on Clark AFB in the Philippines. We were Military Brats living in the PI. What a life that was. Imagine being a teen and living in the tropics, having plenty of free transportation, assigned no responsibilities except for going to school; all your needs taken care of--everyone had at least one house girl and a yard boy. It was a remarkable life for a teen.

It was also a life lived during the escalation of the Vietnam War. My father was on alert the entire time we lived in this paradise. He was assigned to a "MASH"-type unit. We never knew when he would not be coming home. Our family ended up being transferred back to the states when my dad had minor heart attack due to the stress of his job. Or at least that is what I was told.

The base and the high school no longer exist. That school year, 1965 to 1966, was a magical one for me. I had three extraordinary pals who are to this day the most creative thinkers I have ever known.

I have reconnected with all three of my buddies. Mike was the most talented writer in our little group. Of course, Wes and Bob (the other two) would dispute that. Mike was the tallest. He had the most freckles. I also knew next to nothing about him. I just knew he was the silent leader. The man in charge. The ONE to whom we all paid homage.

The last time I saw him was in Austin, TX in the spring of 1968. Then he disappeared from my realm (I was a princess, you see).