Do you have a favorite story from those good ole DHS 1979 high school days?
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Dearborn High School Dearborn, Michigan Memories of 1979 Volume 61, Issue A
By: David Johnson
After several of Tim "MAC" Ginni's 4x4 jump demonstrations, Dave Stucky tries to jump a snow bank in the student parking lot....only to find himself high centered on the lane divider rail.
By: Jim Shedd
Thanks Wolt for suggesting I shut down their star scorer. I may have it confused with our loss to Thurston. . .but I think their front line averaged 6'10" and the guy you were covering was 6'5"! 'Little' wonder we came up short!
You know, thinking back fondly about the great times and friendships forged in the classroom, on the field, and at "The Vent," what stands out most about my DHS experience is the impact one educator had on my life. He was extraordinarily demanding, but his expectation of preparation, tenacity and excellence has left an indelible mark on my character and my performance in life. I'm talking about Gene Snell.
Mr. Snell was a coach, mentor, father figure, and friend. As much as I cursed him then for the relentless wind sprints, the frequent "Woody Hayes" face masking and sideline punches, or the 'Bobby Knight" style locker room eruptions, it was clear that he was serious about his commitment to coaching and passionate about molding us into winners.
What you may not know about Gene Snell is that he was a husband and father who, taught English by day, coached two sports at night, and also taught drivers education on weekends, and throughout the summer. The guy was just totally committed to making a difference in ALL our lives.
What I learned from him, alongside my teammates, Craig, Steve, Russ, Rick, et al. has been invaluable. I'm nearing 50 and still out performing most I meet, thanks to the big heart and work ethic I developed under Gene's mental and physical 'Boot Camp to Become a Man."
Thank you sir.
Love, Jim Shedd
By: Barry Brim and Kimberly Koos
I don't have a story, but would like to submit some
"Do you remember's"
By: Kathleen Milinko
Who remembers the top songs of our senior year? See if you remember these...
By: Bill Dean
BEAT EDSEL
In true cake-eater fashion, us Pioneers pooled enough cash to rent a helicopter to fly over the Dearborn/Edsel football game. As you remember, the chopper pulled a sign reading "BEAT EDSEL". (The original wording, "EDSEL S___S!", was a valuable asset during the fund-raising stage of the caper, but was replaced at the last minute by something more tasteful.) The arrival of the helicopter was timed perfectly; we had just scored to make it 19-0 in the 4th quarter. The cheering on the Dearborn side was never louder, and the silence on the other side never quieter. The pilot circled, once, twice, three times....five times....ten times.....fifty times.....a hundred times.....the freakin' guy wouldn't leave! The constant droning of the rotor blades drowned out the P.A. announcer. Cheerleaders covered their ears. Young children cowered beneath the bleachers. Babies cried. Old men wept. But it was worth it.
A LESSON ABOUT COLOMBIA
It's no secret that Colombia was, and still is, a source of marijuana. Innocent fact, you say? Well, not if your Spanish teacher's name is Candace. Ken Tiseo argued that he was simply a thorough researcher of South American export practices when he included this information in his presentation to the Spanish class. His classmates' prolonged laughter that followed this observation seemed to indicate otherwise. The ensuing phone call from Ken's Spanish teacher to Ken's mother was probably not to congratulate her for the thoroughness of Ken's research practices.
A SECRET GARDEN
Speaking of South American plants, what was that funny looking thing growing in Dottie Wolf's house plant?
THE TEXAS FOOTBALL TRANSFER
There was a rumor that a big high school football star from Texas was transferring to DHS for our senior year. Anybody else remember that one? I think it even made the front page of our well-respected tabloid, THE OBSERVER. Turned out to be a sham, but nobody claimed credit for it.
ON A CLEAR DAY IN MAY
On the track team, there's Varsity, and then there's junior varsity. As one of the latter who struggled for three years to become the former, I can appreciate the effort required. Sometimes that effort pays off in small rewards, sometimes it pays off big, and sometimes. . .lightning strikes on a clear day in May. Max Rudolph, another runner who struggled to make Varsity, shocked everyone when he advanced to the finals of the 220 yard dash in the biggest meet of the year, the League meet. Here was Max, completely unknown, standing alongside the best sprinters from eight schools. Here was Max, with no business finishing anywhere but last, firing out of the blocks at the crack of the starter's pistol. And finally, here was Max, pulling into the lead along the final turn, and crossing the finish line first. I saw it and I still don't believe it.
THE WESTERN CLUB
An excuse to get together, sit around a campfire, tell lies and drink a whole lotta beer. Nothing more. What more could you want? THE WATER BUG? I'll never forget the time that a bunch of us guys on the track team secretly absconded with Coach Bridges' yellow VW beetle. We pushed it around to the back of the school, rolled it into the auto shop, completely dismantled the car, carried it piece by piece through the locker room to the pool deck, completely re-assembled it, and pushed it into the deep end of the pool. OK, OK, we never got beyond the planning stages with that idea, but just thinking about it relieved some of the pain of those barf-inducing hill repeats.
THAT BLUR
Who can forget Tim Rauh's haunting performance in The Child Buyer (?), or whatever the play was called. The script called for Tim to sit frozen in a chair, front and center, and remain silent and motionless, unblinking eyes fixed straight ahead as the scenes played out behind him. A rumor, never fully substantiated, was that this was not a dramatic theatrical device employed by the director, but was meant as punishment for Tim, who constantly screwed up his lines during rehearsal. (An interesting footnote: Many students took advantage of this opportunity to "see" Tim for the first time. Prior to this performance, Tim's "record" for sitting quiet and motionless was 1.4 seconds, so most students only knew Tim as "that blur".)
By: Tim Rauh
The usual crew was at the lunch table when Rich Lisowski mentioned he was broke and needed money to go buy a Hostess cup cake. He hit Soltis up first who turned him down flat as he usually did. He then tried me, Tom Jankowski, Dave Johnson and the others. No luck. Then Soltis said, "I'll give you the money if you let me pour milk on your head." "NO WAY", said Rich, "I'll starve first." Soltis, ever with the eye for noticing a waver of doubt in the bargaining opponent, said, "I'll give you $5.00 to pour milk on your head!" For the next ten minutes, it was a bid war! I think it was at $12.50 that "the deal" expanded to two cartons of milk and it stopped at $22.30 or so when he agreed to 3 cartons of milk! We were on the 3rd carton when the lunch room attendant came rushing over to save Rich from this odd, dousing ritual. He calmly looked up at her with a smile and said "It's ok. I'm getting paid for this." He spent the rest of the day in his gym clothes and had enough cup cake money for weeks after.
By: Anonymous
Please note the names are changed to protect the innocent...and the person who submitted this prefers to remain anonymous.
Mr. Welch, used to give same test to the morning class and his afternoon class. Well someone, we'll call this person, Curly, figured it out. Curly must've been on a roll, kicking tail on the tests. One day, Mr. Welch decided to let people have their scores announced before the class. Curly, proud as a peacock, submits to this. Mr. Welch then says, "On this morning's test you scored 94. On your test you scored 13."
By: Tim Rauh
It was lunch, the hour before Mr. Marshall's advanced math class and Rich Lisowski was trying to finish his homework. This was a daily exercise for Rich. Ready to help with a load of bogus information was the usual crew of myself, Tom Jankowski, Dave Soltis, Dave Johnson, Ralph Evangelista and Rob Rosenfeldt. Rich said "I can't get this problem, it says the planets of our solar system are of various diameters, mass and orbits." Rich went on to explain that the problem gave various sizes, masses and speeds of rotation of the planets and finally ended by asking... "What is the diameter of Uranus? and how did you determine it?" I remember it was Dave Soltis who thought, but a moment and said "That's sort of a personal question, Rich. It varies, but I'd say a good guess is about an eighth of an inch." Rich made a funny face, but did not catch on. So I added that the answer to the second part of the question was that the diameter could easily be found by standing with one's back to a mirror, lowering one's pants and bending over. Use a ruler if you want to be precise. There was a true chemical/physiological reaction (the likes or which I've not seen since) when Rich got our answer. It was the velocity and the volume of the milk that shot out of Rich's nose that keeps this story so vivid in my memory after all of these years.
By: John Hutchinson
I`ll never forget the Senior Ski Trip to Blue Mountain. The bus could not make it all the way to the top where we were staying at the Arrowhead Ranch, so we had to walk our luggage/skis through the ice and snow just to get to sleep! I think it was the third morning when rumors spread like a brush fire that Keith Walker overdosed during the night. Of course, this turned out not to be true, but it was scarry never the less. This weekend was memorable for a few reasons:
Now if I had only lost my virginity the weekend would have been a total success!!
By: The Metal Edge
I forget who was the mastermind behind the egg toss but it is a fond memory to me. The plot egg DeStigter, the plan don't tell anybody and run like hell. It was a beautful spring morning when I parked the car in the street behind the school and headed for the B-hall bathroom (not uncommon). Awaiting my arrival were my three counter parts who's names I should not mention (Keith, AKA Mickey, Bob, AKA crotch man, and Ed). Classes had already started except for us (also not uncommon). In a brown paper bag someone brought a dozen eggs in the carton, a pair of panty hose and a twenty-five cent hard plastic Mickey Mouse mask left over from Halloween I guess. Keith called the mask and we decided to cut up the panty hose. I grabbed a leg, Ed grabbed a leg and Bob well he had the left overs which consisted of the waist band, the crotch, and two stumpy legs that flopped over like ears when he pulled them over his head. That alone was almost funnier than what we were about to do. Next each of them grabbed two eggs and myself not wanting good food to go to waste held on to four eggs and what was now a miniature carton.
We headed out down B-hall. Mickey opens the door and throws, then Ed, then crotch man, then me. I remember him wheeling his chair around and starting to get up, the people in the room were bug eyed, and busting out laughing. I don't know if any eggs actually even hit him cause we were gone. We were down the hall, out the back door, over a fence and into the car probably quicker than Tim Rauh ran the mile. We were sworn to secrecy until after graduation. Man those were the days.
Hey Mr. DeStigter, if your out there I LOVE YOU MAN, THANKS FOR THE MEMOIRES.
By: Ruth Brasie
Hey, who remembers what a blast we had? I remember swimming in the ocean in the middle of the night. Sneaking into the casinos and playing the slots. Drinking "legally" until we were half dead. Don't think I could win a limbo contest like I did then ;-).
By: Julie Giles
Eric Peterson attempting to DRIVE his Jeep 4x4 up the outside steps to the band room before one our our many Jazz Band concerts.
Going to a party the week after Lynard Skynard band members' deaths in a plane crash, and hearing boys crying, and holding up their tickets for the upcoming LS concert, saying "I'm gonna frame these under plexiglass."
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