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It was a warm August day in 1944 when I made my Earthly debut in Indianapolis, Indiana, five years after my brother. Our family traveled extensively during my early years as my father was a career army officer. I’m told that I lived in Heidelberg, Germany for one year during the early postwar years. I do not recall the experience myself as I was about two years old at the time. My parents also told me that I learned the word "kaput" - the German word for "broken" - because I saw many bombed-out buildings there. Again, I was too young to remember any of it. We finally settled in the Detroit area when my father retired from active service in 1952.

I attended Hilger elementary school on Detroit’s east side during my kindergarten through fourth grade years. Moving on, I switched to a Lutheran parochial school through the eighth grade. I finished my primary education at Cass Technical High School, graduating in 1962. I remember - all too well - eight years of riding to school in overcrowded electric buses. Getting a seat was a rare and cherished occasion, but what do you want for 15 cents? Cars? Who had cars? Nobody I knew. Nonetheless, my years at Cass hold many fond memories. The high school years, I think, probably represent the best compromise between freedom and responsibility. I established many close friendships, some of them lasting to this very day. We thought nothing of walking to Hudson’s "downtown" after class once or twice a month to enjoy a Sundae or milk shake in its cafeteria. And, of course, there was a hamburger joint two blocks from school that always had rock music blasting from the jukebox. Those 25 cent hamburgers and greasy fries were oh-so-good!

I thought I would - at this point - include something I put together for a presentation I made at my 30 year class reunion in 1992. Attendees previously were asked - "Would you attend Cass again?" I couldn’t believe the memories that poured from me 30 years later. I hope the reader will, in some small way, capture the flavor of this bygone era. Here goes . . . .

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WOULD I GO TO CASS AGAIN?

I still remember that hot summer day in 1958. At the ripe old age of 14, I'm riding the electric bus down Grand River with the downtown skyline growing ever so larger. I exit at an uninspiring area of tattered buildings dwarfed by one very large structure looming over the rest.

I start toward the large grey building, passing a line of derelicts waiting entry to a five-buck-a-pint commercial blood bank. Now I'm approaching a large, intimidating door and realize that my throat is so tight that it feels like I'm being strangled from the inside and my mouth is so dry that I know I'm going to spit up cotton any second.

Today, I'm to take the entrance exam to Cass Tech. I stop and think for a long, hard minute - enter, or turn around and go home - a monumental decision. I think of my mother (Class of '28) and my brother (Class of '58) who have gone before me. In I go.

After a stuttering query, I'm directed to a room packed with what seemed like hundreds of would-be students and two or three adult test monitors that don't look at all friendly. I look around a see many frightened and uncertain faces along with several who bravely put on nonchalant facades. Suddenly, I don't feel so bad - we're all in the same boat. A week-or-so later, I get the suspenseful results - I'm in......PHEEEW!

First day of school - the knotted throat returns - thought I was over that - guess not. With a bulging student population of 5000+, I'm lucky to snag what must be the last unclaimed locker in the eight story building. Why is there a different group of students in every class? Twenty two minutes for lunch? Can't leave the building? Don't get out 'till 4:15? The day is long and trying, but I muddle through - don't know if I'm ready for this!

Over the next few weeks I manage to make my new environment almost - but not quite - routine; I'm almost - but not quite - comfortable. Sure wish the upper-classmen would stop making fun of us freshies.

I'm in the 9-A now and I think I've got the hang of it - but not without cost. I watched my A- average from grade school ebb to a mediocre C at Cass. And I'm working harder. Guess I'm learning just what it means to attend a school with a reputation for high standards.

A poet once lamented that it's a pity youth is wasted on the young. Not entirely so in my case. I'm only half way through the ninth grade, but I'm well aware that this is a magic time and this a magic school. I consider myself so very fortunate that I still have 3 1/2 more years to spend at Cass.

But time passes. Freshman and sophomore years come and go. My junior year is witness to many friends who fall by the wayside - dropping out and presumably attending neighborhood schools. A good friend of mine from grade school is a tenth grade causality of Cass and then achieves honor roll status at his neighborhood high. If I had any doubts about Cass's standards, they are dispelled now.

Although I'm enjoying my youth more than Lord Byron surmised, I don't realize the underlying training and conditioning taking place in the shadows of math, English, and the sciences. Character and discipline are being forged in us young Cassites. The likes of such educators as Raymond E. "let's get it right" Ulveling; Joseph "little Joe vector" Zukowski; "whispering" Roy Hocking; Douglas "the molecule" Mozzatta; Joseph "the liberator" Bosco; Donald "babyface" O'brien, and countless others are surreptitiously sculpting our minds under the guise of teaching us the three R's. What treachery - this evil plot to prepare us for the future!

The remaining two years accelerate at an alarming rate. The rides downtown on packed busses with a stack of books under one arm while the other hand holds the overhead rail tightly as the driver guns the electric motor; the midnight and later study sessions; the frantic pace to finish papers on time; the 22 1/2 minute lunch periods in a packed lunchroom; the mad rush to get from a second to an eighth floor class on time; dealing with Annie, the elevator operator; getting two study halls sandwiched into my schedule; zero hours; the instructors who don't know what it means to be less than perfect - or worse yet - those who think their's are the only classes I have; the student teachers; the forty year veteran teachers; the diversity of students - including the friendly, the meek, the aggressive, the studious, the snobs, the cut-ups, the tall, the short, the athletes, and the disabled; my profound hatred of honor students (well...not really!): these are the miseries (or qualities) that make Cass what it is....OK....I admit it - I love it all.

I wake one morning to the reality that I ARE a 12-A senior. It seems barely a few weeks go by before I'm in the auditorium for commencement ceremonies. Where did the time go? My four year tenure as a Cassite is over. Clearly a time that will never come again, nor can it ever be duplicated. I know it as a senior, and I knew it as a freshie. A precious experience that will forever be interred into the corridors of time.

Would I have gone to Cass again?

In a heartbeat then.

In a heartbeat now.

Never did bring my average above a mediocre C, though.

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Those years, of course, were the magical years of my life. Heck, my only real worry was staying out of trouble! I cherished such radio programs as "the Lone Ranger," "Sky King," "Archie Andrews," "Space Patrol," "Life With Luigi," and countless others. When I was about eight, I was introduced to a relatively new technology called television. Our first TV set had an eight inch screen - black and white of course - and a real wood cabinet. We had three channels to choose from in those days - 2, 4, and 7. Channel 9 came a little bit later, and channel 56 a little after that. Now we’re talking big time! Do the shows "Bozo’s Big Top," " Howdy Doody," "Rin Tin Tin," "Science Fiction Theater," "I love Lucy," " The Mickey Mouse Club," "American Band Stand," or the "Today Show," with Dave Garaway, Jack Lescouli, and Frank Blair bring back any memories to you? You score a bonus point if you remember J. Fred "Muggs" Muggery, And, please, let’s not forget Soupy Sales!

As I recall, I had a budding interest in science and technology by about age eight or so. Of course, erector sets and chemistry sets were standard issue for boys at the time. I can remember spending countless hours with my brother, cousins, and friends - tinkering together home-made rockets. We built them from scratch, developing our own technology. We experimented with many different kinds of combustion engines. I should point out that the ingredients to make gun powder and other propellants were readily obtainable at any drug store as these were more innocent times. Can you imagine a kid walking into a drug store today and asking for a bottle of potassium nitrate? Or glycerin? By the way, our rocket technology is still highly classified even to this very day!

Many of us also had avid interests in photography, astronomy, and electronics. I was the only one, however, to obtain and amateur radio license. It was fascinating to communicate with other "hams" from all over the country via Morse code. You get ten bonus points if you know what a "sharp cutoff pentode" is. I also remember pocket size transistor radios first becoming available in 1955 or so. They were awesome! But with a price tag of $50, they represented half a week’s typical pay at the time. Yes, those were the days!

After high school, I attended several colleges including Highland Park College, Wayne County Community College, Macomb County Community College, and finally Wayne State. My early years of college were, shall we say, lackluster. My motivation to obtain a college education was, many times, neutralized with ambivalence. Add to this the family factor. My wife and three children were my central focus for two decades. A semester every once in a while was about all I could muster. I had a grand total of 30 credits by 1982 - some 20 years after high school! But still I pushed forward. It wasn’t until the mid ‘90s, however, that I told myself to get with the program. I was humbled by two of my "kids" graduating college before me! With much self prodding, the support of a loving (second) wife, and the guidance of an excellent ISP staff of caring professors - I finally reached that elusive 120 credit mark in 1999. I don’t mind saying that I was quite proud of myself during Wayne’s last commencement ceremony of the 1900s. And so my 36 year quest for a degree came to fruition. I did it!!!!!!!!!

I currently reside with my wife, Doreen, and our two cats, Dreyfus and Dickens, (they graciously allow us to live with them) in Shelby Township and we enjoy the "full time job" of redecorating our home. As to be expected, my "honey-do" list has a two year backlog of projects. I’m a 21 year engineering employee of a defense contractor in Sterling Heights, and my wife is a 12 year management employee of a managed health care company in Southfield.

I have found that my thirst for knowledge seems to increase with the passage of time and I’ll be continuing my education in the MIS program. Additionally, I have a ton of books to read - but who knows when I’ll ever get to all of them?

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