The Yearbook: Margaret

The year was 1982. We danced to Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” album and watched “E.T.” on the silver screen. John Belushi died and Prince William was born. We exercised  to Jane Fonda video tapes and never missed watching “Dynasty” on TV. Gas cost 91 cents a gallon and a stamp two dimes. We were spooked by the Tylenol scare and held our breath as the recession began.

It was a year of promise and pain, of sweetness and sorrow.

But it was OUR year. 

We were the Class of 1982, and we were ready to take on the world.   

Margaret (Yearbook post/1982)

Gina, to one of my dearest friends that I love very much. Always think of me as a friend and remember that I’m here if you need me. Never forget all the good times we had. Good luck in everything you do, and take care of Mike. When I look at you, I realize that you are aggressive and you’ll go far. Remember me always, Luv ya, Maggie

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3/25/12

I never thought of myself as aggressive, but I guess I am. I wonder if that’s a bad thing. Maybe yes and maybe no. Guess it depends on the situation. I think it’s worked well for me most of my life, but there was at least one time when being too aggressive cost me a friend.

The Yearbook: Cookie

The year was 1982. We danced to Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” album and watched “E.T.” on the silver screen. John Belushi died and Prince William was born. We exercised  to Jane Fonda video tapes and never missed watching “Dynasty” on TV. Gas cost 91 cents a gallon and a stamp two dimes. We were spooked by the Tylenol scare and held our breath as the recession began.

It was a year of promise and pain, of sweetness and sorrow.

But it was OUR year. 

We were the Class of 1982, and we were ready to take on the world.   

Cookie (Yearbook post/1982)

Gina, you’re a crazy, crazy girl and we shared so many laughs together this year. I’ll miss ya next year. I’m sure you’ll be a success and I’ll try to keep in touch. Love, Cookie

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3/23/12

Funny that Amy – we called her Cookie – thought I was crazy. She was the crazy one. What I liked most about her is that she blazed her own path. Some days, she’d come to school dressed in the wackiest stuff, liked multicolored striped socks with a houndstooth skirt and stripped shirt. It would look totally ridiculous on me, but on Cookie, it looked perfect. 

I admired her for her spirit, and I always wished I could be more like her. Cookie never worried about what others thought of her. She was comfortable in her skin. And confident. Some of my girlfriends made fun of Cookie.  But I think deep inside they wished they could be more like her.

The Yearbook: Peter

The year was 1982. We danced to Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” album and watched “E.T.” on the silver screen. John Belushi died and Prince William was born. We exercised  to Jane Fonda video tapes and never missed watching “Dynasty” on TV. Gas cost 91 cents a gallon and a stamp two dimes. We were spooked by the Tylenol scare and held our breath as the recession began.

It was a year of promise and pain, of sweetness and sorrow.

But it was OUR year. 

We were the Class of 1982, and we were ready to take on the world.   

Peter (Yearbook post)

Gina,  To a really nice girl I met in homeroom. Take care. Peter

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3/20/12

I’m just going to say it. Peter creeped me out.  It seemed like he was always watching me. I’d catch him staring at me in homeroom or in the hallway. His locker was down from mine.

When he asked to sign my yearbook, I didn’t want to be a snob and say no. But I was glad he didn’t write much.

No one has ever made me feel so uncomfortable.  I was never afraid of Peter. It’s not like I thought he would hurt me.  His stares were more of a longing  – like he wanted to be with me in a way I would never want to be with him.  Infatuation, I guess. A secret admirer, only he wasn’t as secret as he thought. 

Which 'Hunger Games' character do you most identify with?

poll by twiigs.com

The Yearbook: Diane

The year was 1982. We danced to Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” album and watched “E.T.” on the silver screen. John Belushi died and Prince William was born. We exercised  to Jane Fonda video tapes and never missed watching “Dynasty” on TV. Gas cost 91 cents a gallon and a stamp two dimes. We were spooked by the Tylenol scare and held our breath as the recession began.

It was a year of promise and pain, of sweetness and sorrow.

But it was OUR year. 

We were the Class of 1982, and we were ready to take on the world.   

Diane (Yearbook post)

Gina,

To a funny, hilarious, and extremely rib-killing person. No matter where you are you bring a smile to everyone’s face. You also bring tears to their eyes!! I’ll never forget the time you told us about having to fart during your violin recital!  Diane

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3/18/12

So for the rest of my life Diane is going to remember me as the-girl-who-had-to-fart-during-her-violin-recital.  Yeah, well, it did happen. I tried to cover it up by playing louder, but it didn’t matter. It was one of the most embarrassing moments of my junior high life. Here I was playing the theme from Romeo and Julie, a piece I had practiced for months, and farted right in the middle of it. Thank gawd no one said a word. In fact, they acted like they never heard it, which I’m sure they did.

Diane played the tuba, and if you ever saw her 4-foot, 7-inch self carrying that brass beast you’d laugh. Picture Toto hauling the Tin Man. I remember how her parents tried to talk her into playing another instrument, something smaller, like a flute or clarinet, but she refused. Good thing, too, because the tuba took her far.

The Yearbook: Ray

 The year was 1982. We danced to Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” album and watched “E.T.” on the silver screen. John Belushi died and Prince William was born. We exercised  to Jane Fonda video tapes and never missed watching “Dynasty” on TV. Gas cost 91 cents a gallon and a stamp two dimes. We were spooked by the Tylenol scare and held our breath as the recession began.

It was a year of promise and pain, of sweetness and sorrow.

But it was OUR year. 

We were the Class of 1982, and we were ready to take on the world.   

Ray (Yearbook post)

Gina,

To a nice girl I got to know better in the last year. Good luck at all future attempts. 

Ray

3/16/12

Ray didn’t have many friends. He was a little backward. When you spoke to him face to face, he would never look you in the eyes. He always looked at the floor. That absolutely drove me insane. I hate when people don’t look at me when I talk to them. But I understood that Ray was a little different so I tried to cut him some slack. 

Ray was a gifted artist. I sat beside him in history class and he spent the entire period drawing. Mostly, he drew comic strips but he also sketched stuff he saw in class – like the wilting geranium in the clay pot  sitting on the windowsill.

 I tried to peek once to get a better view, but he covered his work with his arm. He didn’t like sharing his drawings. Probably didn’t want people to make fun of his work. That’s why he was mortified one day when The Palmer-nator  (aka Mrs. Palmer) caught him drawing in class.

Grandma Jesse's Easter postcards

I love old things, such as these postcards that belonged to my husband's grandmother, Jesse Truman Gross. Grandma Jesse was the first woman named mayor of York. She took over as mayor in October 1969 upon the death of John L. Snyder. Grandma Jesse was married to Chester Gross, my husband's grandfather and a U.S. Congressman. 

Addressed: Little Jesse Truman
       Lucas, Iowa
Contains a 1-cent stamp. I'm figuring Lucas, Iowa, must
have been pretty small if they knew by this address where Jesse lived.

The Yearbook: Bob

The year was 1982. We danced to Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” album and watched “E.T.” on the silver screen. John Belushi died and Prince William was born. We exercised  to Jane Fonda video tapes and never missed watching “Dynasty” on TV. Gas cost 91 cents a gallon and a stamp two dimes. We were spooked by the Tylenol scare and held our breath as the recession began.

It was a year of promise and pain, of sweetness and sorrow.

But it was OUR year. 

We were the Class of 1982, and we were ready to take on the world.   

Bob (Yearbook post)

Gina, to a nice girl with a great personality. Never forget our wild homeroom. Good luck always, Bob

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3/13/12

Bob came to school high every morning. He reeked of weed. I asked him once why he got high before school.  He said it made him feel better.

Bob was my friend. We never did anything together and he wasn’t in any of my classes, but he was the type of guy who would be the first to help you if you had a problem. He wasn’t book smart, but he was street smart. And he was good with cars. One look at the grease embedded in his nails and the black stains on his fingers told you he spent most of his time under the hood of a car.

The Yearbook: Tom

 The year was 1982. We danced to Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” album and watched “E.T.” on the silver screen. John Belushi died and Prince William was born. We exercised  to Jane Fonda video tapes and never missed watching “Dynasty” on TV. Gas cost 91 cents a gallon and a stamp two dimes. We were spooked by the Tylenol scare and held our breath as the recession began.

It was a year of promise and pain, of sweetness and sorrow.

But it was OUR year. 

We were the Class of 1982, and we were ready to take on the world.   

Tom (Yearbook post)

Gina,

To a real nice girl I got to know in chem and calc class. Never forget all the bad luck you had with test tubes during unknowns. Good luck with all you do in life and with that special someone.

AFA, Tom 

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3/9/12

 I hated unknowns in chemistry. The teacher would give us a substance and we’d have to run tests to determine what it was. It was a real pain in the ass. The worse thing about chem, though, was the goggles we had to wear. Talk about feeling like a complete dork. The goggles always left marks on my face, which seemed to last for hours afterward. And they messed up my makeup, which when you’re seventeen and vain is a really big deal.

The Yearbook: Karen

 The year was 1982. We danced to Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” album and watched “E.T.” on the silver screen. John Belushi died and Prince William was born. We exercised  to Jane Fonda video tapes and never missed watching “Dynasty” on TV. Gas cost 91 cents a gallon and a stamp two dimes. We were spooked by the Tylenol scare and held our breath as the recession began.

It was a year of promise and pain, of sweetness and sorrow.

But it was OUR year. 

We were the Class of 1982, and we were ready to take on the world.   

Karen (Yearbook post)

Gina,

You’re a real crazy girl but an awful lot of fun to be around. You can brighten anybody’s life with your smiling face. I wish you the best of luck in all your future attempts.

Love, Karen

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3/6/12

Karen got pregnant our senior year and had her daughter the summer after we graduated. She married the guy, who was older, but it didn’t last long. Maybe a year.

Karen was a good athlete. No matter what sport she tried she was good at it. Basketball. Softball. Tennis. You name it and she could play it – and play it well. I always thought she’d go to college  to become a gym teacher. She did go to college, eventually. She worked during the day and went to school at night. She and her daughter, Sarah, lived with her parents, who helped out a lot. 

 It took Karen many years, but she finally earned a business degree. I guess after that she kept on going because Mom sent me a newspaper clipping announcing that she had earned her MBA.

One Christmas break, Mom and I ran into Karen at the mall. She was obviously pregnant. She introduced me to her significant other, a beautiful woman with long, silky black hair and an hour-glass figure I would die for. I must have looked surprised because Karen leaned over and whispered. “Yeah, I know, it surprises everyone. Isn’t she gorgeous?”  And then she looked at Mia and smiled.

Twitter and Pinterest mash-up

Now you can pin text on Pinterest. Check out my writing tweets I pinned on a board.

The Yearbook: Doug

 The year was 1982. We danced to Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” album and watched “E.T.” on the silver screen. John Belushi died and Prince William was born. We exercised  to Jane Fonda video tapes and never missed watching “Dynasty” on TV. Gas cost 91 cents a gallon and a stamp two dimes. We were spooked by the Tylenol scare and held our breath as the recession began.

It was a year of promise and pain, of sweetness and sorrow.

But it was OUR year. 

We were the Class of 1982, and we were ready to take on the world.   

Doug (Yearbook post)

Gina,

To a very, very sweet girl I got to know a little better this year. Hope to see you over the summer. 

Love, Doug

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3/2/12

I didn’t see Doug over the summer.  In fact, I didn’t see him until his funeral. He wore his favorite Phillies T-shirt and looked peaceful inside the bronze casket with the almond velvet interior. Doug was killed in an accident near the mini mart in town. Something about ice and slick and telephone pole. Every time I drive by the spot and see the wooden cross with his name on it my heart aches. Doug was the first person in our class to die. I was used to old people dying, not a 19-year-old who had his whole life ahead of him. RIP Doug. We’re all better for having known you.     

Other posts in this blog series

Julie

J.R.

Lauren

Brad

NOTE:  Each Tuesday and Friday meet another member of the Class of 1982.