Hi, this is Lorraine’s daughter Kitty. First of all, she’s ok!
She’s been in a rehab facility – her knee appliance broke so she’s been rather immobile and needs to get in better condition before they’ll fix her knee.
But worst of all, she is without a computer! Oh no. Poor dear, and she does miss it!
I thought that if anyone stops by to see if she’s been around here lately, I’d give you this little update.
Oh yeah. June 1948 was a very good year. And I am going to tell you why. Just so happens I was graduated from this school at that particular point in time. I want to paste an image of the *front* of the school if I can find it somewhere…..it was quite an impressive building of learning……….yup..
Never thought I would “go back to the future” again, though. A few weeks ago I received an e-mail from a man who said he was David so-and-so (that grating sound you hear are the rusty gears in my head, futilely trying to attach this man’s name with the boy I knew way back then) and he now heads a group of ’48 graduates who have volunteered to search for former students from our class. Whew, that has got to be a really grinding job, I mean……really. The male contingent may not be so difficult to track down, but for obvious reasons, the female group would have been pretty tough to find.
Anyway, for a few weeks after the initial surprise at hearing from several of the “girls” with whom I’m still having a problem associating the mostly grey-hair and shockingly *mature* faces (actually, much like my grey hair and old hag face, except that these *girls* turned out with less wrinkles and extra chins than I did. Not fair. Not fair at ALL. *snif*
They were, of course, parts of the [drumroll, please] Fickle Pickle gaggle of extraordinarily gorgeous girls, mindlessly unaware they were not as goddess-like as they personally thought they were, but then, ignorance is bliss. WE knew how spectacularly wonderful we were and that’s what counted. “Ain’a?” [Umm, that so-called word (?) is short for "ain't it?' which still isn't proper English but just an innocent Milwaukee phrase we all took for granted) The "Pickles" were just a silly teenage "thing", I suppose. But fun. I was surprised that the women who contacted me all had good things to say about the *Fickle Pickles*, although looking back now, I don't have a clue what (or who!) we thought we were, LOL. Or, for that matter, why we thought our little exclusive "club" was such a big deal. Again,,,, Ignorance is bliss [?]