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This message forum is an ongoing discussion about anything and just about everything ... within reason.  One thing our class was good at was having opinions.  Almost 70 years of life experience certainly qualifies us as experts on most everything!   Ask a question ... give an opinion ... share some insights ... it's our web site, it's our forum.  That said, it's probably not a good idea to get into arguments about politics, religion, and the like.  While we're experts on everything, we also have a wide range of values and beliefs. This site belongs to all of us ... the whole range ... and we are not here to isolate, alienate, or subjugate anybody.  Of course insults, humiliation, sophomoric barraggadocio, and demented humor is expected behavior among some of us less mature people.
 

Jim Cejka

This week:

AKA - "Hug an EMT/Paramedic Week"

No appointment necessary (Mornings are best, afternoon nap time is usually between 2 - 3.)

Garry Sellers

Sorry ... I just can't help myself ...

An 85-year-old man goes for a physical... All of his tests come back
with normal results. The doctor says, 'George, everything looks great.
How are you doing mentally and emotionally? Are you at peace with God?'

George replies, 'God and I are tight… He knows I have poor eyesight,
so he's fixed it so when I get up in the middle of the night to go to
the bathroom, poof, the light goes on. When I'm done, poof, the light goes
off.'

'Wow, that's incredible,'  the doctor says. A little later in the day,
the doctor calls George's wife.   'Ethel,' George is doing fine! But I had to
call you because I'm in awe of his relationship with God.  Is it true
that he gets up during the night and poof, the light goes on in the
bathroom, and when he's done, poof, the light goes off?'

'Oh my God!'   Ethel exclaims.  'He's peeing in the fridge again!'

Jim Cejka

There’s a middle school across the street, and I think tonight is their graduation. I’m seeing them all fancied up in caps and gowns and all.

Do I remember right – that we “commenced” from Edison, and nothing fancy like now? If the kids now “graduate” from 8^th grade, does that take some of the inspiration, meaning, accomplishment, whatever, from graduation from high school? Commencement – you’re going on to a higher level of education. Graduation – you’re done, you're moving on to something else, like college or life. Moving on from middle school to high school is a big deal and should be applauded, like the end of Act I in a 2-act play which, at the end, gets a standing ovation.

Melody Jones (Parker)

Gordon "Allen" Mitchell

Jim,

Didn't we go to Edison 7 - 9?  That was "middle school" way back "when!"   lol

Allen

William Nelson

We lived across the street from Edison, but when we moved there in 1953, it was still Custer High School. The elementary school to the south of it was 36th Street School. I was in 4th grade when we moved there, but since I was a January grad, I was in the 2nd semester. After 6th grade "graduation" we moved on to CHS. I was 11 at the time and elected to the Student Council.  I enjoyed it, but felt like a 5th wheel most of the time. To their credit, folks like Don Carstensen, who was the president, went out of their way to make the underclassmen feel comfortable, even though the seniors pretty much controlled things. The following fall, the new CHS opened and Edison was called a Junior High with only 7th and 8th grades.  They started the expansion of the building while I was in the 8th grade and that presented some challenges. I remember my English teacher flinching every time a wrecking ball hit the north wall of the old building. My brother then went to the new CHS and I followed in 1957 when I "graduated" to the 9th grade. We didn't have any ceremonies as such, but the school paper carried brief articles about our teachers and each of the students. I graduated, with a full ceremony, in January, 1971, but received a special dispensation from Gary Sellers to allow me to join this forum. Several years later, 36th Street School was demolished. My dad, who was a retired Industrial Arts teacher, talked the crew into allowing him to salvage some of the maple flooring that was only a couple of years old. We still have some small items made from that flooring around the house.

Jim Cejka

Al,

When we were there Edison was a "Jr. High School," and you're right, grades 7-9, and a separate school.  Now a days, at least in CA, and FL, and I'm sure many more, it's "middle school," usually 6-8, and may share the building with the elementary school.

And then there's this ElHi I keep seeing in crosswords that sounds so goofy.

Jim Cejka

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place: and in the sky
The larks still bravely singing fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below. 

We are the dead: Short days ago,
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved: and now we lie
In Flanders fields! 

Take up our quarrel with the foe
To you, from failing hands, we throw
The torch: be yours to hold it high
If ye break faith with us who die,
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields

Terri Levenhagen (Hoornstra)

Thanks for all your interesting and inspirational posts (well, I don't know if Garry's fits in either of these categories, but. . . .) I went to Edison for 7 through 9 grades, but I have to ask: didn't some of us stay at Edison for 9th grade because the "new" Custer High School didn't have room for all the 9th graders yet? I seem to remember that some of our Edison classmates did get to attend Custer for 9th grade. I also remember Edison was so crowded, that we had two huge 9th grade homerooms in the Cafeteria (Cafeteria A and Cafeteria B). I think that in later years all students attended 9th grade at the high school.  My Edison days are burned into my memory: orchestra with Mr. Thom, who was also the Vice Principal; Mrs. Jordak 7th grade homeroom; Miss Kapp for 8th grade English and her shrunken head; and Miss Thornberry the principal, who had been my mom's high school English teacher.

Gordon "Allen" Mitchell

Thanks Jim for the great memorial poem tribute. The following sign hangs on the house every Memorial Day weekend.

William Nelson

I wasn't aware that some of the 9th graders were held back at Edison. Guess I was one of the lucky ones who got to walk the extra mile to the new Custer. My first semester there was the only semester I stayed in a conventional home room. Mr. Crooks was my official home room teacher, but from then on, my homeroom was actually 108, the audio control room. I'd check in with Miss Sherwood on the way, or be counted absent. I remember the year of expansion at Edison as being a real mess, with the entire north (Custer St) side of the school torn up. I think my most memorable teacher at Edison was Mr. LaGosh, who taught Science. The day before we "graduated" he gave the class a serious speech about being responsible and also avoiding stupid situations. The part that I remember the most was when he said, "Before you graduate from high school, at least one or two of your classmates will have died. Some will die from disease, but many teens die from stupid stuff that, if they'd think about for a few seconds, they'd realize how stupid it is. Don't be one of the stupid ones. They have families that love them, and suffer greatly when their loved one dies." I always wondered if he had experienced that situation himself.

Our middle son is now a teacher in Alief, a suburb of Houston, TX. The school he teaches at is ONLY 9th grade. Their system is quite a bit different than our system was. There are four high schools in the district, but they're all close together. They seem to bus in the majority of students, and all are from 10th through 12th grades. Each has their own teams and they compete at a common stadium. I guess, as long as they're busing, it's probably cheaper to maintain the schools in a centralized area. The elementary schools are a little more scattered and I suspect they don't bus as much.

One last thought. Does anyone remember the original purpose of room One in the new Custer? It was one of the largest rooms in the school, but after the first year, was no longer used for the original purpose. Some who were on the Stage Crew might remember being in that room on occasion.

Jim Cejka

Al - I like your poster.

Yesterday, I saw and heard, on TV and other places, people and signs saying "Happy Memorial Day." To me, as a vet, that seems to be kind of an oxymoron. 

Terri - I think we should know by now that our expectations of Garry needn't be set too high.

All these years I've thought that our "new" Custer didn't have any 9th grade. I thought that when Custer opened, they took the 'high school' grades over there and put the 'jr hs' kids in the new Edison. Seems I remeber someone saying that we were the first class to enter the new Custer in 10th grade and go through to graduation.

The interesting things you learn after 70.

Jeanne Zinser (Gottschalk)

Jim--

I started at CHS as a Freshman in the Fall of 1958. I didn't attend grade school in Milwaukee, as we lived in Brookfield. I attended a K-8 school, never experiencing "junior high" or "middle school."  I'm rather glad that I had the alternate experience. As an educator, I'm quite opposed to the whole "middle school" concept. I think it forces kids to try to become something they're not ready to become. Let them stick around younger kids a while longer. Give them the experience of being mentors and (hopefully) positive role models for them instead of trying to act an age they are not physically, mentally, or emotionally prepared for.

John Ruhland

Jim,

I also am a Vietnam Vet (25th Infantry). Came back in '67. In '67 there was no "Welcome Wagon" for vets or any obvious appreciation for our service. It got to the point I didn't want anyone to know that I had been there. For decades Memorial Day & Veteran's Day were, in my mind, just another day that resulted in no mail service and maybe a day off work. I didn't even take advantage of VA medical services until I retired in 2011.

It's gratifying that vets are finally being recognized for their service. But------is every vet a "Hero"? I personally think the label "Hero" is being used too often/loosely. Because Uncle Sam sent us over there (I was drafted), told us what to do and for how long, does that make us "Heros"?  Don't get me wrong, there are definitely "Heros" to be found and recognized in any military conflict. But not every vet is a hero. We were just a bunch of kids(?) doing what we were told, not knowing why or to what end. And what DID we  accomplish over there? And at what price? All those lives lost and for WHAT.

Three years ago I finally bought my first "symbol" of my service. I bought a hat that says "Vietnam Veteran" on it. I don't wear it often but when I do someone will  "thank me for my service".  I politely say "thank you" back to them. But it makes me feel awkward and slightly embarassed, being recognized for what I was ORDERED to do by Uncle Sam.

Thanking me for my service is confusing to me to say the least. Were we really serving "our" country, OR were we serving another country (NAM) at our expense? And how can we possibly be proud of the end result?

Sometimes I think the label "Hero" is kind of like the "Participation Award" given to young kids today.

Sorry to sound like a "disgruntled vet".

William Nelson

Jeanne, I agree with your assessment that the kids benefit from having underclassmen around. Our local school is K-12 and we like the concept. Initially, we worried about our kids riding the bus with kids in senior high, but there were only two incidents where that was a problem. In one incident, the bus driver intervened and the junior who thought it would be fun to pick on the younger kids wound up having to find other means of transportation to and from school. His parents weren’t too happy about that. In the other incident, a neighbor girl stood up for our son (about 8 at the time) and put the wannabe bully in his place. It helps that it’s a small school where all, except the newest, teachers know most of the kids. The principal was also a great influence and demanded that all of the kids respect each other and the staff.

John, I share your feelings about heroism. That term is bandied about too freely. I, too, went to Nam. I went in ’67 and returned in ’68, so I was right behind you. I was in the Signal Corps and worked on microwave gear in the DaNang area. I would say that only a couple of our guys were ever even in a position to be heroes. We were all in a position to be killed many times, but most of us made it home safely, with mostly bad memories and some physical problems caused by the environment we were in. My hearing loss began there when I was temporarily assigned as a range safety NCO at a Vietnamese Basic Training camp. Cotton balls don’t provide much hearing protection when you’re between two M-60’s eight hours a day. My friends welcomed me home, but we didn’t advertise it much. My dad made a sign, “Welcome home, Sgt. Bill!” but I got home before he got it strung across the front porch.  He put it up the next day, we took a picture, and then I asked him to take it down again. One of the chief reasons I chose to go to MSOE when I went back to college, was the high percentage of vets in the student body. I had attended UW-M a few years earlier, but knew I wouldn’t be welcome there among many of the students. The town that is our Parish seat, has a small military park that was paid for, in part, by selling bricks engraved with the names of local military with their branch and dates of service. My wife and kids, bought a brick with my name on it. They got one of the dates wrong, but that’s about the only evidence of my service outside of our home. I wasn’t happy to be drafted and probably wasn’t a very good soldier, but they put me in a job I was good at, and I did my best to do that job and train many others to do the same. I’m proud that I served, but never enjoy being listed as a hero. I never did anything that would qualify me for that title. Now I see little kids sometimes called heroes for catching the biggest fish, killing the biggest buck, hitting a home run, or making a touchdown. Those diminish the term.

Jeanne Zinser (Gottschalk)

Bill, 

Was Rm. 1 the "bicycle room?"

Jim Cejka

John, Bill

Reading you stuff is like looking in a mirror, except I wasn’t drafted, I enlisted.

After a crappy year at UWM, I was advised to “reconsider my educational objectives.” I always thought the Navy would be cool, so I enlisted. I guess I was naïve, I never heard of Vietnam. I wanted some future job in the medical field, so I enlisted in the Navy as a Hospital Corpsman. Of course, my recruiter never told me that the Marines don’t have any corpsmen, so they borrow them from the Marines. I got borrowed.

I was in country 66-67, 7^th Engineers, 1^st MarDiv, outside DaNang. We built most everything in I Corps, including Khe Sanh. Does that make me a hero? No, we built it, but I wasn’t there. I was back at base being the battalion aid station. I’m not a hero, just a veteran. For the longest time, I couldn’t even talk with other Vietnam vets. They were the heros, I wasn’t.

I came back in ’67 and went right into college – in California. Talk about a lonely petunia in an onion patch. I couldn’t grow my hair back fast enough. I couldn’t talk to anybody in my classes. I still feel a lot like that petunia.

I think that so many of us were influenced by our fathers and their brothers. They were WWII. They were noble. They had been to a real war. They were recognized for service. We thought that was the way it was supposed to be, and were shocked and stupefied when it wasn’t. And the “wasn’t” is our legacy. Veterans today are again received, recognized, and accepted because of us. I think we can be proud of that, at least in an off-handed way.

I worked with veterans as a volunteer veterans service officer for San Diego County. The hardest people to convince to sign up for veterans’ benefits were Vietnam veterans. Less than 20% of eligible vets get their benefits. That’s sad. It’s not the VAs fault, despite all the political harping. We still have that chip on our shoulders - we had to make do without you then, so screw you now. The biggest argument I got from Vietnam vets however, was that they didn’t want to use the VA because all those kids coming home now from multiple deployments need them more than us – we’re old, we’re history. Again, sacrificing themselves for the vets that followed them.

Our vet center here just had a big “Welcome Home” ceremony specifically for Vietnam vets. I couldn’t go. Like you, I am too uncomfortable with the “thanks for your service.” I don’t feel any sincerity there.

I’d bet you get a good feeling when you meet another ‘Nam vet. “When were you there?” “What outfit?” Another you, and you feel comfortable inside.

My “inner peace” is when I meet a Marine, and he/she recognizes that I was a corpsman, and calls me “Doc.” Then I know I was a veteran. I don’t worry about not being a hero.

John Ruhland

Bill & Jim,

Thanks for the feedback!      MUCH appreciated!

William Nelson

Jeanne, you would have won the prize, if there was one! Yes, it was the bicycle room. I suspect the planners thought a lot of kids would show up on bikes. Kenny Rabas and I used to ride our bikes around town, but we never rode them to school. We walked the mile and never considered the shame of riding a bike when several classmates were driving cars. I remember that the student parking lot had more nice cars than the teacher's lot.

Thanks for your post, Jiim. Another guy and I had a one day mission to Khe Sahn to get a portable radio transceiver up and running, because our MW link had been disabled temporarily and the guys on that site were in desperate need of help. Our site near the DaNang AFB was clean and neat. When were were in the vans, it was air-conditioned and there was a terrific Collins SW radio to bring us news and entertainment from around the world. While in there, you could almost forget what was outside the door. The same kind of van was used in Khe Sahn, but the door had so many shrapnel penetrations that it was like a screen door. All the meter faces were broken. One of the guys had been shot while on the tower. They parked their vehicles in craters formed by rocket hits on the theory that lightning doesn't strike twice in the same place. We were told of the corpsmen who risked their lives daily, low crawling across disputed territory, using their stethoscopes to listen for tunneling. Those were some real heroes. We decided to stay overnight to help get their rig back on the air, but the Lt. in charge wouldn't hear of it. He told us to get back to the landing strip and grab the next plane out. We are eternally grateful to that officer, who saved our lives. Most of the guys we'd spent the day with, were killed before we made it back to DaNang whent they took a direct hit. We assembled a team and had another van ferried up there, but it was over a week later before anymore planes landed there. They buried that van and I left the country before I heard if it ever got on the air.

I'm in touch with only two of my Army buddies. One doesn't have internet access, so we send letters back and forth on birthdays and at Christmas. The other one communicates via email once in a while. They're both great guys and we hope to visit them again one of these days.

Thanks for the sometimes bitter memories John and Jim.

Jeanne Zinser (Gottschalk)

THE BICYCLE ROOM!

If my memory isn't too foggy, I think that is where we collected our class rings and also our caps and gowns. And perhaps it was also the place to which some would go during "civil defense drills." I remember it as being cavernous and dark.

Jim Cejka

Garry - I heard that it wasn' tjust the teachers talking like that.

Best wishes and a prayer for Ken.

Kenneth Pallaske

My path to graduation was quite an adventure. My family moved from the East side.to the north side. As a result, we went to Wilbur Wright JHS for 7th grade. The next year, we (brother Jim included) ended up at Edison for 8th grade. The next year we started 9th grade at CHS. After three weeks, the school district boundaries were reorganized and we ended up transferring to Granville HS, now Brown Deer HS. 

As luck would have it, the school boundaries were changed again before the start of our junior year. Kicking and screeming, we went to CHS for the remainder of high school. By the way, I am very proud to have finished HS there. Lots of great memories.

As for service, I volunteered for the Marine Corps right out of HS. (OCT 1962 - Mar 1966) Most of my tour of duty was spent at 29 Palms, CA. Actually, we were not involved militarily in Nam until I completed much of my tour of duty. I did get a 4 month extension as a result of the "war" our government lost for us. More importantly, the result of too many lives lost because of poor decision making.

I too felt snubbed by our general public, even though I did not go to Viet Man. My heart goes out to all of you who stepped foot on that awful ground over there and were treated the way you were in our own country. I am grateful our service members are now treated with respect.

Thank you for your service.

Jim Cejka

Are they dead that yet speak louder than we can speak, and a more universal language?  

Are they dead that yet act?  

Are they dead that yet move upon society and inspire the people with nobler motives and more heroic patriotism?  

~Henry Ward Beecher

Gordon "Allen" Mitchell

Jeanne Zinser (Gottschalk)

A lovely memorial, Allen! Sure wish it wasn't necessary. 😢