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About St. Johns review. (Saint Johns, Or.) 1904-current | View Entire Issue (Sept. 4, 2015)
Page 4 * The St. Johns Review * #18 Sept. 4, 2015 Email: reviewnewspaper@gmail.com * Mail: PO Box 83068, Port. OR 97283 * Web: www.stjohnsreview.com * Phone: 503-283-5086 COMMUNIT RHS 50th Class Reunion Continued from Page 1 By Jim Speirs a flood of memories to reappear. Thoughts, events and personali- ties which had been lost or sup- pressed for decades came to the surface; hidden fantasies floated from the recesses of long ago dreams swirling like mists from a fairy tale. For me and perhaps for me alone, given the way I think, it was almost like I could levitate and become an invisible specta- tor, hovering above the crowd and nodding in silent agreement as my classmates became one af- ter a fifty year hiatus. I was jealous of some of my friends. Some had the ability to remain emotionally unattached; for them it was simply a gath- ering of a bunch of aging class- mates, brought together for one last hurrah. Some of us had zero to discuss, as we had never been close in school, therefore a meet- ing only had meaning because of the setting and if we’d passed on the street, there would be no recognition. Still, there were so many of us, it felt like I was a pachinko ball bouncing from cushion to cushion, seldom hav- ing time to say more than a few words, then moving on. Not surprisingly, some encoun- ters took on special meaning, or had a unique quality to it. A few of us shared some things exclusive to us. We could (and did) smile a secret grin, a silent acknowledgment that signaled we both were thinking the same thought without speaking a word. It was fun; for the posturing that surrounded the dance of emotion and reflection was not concealed, yet the collective memory im- possible to hide. And, at this point and at this time, what was the need? What was to hide? Our fa- cial expressions said it all - yes, I remember, and so do you! “Hey”, I said to one girl (no names here, as I’ve always been pretty good at keeping secrets,) “do you remem- ber that drive-in we went to…”? “Yes”, the blushing woman said, I can’t believe we actually did that! I couldn’t resist the opening, and said, “Well, I’ve got an old 66’ Plymouth and there’s still one re- maining drive-in in Newberg, are you up for a replay”? A laugh and a hug let us both know two things: one, I was kidding and next, it was fun to carry those secrets of youth and time at RHS in our memory bank. As the night progressed, we actu- ally gathered in groups that were distinguished by grade schools we’d attended. My school, Chief Joseph had the fewest people of any grade school. Because of the boundaries of the day, half that school went to Jefferson and the others to Roosevelt. Pictures were taken and classmates dug further into their memory chest to dig up remnants of a time and place fragmented by decades of forgot- ten events and long gone friends. Time pushed on and as grade school buddies tried in vain to re- construct a mosaic of lost pieces of their youth, the clocked ticked away. The smoky sky had turned black with night and after a meal and a quiz designed to jog the memories of those in attendance, the num- bers began to thin out. At first, it was not too noticeable, but inevi- tably the question of “where’s this school, or at least we thought we guy or girl” came to pass. They did. Were we different? Were we had left and for me it wasn’t just the last of a dying America? We their leaving that made me return can easily identify with the mov- to my thought process. It wasn’t ie American Graffiti but we all enough to say “she left”, but it know our connection with what was (for me) the knowledge that we now witness usually causes we weren’t simply leaving the re- us to shake our heads in disbe- union; we were leaving many of lief. Does every generation feel us for the last time. People shook the same way? For me, I would hands, promises of social media have liked to take each person connections were made, some I saw at the reunion and travel hugs and tears were part of the with them back to RHS, where departure. I thought of Cinderella we’d stay forever young and our and as the clocked ticked toward biggest worry was getting money midnight, the magic slipper of for the drive-in. I think I’m too time and youth began to slide from lost to cerebral fantasy to come our clothing. Beneath it all was close to catching what all the the nagging fear and certainty of RHS kids felt. I don’t know… finality; a coming to grips with the really, I don’t know. I titled this piece, “Not Too same age old question that haunts all of us…”where did time go? It Long Ago”; this was a very lit- was supposed to happen to others, tle known song from a group called the Uniques, in the spring but not to us!” As many readers know, I’ve al- of 1965. It got very little air ways thought Roosevelt – the time, and for the last 50 years, school and the graduates are I’ve wondered why? I loved the unique. The size of our alumni song; the theme, rhythm, tempo group confirms it as does the pas- and design of the song always sion of our neighborhood. Still, seemed to capture who we were. I’m guessing many other schools As mentioned in my open, I’m have the same feeling, so maybe hopelessly romantic. But, if any I’m totally off base. None of that of you reading this want to know matters now and reality dictates why, go on your computers a total change in demographics, and find the song; a guy named educational standards and iden- Chuck Benjamin has a grainy tity with our school. Now is not video of the group. I hope it res- the time or place to delve into the onates with all of you. Thanks for the memories, quagmire of dysfunctional devo- - Jim - lution that’s become bane of the public educational system here ___________________________ and elsewhere. Now, I want exclu- Jim is a lifelong resident of North sively to capture a brief moment Portland. when RHS had meaning and the If you would like to respond to his class of 1965 felt we were unstop- article or have memories you’d like pable. to share too with readers, send them What I want to say is once, a to reviewnewspaper@gmail.com. long time ago, we actually felt the Coyotes rumored to b By Barbara Quinn There have been recent rumors of coy- ote sightings in the St. Johns neighbor- hood near Fessenden Street. It is good to keep in mind urban coyotes pose little threat to humans though residents should be aware of their presence and especially careful about leaving food out that might attract them. It is never a good idea to feed wild animals inten- tionally or inadvertently since abnormal or aggressive behavior is most often associated with unnatural food sources. It is best to learn to live peaceably with wildlife including coyotes. According to a study of urban coyotes in Chicago, the animals prefer to be ac- tive at night when humans are near. The study disclosed that the largest part of their diet consists of rodents and to a lesser degree rabbits. Both species’ num- bers become unnaturally high when there are no predators. In fact, Ro- dents are far more dan- gerous to us since they can carry transmittable diseases. The population of urban coyotes in an urban setting most likely correlates with the popu- lation of rodents present. The study also disclosed that a sizable 25% of the animal’s diet consists of Photos by Jim It’s a Fact.... 1) The St. Johns Review has been in publication for 112 Years. 2) It survives on advertising dollars alone! To be around this long.... doesn’t it make sense that ADVERTISING in The Review WORKS!?! Place YOUR ad in Portland’s Oldest Community Newspaper Call 503-283-5086 or email: reviewnewspaper@gmail.co or go to the website: www.stjohnsreview.com
