I've since received e-coms from half a dozen classmates who apparently had never commented on anything regarding our class or blog before. They have been reading the blog all this time, but passively.
Most of them told me things that had happened to them at C.H.S. but they didn't write the anecdotes in a readable form. They just said, "So and so did this, and I did that, and I have never forgotten it," and so on. I encouraged them all to write up their memorable incidents in a viewable form and post it to fuller012@comcast.net.
One thing several mentioned: a number have photographs that would go along with their story and make it perhaps more interesting, something like the two photos I forwarded to you with the "Introduction to Col. Bates" which illustrated how young the "scamp" was and how intimidating and big the Col. was. It's my understanding that you're not set up to post photos with the articles set to the blog. I'm not efectively P.C. literate, despite my most ernest efforts, so I can't even comment on how a person could do it. But applicable photos really would make a story more interesting, and some of these folks might be receptive to writing their comments up if they thought that their photos would be posted with the story. Just a thought.
Anyway, clearly the blog is reaching a lot of folks and again, I greatly appreciate your doing it, as it keeps us all in contact, and I look forward to hearing from everybody.
Best to you,
Lee
Lee Reynolds
From Dru:
Lee: Sorry I got carried away with your prose and forget to post your priceless photos! Here the pictures are shown with your story with a
link back to the story. Thanks!
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| Col. Creed Bates |
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| Delmar (Lee) Reynolds |
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I expect that all of us have certain incidents from C.H.S which stick in our minds. Here is one which has come back to me a few times:
The following occurred in late September, 1957. I was at C.H.S. on a Saturday, doing something with the Bulldogs. I was wearing my dog collar. Col. Bates approached me with, "Ah, here's a Bulldog. Come over here. I've got something for you to do. I've got a package at T.H.Paynes. Take my car and go get it for me." He handed me the keys to his car, a shiny, all-black 2-door post 3-speed on the column '56 (55?) Chevrolet, a beautiful car. Col. Bates' car.
I was not yet 16, did not have a license, and had driven our family 1953 Plymouth Cranbrook 3-speed on the column exactly once in my life, about 6 minutes on a deserted road, never in traffic. I had only a vague idea of where T.H.Paynes was.
All the same, I took the keys, started the Col's immaculate car, drove downtown, found T.H.Paynes, got without incident into a parking space, and inside I went.
A rather attractive black-haired salesgirl - but OMG, she was at least 20 years old - approached me and said, "Mr. Creed Bates called and said that a young scamp wearing a dog collar was coming to pick up his package. Are you the scamp?"
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