Jonathan Marks

Congratulations to all on the opening of the black box...

And condolences to Gail on her loss.   I remember her as a lovely lady.

Gail Weintraub (Stern)

The February 16th Dedication of the Rick Steiner Black Box Theatre at WHHS was attended by approximately 50 classmates and guests. It was a fitting tribute to our late classmate, and it was an evening that Rick would have loved: reconnections, continued conversations, delicious food and no alcohol (Rick was a teetotaler!) and a stellar upper class performance of the musical 'Pippin'. 

This poem written by Jon Singer, in tribute to Rick's being honored, was read during the Dedication ceremony.

Helen Sayrs (Hurley)

We were so sorry to miss it.  We had responded yes to the invitation, but we've both been sick for about 6 weeks off and on starting with my getting the flu, then more upper respiratory issues, one after another.  We're exhausted!  😴 We did let Debbie know.  I know you all had a wonderful time even though the reason for it was a sad one.  🤗Helen<>>

Judy Holtzer (Knopf)

Hi all.  Sorry to change the subject, but anyone with personal experience with TNBC and willing to share is kindly requested to contact me. Thanks in advance.

Philip Spiess

Returning to the subject of Whitey Davis's "sadism," why, when we were all freezing from being in the pool for some forty minutes (the pool, or poolroom, was almost never heated, because, when it was, the chlorine rose to the surface and burned our eyes), did he hardly ever turn on any hot water from the master control for the showers?  Those showers were cold!  (And don't tell me it was to keep down teenage boys' libidos.)  Oh, and why did the heated towels you got with a "towel check" always smell like mushrooms?

Evan Burkholder

Phil - your note refers to Whitey Davis' "sadism". That's not a word - with or without quotation markes - I would have used to describe my first swimming coach  I think of Whitey as a teacher and coach who built character and respect in his swimmers. Some of my fondest memories from HS involve Whitey Davis and the swimming team. 

It's funny what comes to mind when one thinks back 50 years or more. That 20 yard pool seems way out of date now and, yes, we swam lap after lap without goggles. The chlorine did burn. I still remember Steve Collett in the shower, singing "Snow White Dove" by Ferlin Husky. I'm not sure when you showered but there was lots of hot water for all of us and lots of other memories of a great coach and great team mates.

You're right, I'm sure it was cold in the pool and locker room when you attended swimming class. It's good to see that your sense of "humor" did not suffer from hyperthermia. Cheers, Evan 

Ann Shepard (Rueve)

The pool these days, no chlorine, it's  salt water!

Stephen Collett

Thank you Ann for that great photo of the "new" pool, what a beauty. And salt water, bouyant! Would have loved to have swum in that. On big holidays like Thanksgiving and Xmas we on the swim team would have to go in for hours in that tight little beaker of fumes. 

I agree totally with Even. Whitey was a great coach and leader for me, and even in swimming class I never felt he was harsh. I get that when Phil is cold that is punishment. I dont take cold water well either. There go whole summers here in Norway when I dont get into the water. The story that Tom Lounds shared with us, of black children only getting to swim on Friday afternoons before they drained the pool is really scary. Tom is my brother´s age about? who will be 80 next week! If so, that is eight years ahead of us, but by our time that was all a thing of the past and we were all in the pool. I remember, and we have discussed this in our classroom forums at reunions, that the black guys seemed uncomfortable down there, shivering naked looking at a deep cold pool, and not being accustomed swimmers. And Whitey with his whistle. He stripped right off in front of us and dived in to illustrate. I remember him standing there one morning, white hair all over his body except his pate, and telling us he had become a new father that night; he was "going to have to start sleeping on the porch".

At one reunion I told the story of a great moment that involved Whitey and Ben Burton - bless his soul. This story later got misunderstood where Whitey came out a "nazi", which was totally the opposite of my story. Have you got time?

One day after we had gone up to the showers and into the lockerroom Whitey came storming down the line saying, in no uncertain terms, that everyone was required to go up to the gym as soon as we had clothes on, no matter we had other classes to go to. We went up and sat in those old bleachers (they were still there last time I looked!). Whitey had heard racist expletives used on the way up to or in the showers. We were to hear that that was NOT allowed. Whitey stood in front of us on the gym floor, with his arm raised to signify the primacy of his message. That hand was missing a first finger, and he had a bit of a tremble, and the hand was held out trembling before us, deep anger on his face. "Boys, there are whites and there are whitetrash. There are negroes and there are niggers. There are jews and there are kikes. And it is you yourself who chooses where you belong there. Nobody else."

Well, this was a  bit extraordinary, a teacher using these terms. I hadn´t heard any expletives in the shower and didn´t know to what he was specifically refering. But Ben raised his hand. Whitey called on him and Ben asked, "Whitey, can I be whitetrash?"  That was so cool, so right on, and Whitey started laughing and we all started laughing and Whitey dismissed us, a little wiser. You should have been there.

Philip Spiess

Yeah, I remember the guys on the swim team got to wear swim suits and, who knows?  maybe got hot water, too, after their swims.  We in the general classes got it once in a blue moon -- emphasis on the blue.  But I will say this:  in every gym class and swim class I ever had at WHHS, Whitey Davis was always the teacher (what did all those other guys do?  Willard Bass, I know, supposedly administered things . . .).  I did learn things from Whitey on the gymnastic equipment (where Dale Gieringer and I clowned around when we figured out what we were doing).  But see my two contemporary cartoons of Whitey on my Profile site.  

Ann Shepard (Rueve)

Steve, thanks for the story of Whitey confronting racism.  Ben's response was so BEN! 

Dale Gieringer

Stephen, thanks for the story about Whitey Davis.  I wasn't there when it happened, but it sounds just like him (and Ben).   Whitey was friends with my uncle;  they were both sportsmen in Miamitown. My uncle had a boating store there, and liked to fish and water ski.   I don't know whether Whitey water skied - my mind boggles  trying to picture him doing so  -  but he sure taught me to swim.   Evan & Stephen, I'd have to agree he was a great swim coach, as testified by the WHHS swimming team's stellar record, to which you guys contributed.  Not that I was a good swimmer  - Whitey routinely gave me a C,  which was exactly what I deserved based on performance.   Not like Mr. Lunsford's gym class, where I could automatically earn a B or B+ for just  being on time and keeping my locker clean.  The last semester senior year I got a D because I skipped so many classes with Phil and others.  Actually, the D may have been generous, but if they'd failed me, I would have had to make it up over the summer,  because under Ohio law in order to graduate you had to pass phys ed.

Jeff Daum

Just returned from a fun time in Scottsdale Arizona at a couple of car shows.  If you are an enthusiast like me and like both old and new cars, check out my latest gallery at https://www.daumphotography.com/Events/Scottsdale-Car-Shows/

Richard Montague

Jeff, 

I enjoyed looking at your pictures. Thanks for posting the link.

Jeff Daum

Thanks Richard.  There were some really great cars at those shows.  Glad you enjoy the pictures.

Philip Spiess

Although I know we are avoiding politics on this site (and I agree with you on this, Gene Stern), I must say that I am so proud of the students -- nationwide -- who protested about gun control issues today.  From what I have seen in the news, they are extremely literate and informed -- much like WHHS students -- which heartens me about this rising generation.

However, it made me recall our own class's protest, ca. 1962-1963 (I forget which), about plastic forks being issued in the lunch room at WHHS.  (How puerile that protest seems today in comparison to protests about lives being lost!)  If you remember, many metal forks had been propelled upwards into the acoustical tile ceiling of our WHHS lunchroom, where they stuck, resulting in a significant lack of lunchroom forks with which to eat.  Thus, plastic forks were henceforth issued (rather than anybody in the administration just pulling the metal forks out of the ceiling) -- but these plastic tools both melted in certain hot dishes or broke off in some rather too hard cooked dishes, and so we students rebelled.

We determined that on a given day none of us would buy or accept a lunch prepared by the school in the WHHS lunchroom -- and we did!  resulting in an incredible waste of cooked food.  We implied that this would continue until we had metal implements once more.  Unbelieveably, that night the Cincinnati Superintendent of Schools Pierce, whose daughter, Kristin Pierce, was in our class, went on the 11 o'clock news to plead with the Walnut Hills students to go back to the lunchroom, and their demands would be met.

So we did -- but, as I say, that was nothing compared to the protests of today's activist students.

Paul Simons

At our best we were and remained on the right side of history as they say these days. Plastic is now ruining habitat for countless species. We fought it. Luckily Phil remembers it. We didn’t have to contend with madmen armed with machine guns out to murder us, which kids today have to contend with, or with a political majority whose solution to mass murders every few weeks and over a quarter billion guns in circulation is more guns. We had our challenges but nothing like this absolute madness.

Dale Gieringer

The fork protest must have been sophomore year, because I was in Mrs Renfro's Latin class at the time.  She made a snarky comment to me because I wore a metal fork conspicuously  in my shirt pocket as a gesture of support for the protest.  Later, she apologized after having eaten in the student lunchroom and being served a grilled cheese sandwich that was cooked on only one side (as was customary in my experience).  "You're right to protest," she said, "The food there was inexcusable."

Henry Cohen

Speaking of the kitchen, I still remember the pork chops fondly probably because of the high fat content, but maybe they did that so you could cut them with a plastic fork! 

Jon Singer

Memory may insert untruth, but i recall standing at the metal bins, extracting the last fork and underhanding it successfully into the ceiling on the day before the plastic transition. There was a generous applause.

I don't remember the food quality, but if i didn't loose my lunch money pitching coins i could get another thrill if i asked "What is this?" to the skinny serving lady with a high pitched voice(?Irene).

Henry Cohen

Narcissus I think was her name.

Paul Simons

Jeff Daum

Wow Paul, your experiences and mine are quite different.  I have never in all my dinning in the top/finest rated (and typically, most expensive) restaurants both in the United States as well as 64 countries, including France, Italy and the United Arab Emirates, have seen or experienced forks thrown into the ceilings- the only time I experienced that was at WHHS.

Paul Simons

Thanks Jeff - it’s just parody.  Or maybe hyperbole, my attempt at it. The late-night comedians like Steven Colbert, Bill Maher, John Oliver, and their writers are the masters. Of course they are - and they get paid a lot of money to do it. At this point some things are so outrageous and mind-boggling that if one doesn't find some way to laught about it, one can get pretty demoralized, and the future can look pretty grim. Also, nice photos of cars and bikes. I did a bit of scrambles, 250 cc class, way back when. The photo of the beat-up bike, guitar, and me is a take-off on Fender Guitar ads from that rra.

Jeff Daum

Paul, who am I to stick a fork in your parody .  Appreciate the feedback on my photos and good one of you on your bike replete with electric guitar.

Jerry Ochs

As graduates of a prestigious high school we should know the difference between parody and satire.

By the way, the misuse of "notorious" by the news media et al. drives me crazy. Am I a curmudgeon?