Marlene

Marlene Alwood-Ristine
1941 - 2012

Once upon a time, fifty-four years ago actually, I was serving on my high school yearbook staff.  Ever since I was in high school, I looked forward to working on my yearbook.  When the opportunity came, I volunteered for the yearbook staff.  One of the main reasons I volunteered was even back in those prehistoric times I loved to take pictures have pictures taken.  I wanted to be involved in any pictures taken for our class yearbook.

Downingtown High School Yearbook Staff - 1959
That's me in the back on the left in the white shirt
Marlene is two down in the front

One of our assignments was to have a random set of photos taken for the yearbook showing different classes.  On the particular day I was given this long sought after assignment, I was pared with probably the most beautiful girl in our class, Marlene Alwood.  Gay, straight or in between, I don't know of anyone who would NOT be intimidated working with The Most Beautiful Girl In The Class.  And of course I was.

Me and Marlene in the Driver's Ed car - and me driving..watch out!

During my high school days I wasn't the outgoing, gregarious, back slapping personality that I am today.(which I am aren't I?)   Actually, during my high school days I was quite the dork, which I'm not ashamed to admit.  Besides being gay in the Fifties (and I was the Only One back then don't you know), I had almost zero social skills.  I think the only thing that saved me from turning into a juvenile delinquent was that I was so eager to please and most of my classmates took pity on me.  Plus I did have a few friends.  I wasn't totally friendless.

Me and Marlene posing for the band picture - I didn't actually play the drums nor did Marlene - fake picture!

On the day we were to go out and take the "typical class day photos", I was nervous. How would Marlene, The Most Beautiful Girl In The Class, treat me?  Would she be condescending?  Would she say "Eeww! when she found out she would be taking these pictures with me?  Would she even notice me?  Much to my surprise she was warm and friendly and not at all condescending.  In fact she was BEAUTIFUL, inside and out.  I was so thrilled.

All I can say is it was a good thing I wasn't straight because I would have fallen totally and irrevocably in love that day.  But God had other plans for me, Gay Plans.

That spring day in 1958 was the only close encounter I had with Marlene.  I saw her at our Senior Prom, looking outrageously beautiful of course and so gracious to me.  But other than that photo shoot for the our yearbook that day I didn't have any more interactions with Marlene. We had different classes and a different circle of friends.

Fast forward to our 50th class reunion on October 17th, 2009.  I have attended most of my class reunions.  Marlene had attended none.  I knew she was a nurse and a real estate agent who lived in Miami, Florida.  I knew this because I was still involved with the "yearbook" process of our class, I prepare the reunion booklet.  Imagine how thrilled I was when I heard Marlene would be making the trip from her home in Florida to attend our 50th class reunion at the Whitford Country Club in Downingtown, Pennsylvania.

I finally get my hug fifty years later!

This is why I go to the reunions folks.  I wanted to meet her again and tell her that I had a "crush" (as much as a gay guy can) on her.  At the reunion I did see her and I told her.  She was very amused and said she "never knew I felt that way."  I told her that I always thought she was the most beautiful girl in our class and I was literally tongue tied when we went out on that photo shoot all those years ago.  We both had a good natured laugh about this.  I asked if I could have my picture taken with her and of course she agreed.  Wouldn't you know it, the first picture turned out so blurred, probably because I was nervous all over again which she found very amusing.  I did too.  We took another shot and got a good one.

Me and Marlene, October 17th, 2009 - 50th DHS Class Reunion

This morning I received an e-mail from a classmate that Marlene had died.  Since our 50th class reunion several of my classmates have died, including my first real date.  All were healthy at the reunion but have now passed on.  I will write a blog post about them in the future.  But this morning, reading about Marlene's death hit me particularly hard.  Not that I fear death, I don't but  I fear losing all my friends and being left in this world as a lonely old man no one wants.

I remember again what my grandfather said to me when he was 87 years old.  He said "Ronnie, the hardest part about getting old is that you lose all your friends."  Today I found out I lost another friend and I am profoundly sad.

Rest in peace Marlene and thank you for your kindness to me and everyone else you touched during your life.

Russell "Rusty" Edward Henman

Russell Edward "Rusty" Henman
June 16, 1978 - July 1, 2012

Still in a bit in shock over the death of Russell "Rusty" Henman, a man I met only once but felt an immediate connection with.  Many times when someone dies, the accolades pour in about what a wonderful person the deceased was.  Haven't we all wondered at times at how true were all those wonderful statements?  Well, I can say for certainty, even though I only met Russ once (but followed his Facebook account ever since our meeting in October of 2009), that this man was one of those rare individuals that brought a smile to everyone's face.  They say the "good die young."  Russ was one of the good ones.

Here is my Find a Grave memorial tribute to this man.  I know Russ is in Heaven right now bringing smiles to the angels' faces.  Rest in peace big guy.

Richard C. Thomas

Every year I send out over one hundred Christmas cards, most of them to former co-workers, friends and relatives that I do not see during the year because of geography.  Sending out these Christmas cards is also a way I keep track of who among these folks is still living and who has passed on.

The last couple of years I have received sad notes from relatives of some of my Christmas card recipients informing me of their passing.  This year was no exception.  This week I received a short note from Bob Thomas, the brother of one of my Christmas card recipients who I did not receive a card from this year.

He informed me that his brother Dick had died on October 2, 2011.

Dick Thomas was the personnel officer who hired me to begin work at Girard Bank in Philadelphia in March of 1965.  A long, long time ago.  Dick worked in personnel (prior to the "Human Resources" days) for several years before he became a trust department officer.  I worked in trust operations.  We worked together for twenty two years.  After I left the bank I maintained my friendship with Dick.

Dick and me at lunch 1986 - Philadelphia, PA

Dick had a "Gentleman's Farm" in Honey Brook, Pennsylvania, not far from where Bill and I lived in "Whispering Pines" (the name Bill and I gave our 6.875 acre wooded paradise outside of Downingtown, PA).  I would often visit Dick at his farm which was about ten miles up the road from where we lived.

Dick lived in a grand old country farmhouse with a lot of history.  He took care of about thirty feral cats who would gather about his property, seeking food and shelter in his barn.  He loved that place.

Dick's cats wait to be fed

Thus, another piece of the mosaic of my life has passed on.

I called Bob yesterday to talk to him and to find out the manner of his brother's death.  He told me that Dick had died of prostate cancer.  He also told me that they honored Dick's wishes.  Dick was cremated and his ashes scattered over his property that he loved so much.

Rest in peace Dick.

Harold (another friend) and Dick at Dick's property in Honey Brook, PA 1980

Robert A. Zynn, Sr.

Robert A. Zynn, Sr.
Sept. 1, 1940 - Jan 6, 2012

This weekend I was informed of the death of another classmate of mine, Bob Zynn.  We both went to Downingtown High School, Downingtown, Pennsylvania.  We were the Class of '59, the last of the Fifties.

Bob with is fellow agriculture students (he is the tall guy standing in the middle in the back) 1959

Just last week I stopped in the card store to stock up on sympathy cards.  At my age (70) my friends and former classmates are starting to die with increasing frequency.  Just since our last class reunion in 1999, four of my classmates and three of their spouses have died. With a week into the new year, already I'm addressing a sympathy card to the spouse of my friend Bob Zynn.

Bob (behind the grill holding the can) and me (red shirt to the right) and our fellow classmates at a reunion picnic  in 2003 - another friend (man in the sunglasses on the left) also has passed on

Bob Zynn, who is featured in this blog posting was a neighbor of mine when Bill and I lived in Pennsylvania.  Bill and I knew his Bob and his wife Sandy well.  Bob and Sandy were on the class reunion committee as I was also.

Bob and his wife Sandy 

I know it is the usual thing to say when someone passes on how wonderful they were.  Sometimes that isn't always true.  This is not the case with Bob Zynn.  Bob was one of those rare individuals who was truly kind, caring and a real gentleman.

A reunion committee meeting - Bob is in the blue shirt to the left in the back - I'm in the front with the tanned knees

Bob was ill for about four years and his illness at times put a great hardship on his wife and family but through it all Bob remained the sweet and gentle guy that he always was.

Bob with fellow classmate Jean Swisher - always popular with the ladies

As one goes along in life we meet and interact with many people.  Some bad, some good and then there are those people who are truly special people.  Bob was one of those people.  We wasn't famous and he wasn't rich but he had that indelible "something" that few have - he was a true gentleman.  That is the first word that comes to my mind when I think of Bob.

Bob, always a smile and a laugh and kind eyes

Bob, thank you for being my friend.

Bob and I at our 40th Class reunion 1999

A Break With the Past

 Bacchus, The Roman god of wine and intoxication

Yesterday I reached onto top very top shelf of one of my kitchen cabinets to retrieve a porcelain server that my friend 'Jeff' (a pseudonym for my real friend's name used to protect his privacy) had given to me and Bill many years ago (1968) as a Christmas present.  'Jeff' used to work for John Wanamaker's department store in Philadelphia, PA.  He knew that I liked expensive knick knacks (I've since gotten over that compulsion) and thought I would like the beautiful (and expensive) Italian gravy boat with a lid.  Of course I was very pleased when I received this gift because Bill and I were just starting out keeping house together.  This server would go into my dining room cabinet for display and I would bring it out on special occasions.  Of course, what happened was that I never brought it out.  It was always on display. I never used it once.  NOT ONE TIME.  


I reached for it yesterday because I was thinking of donating it to a local Thrift Store that specializes in 'upscale' junk (Encore Thrift - sponsored by Clear Space Productions in Lewes, DE).  I brought it down, looked at its beauty, remembering the occasion in which it was given to us, and I decided that I didn't want to give it up yet.  It still brought back good memories.  Bill came into the kitchen as I was putting it back on the top shelf.  He asked me what I was doing and as I turned around to answer him I realized that the top of the server hit the top of the cabinet and came crashing down on my black granite counter top in the kitchen, shattering into many pieces.  My heart dropped as I looked at the many shards of now shattered porcelain of the Fancy Expensive Italian Gravy Boat That Was Only To Be Used For Special Occasions and realized that there was no repairing the top.  I would have taken a picture but my heart was too broken.  I didn't want to memorialize the destruction.  But then and there I decided that the remainder of the gravy boat and the other gifts that 'Jeff' had given Bill and I in subsequent Christmases were going to be given to the thrift store.  


I packed up the Italian gravy boat (sans lid that had a porcelain asparagus as a handle), the saucer that it sat on in a box, cushioned with styrofoam peanuts and newspapers.  I also packed up another server that had pansies as a handle.  Also there was a matching sugar and creamer set with the same pansy design.  They were all going to go to the thrift store that afternoon.  I wanted them out of the house immediately.  


I see the irony of this 'break', both literally and figuratively with my friendship with 'Jeff.' Of course I am now in the 'clean out' phase of my life.  There are still so many 'things' in this house that I don't need and will never yes that I should get rid of.  I have managed to do some clean out but it has been very difficult for me because I am a sentimental person.  A lot of stuff I keep because it does bring back good memories.  I have a load of things of my Mother's that I'm still hanging onto.  These are personal items that were cleaned out of her house in Pennsylvania after she moved to live with my brother in South Carolina in October of 2009.  My brothers had packed up everything of hers and when she died this past September they sent most of her things like her clothing to the Salvation Army and the local thrift store.  I took the personal items like her jewelry (all of which I gave to her). Her things are sitting in the corner of my basement now. I've put some of her teddy bears in the bedroom that I reserved for her but she never used.  I will keep them there until I die because it make me feel good when I go into 'her bedroom' and see them.


Pictured at the beginning of this posting is a porcelain replica of the Roman God Bacchus.  It was the first gift given to me by my friend 'Jeff.'  I told him I liked Royal Doulton figurines.  So what does he give me?  A beer mug of the God of Drunks!  What I really wanted was one of those beautiful, lithe female figurines by Royal Doulton.  But that was my friend 'Jeff."  Back then he was an alcoholic and loved to party.  Of course he would give me a beer mug.  So it was very appropriate that he would give me a beer mug celebrating the God of Partying.  


I placed Bacchus beer mug in my dining room cabinet and it has been there ever since he gave it to use forty-five years ago.  Whenever I look at it I am reminded of our friendship and all the good times we used to have together.  


Yesterday's 'break' may have signified the end of our friendship as I once knew it but this one, gross, ugly, expensive beer mug that I will never ever use will always be in my dining room cabinet to remind me of our happy and long friendship.  

Provincetown, Mass 1974

Time is Running Out

Incoming surf, North Shores, Gordon's Pond, Henlopen State Park July 29, 2010

This morning I received an e-mail from  former classmate Jean who informed me that another classmate of ours is now in hospice care.  Since our 50th class reunion was held last October 17, 2009, this is the third reminder that my generation time on this earth is coming to an end.

Last week I had a visit by a former classmate who recently lost her husband.  She told us that she knew her husband had a terminal illness (gall bladder cancer) but only a few knew at the reunion.

A few months another classmate of mine, Bonnie, died suddenly in her sleep.  I sat behind Bonnie in grade school.  We were both named school monitors at the same time.  Bonnie was my first official date (the Soph Hop when we were 15 years old - my father drove us to the dance much to my embarrassment.)

Bonnie and I lost touch over the years only to reunited at our 35th class reunion at which time we informed each other that we were both gay.  We joked about that date in which my father drove us to dance in his car.  He didn't have a chance to make out.  Likely story.  Anyway, after thirty-five years, we had a good chuckle about it.  It was quite a shock to my system when Bonnie died suddenly in her sleep.  It seems like I just saw her at the reunion (which I did.)

Now I get news that another well liked classmate of mine, Bill J., is in hospice care.  I was told that his cancer has spread to his bones.  We're having a 51st informal class reunion this September.  Jean told me that Bill is looking forward to attending our class get together in September.

My classmate Bill J. (to the left) and me at our 35th class reunion committee meeting 1994

Every day I am reminded of my mortality.  I think back to things that I did fifteen years ago and it doesn't seem that long ago.  I think fifteen years ahead and it is hard for me to wrap my head around the fact that I will be 83 years old.  Even if I am alive, will I be good for anything?  Will I be able to take my morning walks on the boardwalk in Rehoboth Beach?  Will I be able to mow my lawn?  Will I be able to take care of myself?

My longtime good friend Bob M. is only five years older than me.  I cannot talk to him anymore on the phone because he falls asleep on the other end of the line.  I can't have him over the house anymore because he almost backed his car into my house.  He fell down the steps (thank goodness he didn't break anything.)  The last time I had him over for dinner, he can't keep food in his mouth.  It's on the table, chair and floor.  His face has that look of a haunted person.  It is the look of the most cruel disease, slowly advancing dementia.  He's not there anymore.  His body is here but his mind isn't.

My friend Bob M. and me 1974 in Provincetown, Mass

My friend Ron H. died in 2005 from AIDS related diseases.  My friend Sal died in 2006, a month before I moved to Delaware (he was to visit me) from lung cancer. My friend and former co-worker Anne Marie died at the young age of 56 from breast cancer this past January.  I remember when she sent me an e-mail telling me that she was informed that she had terminal cancer and said she was "overwhelmed."  I was too.  I didn't know what to say.  Anne Marie always seemed so full of life.  It's hard for me to believe that I have outlived this vibrant woman.

My friend Ron H. 1962 Ft. Meade, MD (in my barracks room)

My friend Sal D. 1962 at Ft. Meade, MD

My friend Anne Marie from work - always a smile

I can't talk to my Mother anymore.  She has dementia and cannot care for herself now.  She is wheelchair bound and living with my brother and his wife in South Carolina.  She is being taking good care of.  We're doing all we can to keep her out of a nursing home.

Mom with my brother and sister-in-law for her trip to South Carolina

When I write my blog postings I try to keep them upbeat and positive.  I am a natural complainer and I am often tempted to write about my various complaints but I don't because who wants to read all that negativity?  Sometimes I can't help myself and I have to let out my pent up frustration.

This past week I have discovered a new pastime which is very relaxing and positive.  I take an early morning run down to Rehoboth Beach and walk a couple of miles on the boardwalk then sit myself on a bench and watch the people.  I love watching life and the activities of other people as long as there aren't too many screaming kids around (I can't take those piercing little girl screams or the whines of little boys.)

Healthy bikers at the Rehoboth Beach bandstand yesterday exercising on stationary bikes

I am fortunate that I live in such a beautiful area of the country.  I've worked hard all my life to get myself to this point in my life.  All those years I commuted to and from my job in Philadelphia.  I quit my job in the city when I was in my fifties because I feared that I would die before I ever got the chance to "live near the water."  I'm living near the water now and I enjoy everyday of by blessed existence here on the Delmarva peninsula.  Sure, there are some downsides.  The summertime traffic is horrendous but I can get around that.  Last summer the mosquitoes were relentless.  This summer the heat and humidity is relentless.  But I can still find those niches that afford me the quality of life that I seek.

One of my favorite blogs, Liberty and Independence, had a posting today about finding our niche in life and making the most of it.  The writer of that blog is a young man (compared to me at least, he's half my age.)  He has discovered the secret of living a life of quality.  Find your niche and live it.  For you never know when it will end.

The jetty at North Shores, Cape Henlopen State Park Thursday, July 29, 2010