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Some more thoughts about past classmates, from the CCHS class of 1974.
Giggles, Integrity, Lovably Snide,
Competitor and Respect
Again a look at some from our small class,
Yearbook thoughts, help me in my chosen chore,
Photos forty eight years, back in the past,
My recollections waver, distant shores.
Sherri, the giggle still sounds, bell of brass,
Annelea, our integrity core,
Elston and onions, snide remark landmass,
Mike, competitor, talents to high scores.
Kim, quietly rode towards respect, torch to pass,
I can’t deny a pride, ‘Bulldog’, yet more,
All did not wear the blue back then, alas,
But all our dreams fluttered high, off to soar.
Again a disclaimer, only my thoughts,
Are my raw materials, casting lots.
Sherri King (Curry)
From Broadus she appeared upon our scene,
Felicity, fetching — laugh for all time,
To a heavy male class, a female teen,
A sense of humor, it, simply sublime.
This classmate, purely unique, chow mein,
One without teenage moods, mild enzyme,
A laugh but guaranteed, her smile’s sheen,
Her front put all at ease, not sour like lime.
She was with Kim most of time without cling,
So a kinship, inevitable chime,
Rang true towards this girl, grateful wellspring,
A giggle beyond approach, a warming rhyme.
Sherri was our laugh, it — which echoes still,
Arizona sunsets find her, God’s will.
Annelea Kittlemann (Redding)
Annelea, at town when I arrived,
Her country cousins, I knew before her,
Within our class she was solid, was prized,
Respected throughout those days, a grand fir.
She serious, her leather belt incised,
With her name in back, Westerner ampere,
With others traveled unlike I, stylized,
Our diverse class, scrambled eggs or by shirr.
Rodeo club was her place, with horse revived,
Far removed, but flavors blend, boot with spur,
And my hair, which was too long, yet we thrived,
In our small universe then, with our churrs.
She’s now on a ranch, and forever stayed true,
Close to horse neighs and calves’ bawls, prairie views.
Elston Loken
Elston inside Helen’s Locker Plant,
That is distinctly the crystal image,
Hamburger with onions, movement like ants,
A booming voice early, football scrimmage.
Elston played on the line, grass stains on pants,
He, brave and tough as nylon, unprivileged,
He, anti-shy, for sure, his solid stance,
Roomed with Ed, it was there, the vibes vintage.
Elston, gregarious, howl of noise, chants,
He would tell one what he thought, no gimmick,
And no joke stood a chance, told with his slants,
Elston, one of a kind, strong — without spinach.
Once later, he was fueling his backhoe,
Just passing through, him planted, head to toe.
Mike Quade
Mike was a competitor, outdid himself,
Frequently in all things, always the friend,
And from Wibaux he joined us, off the shelf,
On the playground, his presence, a portend,
Of long life to come, roots grew deep in health,
Rooted firmly in town, just the right blend,
Always added value, through deeds not stealth,
Drenched in sports, by ball field found on weekend,
He close to the coaches, his sports share dealth,
Trained harder than most, and reaped in the end,
With a tenor singing voice, clear with depth,
Mike, American, even to transcend.
Mike, he followed his Dad’s footsteps back home,
He, no surprise, sure as a heady foam.
Kim Rehbein (1956-2019)
Now, I cannot claim to have known Kim well,
But suddenly in class he’d become “Hec”,
Kim was of cowboy stock, “Hec” seemed the spell,
His teenage story from TV’s blank check.
Kids had our school nicknames, where we dwell,
Kim had his, would grin at its pain in neck,
He did not ruffle things, tried not to sell,
Himself much, him humbled without effect.
We in general math, to credits quell,
Mrs. Sikorski — problems to select,
We worked on the blackboard with its dust smell,
So long ago, and blurred, Kim — my respect.
At Sidney’s Holly Sugar he anchored,
He was nice, down to earth, never hankered.
Next week Tom Rutledge, Peter Sikorski, Rob Strub, Jeff Tauck and Velma Taylor (Healy)
— Erwin Curry, CCHS Class of 1974
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