THE HIGH SCHOOL YEARS 1939-1943
Hazel Park High School was a Class A Michigan High School of some 600-800 students at that time. It was a half mile ride, or a walk of one block, south of 9-mile road and one block east of Reynolds Street where I lived. As I remember it, I seemed to walk it more than bike it and it was an exciting time of my life moving from a Junior High to a High School. It made you feel like a big shot and finally was growing up and no longer a juvenile or little kid.It’s hard for me to chronologically describe my high school years so I’ll try and put them in reasonable order by listing events under certain topics.
Our Supt. was John Erickson whom I mentioned as a 1903 classmate of my mom. The principal was Howard Beecher, a stern disciplinarian, who no kids enjoyed being hauled into his office if they misbehaved. Thankfully, I never had that pleasure (or displeasure) during my four years of attendance. Among several coaches that I had from freshmen to senior, the one who I remember the most and admired the most was B.N. Grba, who
English was never one of my favorite courses in school and Miss Schalm was not a particular favorite of mine as I struggled to maintain C’s in her class. HOWEVER, when I enrolled in college after World War II I breezed through freshmen rhetoric with relative ease picking up A Minus and B Plus grades. I saw Miss
Schalm that summer following my freshman college year and told her that I didn’t appreciate her at the time and thought she was quite mean, but despite my attitude she must have ingrained something into that thick skull of mine as I breezed thru freshman rhetoric with amazing ease. She seemed to get quite a kick out of it and thanked me and wished me luck in the rest of my college career. Mr. Harold Richards-social science, Miss Jane Lombard-typing, and Miss Margaret Martin-journalism were three teachers that I enjoyed taking their classes.
I was particularly active
in outside activities during my high school days. I was President of
the Honor Society my senior year and a member since my sophomore
year. I believe you had to maintain a B minus or better average to
belong. I graduated with an 88 % average (B-B+). I was
President of the HI-Y Club my junior year. The Hi-Y was a Christian
Young Men’s Organization formed for the purpose of “creating, maintaining, and
extending throughout the school and community high standards of Christian character.” Mr.
Richards was our advisor and along with Don McIlvride and Bill McIntyre, two of
my buddies, we attended the thirty-ninth Annual Michigan State Y.M.C.A. summer
camp at Torch Lake in Bellaire MI between my junior and senior years. It was a
week-long camp with many activities in an outdoor setting. The HI-Y
put out free programs at all home football games, co-sponsored with the Girl
Reserves style show, and sponsored an Annual Sadie Hawkins
Dance. Meetings were held twice a month.
MY SPORTS CAREER IN HIGH SCHOOL
I
remember vividly my first cross country meet. It was at Birmingham
Seaholm, a powerhouse team that consistently ranked among the best Michigan had
to offer in high school cross country. We started out with one lap
around the track and then out the gate and followed a winding course around
town ending up with one lap around the track at the finish. I wasn’t
the last person as we ran around town and when we re-entered the stadium for
the final lap, I saw 3 Birmingham runners barely jogging ahead of me and
gathered a second wind from somewhere deep down put on a burst of speed passing
all three and crossing the finish line with a satisfied smile on my
face. It was soon wiped out, however, when I discovered the three
opponents, I passed had finished who knows how far ahead of me and were merely
warming down as they jogged a few practice laps around the track.
My
only other recollection of my cross-country career was in the season ending
Regional Meet at Eastern Michigan University in Ypsilanti where 140 runners
toed the line to start and staring me in the face was the biggest hill, I think
I had ever seen or so I thought at the time. The gun sounded and
everyone took off like it was a hundred-yard dash. Let the fools go
I thought they’ll surely run themselves into the ground. I survived
the hill but to my chagrin had to scale it a second time on the two-mile
course. To make a long story short I remember placing 108th out
of 140 starters so for me that was a success.
In
the ninth grade I played JV basketball as a sixth or seventh man and played JV
baseball which was my favorite sport and the first contact up to that time as I
had only played softball prior. As a sophomore I continued to play
JV basketball without any outstanding memories and made the Varsity as a
starting 3rd baseman in baseball. I earned the first of three
letters in that sport before graduating. I thoroughly enjoyed my
baseball career at Hazel Park. We were in a league with Ferndale,
Royal Oak, East Detroit, Mount Clemens, Port Huron, and Berkley among
others. Berkley was particularly interesting for a couple of reasons. During
football season we always played them the last game of the season and the
rivalry was intense. The night before the game students from each
town would venture over to the other town which was about five miles apart and
try to paint their names on anything they could find in the business
district. It got so bad that it was carried over to the game one
year in which a fight broke out on the field and school authorities cancelled
the game for a couple of years. In basketball Berkley played in their
cafeteria which was made into a basketball court on game nights. The
first time I played there my first three shots hit the ceiling it was so
low. They were used to it and excelled in line drive
shots. We lost on their floor 35-33 and later when they came down to
our floor, we whipped them 48-24.
My
sophomore year in baseball I played 3rd base and always said
that if my chest held out, I would be ok because I wasn’t afraid to get in
front of the ball and stop it even if I didn’t field it cleanly and still have
time to throw the runner out. They didn’t call it the “HOT CORNER”
for nothing. I was never a particularly good hitter with averages in the lower
200’s during my career, but always was a heady player that was thinking ahead
for the next play and trying to get a jump on the opponents (which put me in
good stead later in life when I began my coaching career). I was not
fast but could get a good jump on most pitchers and stole some bases when least
expected. The most memorable was at Port Huron, one afternoon, when
I stole home against the pitcher who had a slow delivery to the
batter. I used to love to see a lefthander on the mound for our
opponents. I don’t have any stats to back it up, but probably hit in
high 300’s against lefties. One of the top high school hurlers my last two
years was a black lefthander from Henry Ford Trade school which we played every
year. His name was Lillard Cobb, and I believe he had a tryout with
some minor league teams but never stuck with them. I used to hit him
well, one of a very few high school hitters that did. I met him at
Hi-Y summer camp, and he was an outstanding young man. We did not
play against many blacks in those days, we only had one black family in Hazel
Park, and they had one son who played some JV basketball, but that was about
it.
Between
my junior and senior years, I played amateur ball in the summer as a starting
center fielder. We won our league and got to play in the Class B
State tournament at Bailey Field in Battle Creek. This was a big
deal for me as we stayed in a hotel for two nights and got to play on a grass
infield, the first time I had ever had that opportunity, although as a center
fielder it didn’t affect my play that much. It was a two-game
knockout tournament, and we lost our first two games so went home
early. The competition was so much superior to high
school. There were no age limits and through the course of the year
in our league and the tournament we came up against several former minor league
players including a couple of pitchers who still threw a lot of smoke up the
plate.
In
my junior year I finally made the Basketball Varsity as the 2nd player
off the bench. I got into about half of the 16 regular season games
for a couple of minutes at a time and was a little disappointed when at the end
of the year I had not acquired enough playing time to get my
letter. In those days you had to really earn your letter unlike
today where practically anyone who finishes the season on a team is awarded a
letter. FINALLY in my senior year I made the varsity and played guard on first
team throughout the year. Our center was 6’2” Chuck Eastland who
graduated in January. Bill McIntyre and I were 5’10, Bill and Don
McIlvride were 5’ 9” and Roy Wallace, our other starter, was about 5’5” if that
high. We finished the season with an 8 and 8 record including a
first-round defeat in our district tournament to Pontiac 37-34. We
averaged 35 points a game to our opponents 34.4 PPG. I averaged in
the vicinity of 5-8 PPG. I remember scoring 16 points in one game
and thought I was in heaven. I was rather good defensively and
usually guarded the opponent’s high scorer. We opened the season at
Port Huron and were soundly thumped 35-15. Later in the year when
they came to Hazel Park, we were down 18-5 at the half and one of their players
scored 12 of them. I asked the coach (Dan Lutkus) if he would let me
guard this guy the second half. I did and held him to 2 points, and
we ended up winning 32-30 in my most memorable game and the first time to my
knowledge that Hazel Park beat Port Huron in basketball.
As
you might surmise with my busy schedule, academically and athletically, I
didn’t have a lot of time for girls or social life. The one girl
that I always had eyes for from 8th grade on was Shirley Hyde
and I would talk to her when occasion presented itself, but never actually
dated until my junior year when I got up enough courage to ask her to a
movie. I dated her on and off and by end of my senior year we were
dating steadily. I didn’t know how to dance and wasn’t particularly
interested in learning, but I did take her to the prom in our junior and senior
years. I guess I got out on the floor and stumbled around a little
and imagine she was completely bored with the whole thing. When I
was in the service I corresponded with her regularly while in training and I
guess you could say I was in love or thought I was. After going
overseas, the letters stopped coming and stopped altogether and when I got home,
I found out she was going steady, and I never saw her again. Of the
three class reunions I attended in later years she never attended, and I
understand she was happily married, in the real estate business, and later was
in poor health. Another girl I liked a lot and kidded around with
quite a bit was Barbara Langnau a member of the yearbook staff and my
journalism class. I was told she had the hots for me, and I did go
on one date with her to a movie but was not interested in any long-term relationship. After
graduation, I never saw her again and she died at a fairly young age, of what,
I do not know. Shirley and Barbara were the only two girls I ever
dated, but I got along well with the feminine side and had several girls who I was
friendly with.
On
the male side two boys, who were not athletes, were good friends of
mine. John Morrison, I guess in today’s terms would be considered a
nerd. Extremely intelligent, he preferred chess and reading to sports. I
remember he kept after me to learn chess and after a refresher course he gave
me for about an hour we played a game and in about 3 moves I was check-mated or
whatever you call it, and the game was over. So was my chess career.
(Where did Neil get his expertise in chess?) Well, now you know it
was not from his dad. John was another person who died at a young age and I
never saw him after I left for the service. Bill Fisher was another
good buddy of mine through high school although he too had no interest in
sports. We spent time together going to movies and just hanging
out. Bill went into service with me, and we served in the same unit in European theater. Bill
was taken prisoner by the German forces in the Battle of the Bulge during the
war. After the war I saw him once or twice, but lost track of him and like John
died at a young age. Whether it was a result of his confinement
during the war I can’t say.
My
closest friends in high school were the McIlvride boys Don, Bill, Gordie, and
Roy Wallace and Bill McIntyre. We especially spent a lot of time
together in the summer playing tennis, baseball, and hanging out together at
the movies. Don’s mother Birdie was especially revered by all us
boys as she liked nothing better than to have us come over to the house and
hang around. She would always have some goodies to eat and would
entertain us with her piano playing or we could entertain ourselves with her
player piano. After the war Gordie McIlvride (Bill’s oldest brother) and I were
close and played many rounds of golf together. We even got enough
nerve to take dance lessons together from Arthur Murray Studios and then would
go over to Mrs. Mac’s house and practice our steps with Birdie. Mr.
McIlvride, Don’s dad, was a milkman and a former ball player in Vancouver,
British Columbia and liked to spend time telling us about his baseball days and
loved to go to the park when he had the time and play baseball with us. He
still had an eye for the ball as we tried our mightiest to strike him out, but
rarely succeeded as he was a left-handed, punch hitter who could spray the ball
to all fields.
When
I was a sophomore in 1941, I can remember one Sunday afternoon I was listening
to an NFL football game on the radio with the New York Giants playing and they
interrupted the game to announce that the Japanese had attacked Pearl
Harbor. This was December 7, 1941 a “Day in Infamy” as President
Franklin D. Roosevelt stated the next day in officially declaring War on Japan
and their allies, Germany, and Italy. This of course had a tremendous impact on
my future endeavors, which I probably didn’t realize at the time as I was more
concerned as a high school sophomore with my schoolwork and extra-curricular
activities. On my 18th birthday I registered for the draft and for the first
time realized in a short time 4-5 months I would be graduated from High School
and headed into service. Like many young men of that era flying
seemed to be a glamorous activity and I decided I would like to get into the
Air Corp as a pilot. Why I don’t know as I’m not, nor ever was,
mechanically inclined, didn’t drive a car nor was particularly inclined to do
so as my dad always said when I was old enough to pay for my car, I would be
old enough to learn to drive. At any rate I filled out papers to
join the Air Corps. In the spring of 1943 (my senior year) after
passing the written test with no problem I set out for Selfridge Air Base in
Mount Clemens for an exhaustive all day physical exam. I breezed
thru the morning tests with no problems, but after lunch my projected Air Corps
career came to a shrieking halt as my one eye tested out at 20-30 while the
other one was perfectly normal 20-20. BUT that was it. I was sent
home. It’s ironical because later in the war they were taking most
anyone that could breathe. I will not complain, however, because I’m
here today to relate this story and had I gone on to become a pilot who knows
what might have happened.
I spent about 4 days at Fort Custer, and it seemed that three and a half of those days were spent doing K-P, which for the uninitiated is commonly known as Kitchen Police but is more like purgatory as I never saw so many pots and pans to be washed and cleaned in my life. Had I known then what I know now I would have wandered off to the army store or taken a hike somewhere as it was so disorganized that they didn’t know where anyone was or probably didn’t care. Thank God this was only for briefing and orientation, shots, etc. and I soon was on a troop train to deep in the heart of Texas to Camp Hood, south of Waco. I was in the North camp, which was basically Infantry, while the south camp was basically armored divisions.
.JPG)
.jpg)
.jpg)
