Memorial Day 2018....CLASS OF '51

MONDAY, MAY 28, 2018

MEMORIAL DAY 2018...CLASS OF '51

"THOSE MATCHLESS DAYS"

  CHS CLASS of 1951

"EVERY ONE OF THEM WAS DEAR TO 

    MY HEART!".....JIMMY BLAIR

*****************************************

"SO MANY FRAGMENTS OF THE SPIRIT 

   HAVE I SCATTERED IN THESE STREETS..."

      .......K.G.

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"BREAK, BREAK, BREAK,

    ON THY COLD GREY STONES, O SEA!

AND I WOULD THAT MY TONGUE COULD  UTTER

   THE THOUGHTS THAT ARISE IN ME.

BREAK,  BREAK, BREAK,

    AT THE FOOT OF THY CRAGS, O SEA!

BUT THE TENDER GRACE OF A DAY THAT IS DEAD

   WILL NEVER COME BACK TO ME."

-----ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON, 1835

       (Elegy written in memory of a dear friend,

             A.H.)

*****************************

We little Clovis kids began our journey in life

together in 1939 at two grade-schools---Eugene Field

and La Casita.

In 1951, we ended our days together and set  out

to tackle life...but we never forgot our earliest friends

on the journey...reunions were held in 1961, 1976, 

1981, 1986, 1991, 1996; the Fiftieth was in 2001,

then three more---2003 at Kerrville, Texas, and 2006

and 2008 in Albuquerque.

The CNJ recently carried some short remarks 

regarding our class: We graduated "126  on May 17,

1951,"

Once a year it is fitting to remember our friends from

"THOSE MATCHLESS DAYS," as our friend Donald

Todd has so aptly characterized them.

*********************

IN MEMORY OF:

Jimmy Abernethy

Jimmy Blair

Don Campbell

Zeno Crosswhite

Bruce Davis

Geraldine Edwards

Billy Harwell

Billy Hasty

Thomasina Ingram Murrell

Charlotte Kelly

Marlene Lancaster

Donald Mardis

Robert Roberts

Jerry Robert

R.G. Snipes

Pat Thompson

James Timmons

Jimmy Whatley

Bobby Wilhite

Jo Ann Williams

Sherman Williams

Noel Douherty

Vera Lou Priddy

Engle Southard

Dorothy Trigg

Dixie Sanderson

Jerry Crook

Wanda King Snipes

John Thorn Marshall

Rita Gayle Delaney

Charles Mason

Marcia Stebbins
Earl Riley
Jackie Pearce
Gene Walker
Albin Covington
Dave Collins

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SOME TEACHERS, from '39...

Ms. Tennyson, Ms. Bledsoe, Ms. Ballou,  Dr. Gaddis

     Ms. Holloway, Ms. Broiles, Mr. McDougal, 

Ms. Jenkins, Mr. Elms, Ms. Macfarland, Mrs.. Martin

Ms. Buchanan, Ms. Atchley, Mr. Stockton, 

    Mr. Norman, Ms. Barton, Ms. Clarke, Mr. Norman

Mrs. Putnam, Dewey Miller, Coach Brock, Mr. Moser

Mr. Barton, Beloved Senorite Dora Russell, 

    Dave St. Clair, Ms. Bayless, Coach Harmon...

Mr. Hudson....

*********************

"I returned and saw under the sun, that

the race is not to the swift, nor the battle

to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise,

nor yet riches to men of understanding,

nor yet favor to men of skill, but time and 

chance happeneth to them all.

ECCLESIASTES 9:11

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BY MIL

MEMORIAL DAY, 2018

Memorial Day 2018, CHS '51.....REMEMBERING DAVE COLLINS

       Clovis High School


                            CHS Class of '51

          "REMEMBERING DAVE COLLINS"
          Written by Sue Taylor Bridges

I cannot remember meeting Dave Collins because I knew him all of his life. He, his parents, Roy and Clarine, his older brother, Clark, and younger brother, Pat, lived west of us; the county road going north and south divided our property. The Running Water Draw, ran through their property and ours. They lived on the north and we were south, so when " the draw came up" we would yell across the water to each other.

Dave and I started to schools together in September 1939 at Claud which was northwest of our property. Clarine, who was more like a relative than a neighbor, took Dave and me to 4H club. When we were to start the 7th grade, Claud Schools was closed and we were scheduled to ride the bus from Claud to Pleasant Hill.  Mother and the Collins decided to take turns driving us to Clovis to school, so Dave and I joined Clovis Junior High for the 7th grade in the fall of 1946.

I remember Dave as a very kind, friendly, helpful person. He and Shade Gore were both very good at math and I was determined that they wouldn't beat me, so we all turned out to be good students.

As I remember, after we graduated from Clovis High School in 1951, Dave realized there was no money for him to go to college, so he volunteered for the Army, served his two years and then went to Eastern New Mexico University. He received his degree in math, then spent his career with an aircraft company.

Some time early on after high school he married a Chambers girl.  I think her name is Iwana, but am not sure. Sadly, I don't know what children they had. I do know upon retiring, they moved back to Portales and were very active with Habitant for Humanity. 

          Sue Taylor Bridges

          "REMEMBERING DAVE COLLINS"
           by Shade Goar
       

Dave and I attended the first through sixth grade at Claud Grade School.  Claud Grade School was located thirteen miles north of Clovis and one mile east of the Grady highway.  For the 1945-46 school year, several parents, including mine, Dave's and Sue's felt the the best thing for the kids was to personally transport them to Clovis schools, rather than by bus eleven miles over dirt roads to Pleasant Hill High School.

The Collins family consisting of Mr. and Mrs. Collins, Older brother Clark, Dave, and younger brother Pat.  They lived on a ranch approximately ten miles north of Clovis and about five miles west of the Grady Highway.  The Taylors lived across the section line from the Collins.  Dave and I were best friends from first grade, spending the night with each other when we could escape the home chores.

Upon graduation from Clovis High, Dave attended Eastern in Portales for two years.  He was drafted into the Army for two years.  Upon completion of his army duty, he returned to Eastern, and graduated with a BS in mathamatics.  He went to work for General Dynamics in Fort Worth for a while (I don't know how long) where he was in their nuclear program.  At some time he moved to Los Alamos, and retired from there.  He then moved to Portales, where he built a home.  The last time I talked to him, (in 2003), he was helping build a house for Homes for Humanity.

Memorial Day 2018, CHS CLASS OF '51....REMEMBERING ALBIN COVINGTON

    CLOVIS HIGH SCHOOL

DR. ALBIN COVINGTON

Albin Covington, a minister and teacher, passed

away around Thanksgiving, 2017 from injuries

sustained in a car accident near his home

in Missouri.

He was a US NAVY veteran and was laid to rest 

in the Veteran's Cemetary, Jacksonville, Mo.

Below is a piece written by me just after the sad

event.

---------------------

Albin lived up in Missouri for a number of
years.

Back in 2011 when BE and I began MIL'S 

PLACE, he wrote five or six nice pieces

about old Clovis, movies there, riding the

elevator up and down in the Clovis Hotel

on Saturdays for recreation, and adventures

experienced at our La Casita alma mater.

His family lived in Mertzon, Texas when he 

was very young and his mother ran a little

lunchroom near the school there. I was

well-acquainted with Mertzon and wrote a

story about that little town, west of San

Angelo, partly because of Albin. 

They moved to Clovis on "Pearl Harbor Day."

He wrote about it and I posted it, a year or two 

ago.

After high school before he went to the USN

he was working on the railroad south of Artesia.

An accident occurred which injured his leg.

A doctor Russell was summoned from town and

came and treated him.

Later in Dr. Russell's office Albin noticed a photo

of Dora Russell and said to the old doc, "Is that

your wife?" "No,"replied Dr. Russell, "that is my

daughter, Dora---she is a fine Spanish teacher."

I regret now..that I have forgotten his Spanish

name...we all had one in Dora's classes.

I always sent Albin everything I wrote, and

he usually responded. He sent me several

sermons, but we didn't usually post sermons. 

He had lost two wives and he hinted of his

loneliness.

He was especially fond of Art Snipes and liked

to say it was Art who befriended him when he 

arrived in our hometown. He mentioned this 

more than once to me.

A most interesting story he sent but was never

published, and I recite it from memory. I believe

this is correct: Albin joined the National Guard

after Navy days. He was once an army truck 

driver and hauling a heavy load down the pass

through the Organ Mountains into Las Cruces…

it may be called the St. Augustine Pass, not

sure—and his brakes failed...there he was flying

downhill...I don't remember if he was able to

"gear down" or run into a field, or what. I once

wrote and asked him to repeat the story, but he

never did.

The Class of '51 would never have been complete

without him. We were lucky he walked with us.

A non-pretentious man with nothing to prove--

how refreshing.

 Albin, we will miss you.

      "Therefore never send to know for whom 

         the bell tolls...it tolls for thee."

             .....John Donne,162O

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MIL

4 December 17

You may remember, he gave the benediction 

at the fiftieth CHS '51 Reunion in Clovis

Memorial Day 2018.....CHS CLASS OF '51...REMEMBERING GENE WALKER

"We will meet you in the morning by the
     bright river side...when all sorrow
         has drifted away..."
             ...Old Southern Gospel Hymn


          Clovis High School


                     CHS Class of '51

DR. R. GENE WALKER

I didn't really get to know Gene until 

September of 1945 when the La Casita 

and the Eugene Field elementary  

school kids went to Clovis Junior High 

and the seventh grade.

In later years I found out that he and I

were in the Clovis Junior Police 

that met every Saturday morning at

the Sunshine Theater for a movie, ten-

cent popcorn, and a "briefing" on how

to keep a lookout for "perps," and 

also avoid being one. 

We had gray/blue uniform shirts with

shoulder emblems, all bought at

Levine's, and Gene was the 

Chief of the JuniorPolice.

At Junior High, he and Phyllis took 

Spanish 1 from Ms. MacFarland and 

danced the Jarabe Tapatillo in a 

musical at the Junior High gym..

In my mind I can still see the 

class-to-be of '51 graduating from

ninth grade one bright May morning…

marching in from the gym's N.E..

door to the stirring and unforgettable

strains of "POMP and CIRCUMSTANCE."

Gene was there in the school orchestra

playing his cello and looking sharp in

his orchestra suit. I was impressed and

that day was etched on my mind...we 

were young and feeling grown up on

that sunny May day of 1948...and really

beginning to feel like tackling life.

On to high school, where Gene and I were

in Boy's Chorus, Mr. Miller's Chemistry

class, and Spanish Three---taught by one

of our favorite teachers of all...Dora

Russell. We all had Spanish names and

Gene told me a few years ago that his was 

"Rafael," since Ms. Russell said there was

no "Gene" in Spanish. (I had forgotten kids'

Spanish names...)

There were ten class reunions over the 

years and the class owes much to Gene 

and his wife Phyllis (also CHS '51) for their

faithful efforts in planning class events.

After I began writing MIL'S PLACE, Gene

and I were often on e-mail with each other,

with some bit of class news...maybe a loss

of another classmate. ... sadly...

We lost track of a third of the class and he

told me several years ago "I'm afraid there

aren't that many of us left."

An interesting thing occurred early in 2017.

I saw a picture of the Methodist

Church's Men's Bible Class posted on a 

Clovis memorial calendar. It was somewhat

non-denominational, I think, and I wrote 

Gene with some questions about it.

Turned out that he himself had taught that

august class at one time and he sent me 

a packet of his lessons as a matter of 

interest and said: "You can keep these."

They were interesting, well-done, and I 

keep them as a fond memory.

Gene and Phyllis were in Albuquerque 

from time to time over he years and 

some of us CHS '51 "kids" would get 

together for breakfast or lunch at Daily 

Grind or Whole Foods.

He left us in 2017 and it was a big loss

to our beloved Class which graduated

that long-ago day in May, 1951.  Gene 

had spent his life in his dental practice

there in Clovis. He had many friends.

The class had lost a leader.

In fond memory....we will not forget...

----------------

"CHORTLE"

The man on TV got my attention.

He said: "When I heard that, it made me

'CHORTLE. ' " 

Now I had run across, or heard that word

before....a few times. And I liked it. 

It was some sort of laugh I thought, and 

it sounded downright cool---kind of down-

home and a bit avuncular---like an older

favorite uncle would do.

Not a loud, showy boisterous "HO HO"or

"AH HAH HAH," or pulling all stops---a

"HAWH HAWH HAWH," making everyone

turn their heads ...and gawk!

Nossir, I figured it was more the laugh of

an old timer who'd "been there" in life,

had seen and heard fun things before,

and so....was rewarding the teller of 

something decently and respectably 

humorous with a well-appointed and well-

crafted polished laugh...tasteful and all...

Anyway, that was my thinking when I went

to Henry II and googled "chortle." I needed

to get all the info I could, as I was somewhat

taken by this word....and concept.

Here's the result: "laugh in a breathy, gleeful

way." And further---"a hearty, happy,

satisfying laugh."

So in planning "my new laugh" which I was

hoping to add to my "laugh-cabulary,"  I

did the only smart thing left---going to my

Beloved Editor (aka known as "B.E,") and

asking: "Do you know anything about 

"chortling?"

Her eyes brightened as she seemed to go

back into the archives of her mind, and

remember something with great fondness.

And sit down for this...

"Ah yes, well do I remember all those years

at our church... we had a beloved deacon

who sat near the front on the right side of the

sanctuary and he loved every word of the 

services."

"Often," she continued, "a preacher or

someone would say something humorous

and as the congregation's laughter was 

diminishing, Dale would then give his own

stamp of approval with a dignified, but 

resonating "Ho ho oh oh oh ho." As if an

"amen-ing" echo...

B.E. continued: "It was one of the most 

priceless things I remember about Dale

and those past days in our church."

There you have it my friends, my best 

attempt to acquaint you, with a "chortle."

I'll admit, if you see me on the street, 

don't worry none if I'm laughing slightly

under my breath...I'll just be practicing

Dale's  CHORTLE...as I too remember him

and his laugh---with great fondness.

"ho ho ho ho ho ho..."

 "chortle...chortle..."

-----------

MIL

5/22/18

THE "OLD-TIME RELIGION" TREE

Old timers...

      read "real-old timers..."

are not really certain about how

    the old Hamilton piano

got left out in the woods,

      forgotten...

Well, I am told---there was 

    along in the twenties

when people believed in God---

      out in those woods 

among the farms and near the

   little town---

A BIG BRUSH ARBOR "REVIVAL

               MEETING"

People came from all over

    and camped out, some with their 

cows and chickens since 

there was a crick nearby...

And they got some young guys 

    to haul that heavy piano 

out there and out of four---

    two got hernias.

Those who recall those simpler times

     say:

"O you should've been there, 

      anywhere around, for:

-----at a hundred yards the singing 

           was beautiful

-----at a half mile it was grand

                    and

-----at a mile it was magnificent !!!!"

It lasted three weeks, day and night,

    and when it was over

everyone was "revivaled-out."

The four young piano movers  were

    nowhere to be found, 

and after the chairs were hauled away

     and the place cleaned up---

THERE THE OLD PIANO SAT...

Some said "We'll get it before fall..."

    but the years went on, 

and others said "we'll build a little shed,"

     and some widows sprayed 

it with Hailey's Guaranteed Waterproofing...

And over time it became a picnic place,

     a courting place, and young 

couples would go and a girl would play

    and they'd sing together, 

old-timey songs like "Lorena" and "Evalina"

    and "Loch Lomond..."

Time was, with the wet felts and all, it 

     went-out-of -tune

but somehow the piano became a 

     place of memories and 

even malicious vandals bothered

    not the old instrument.

Then a little tree sprouted and grew 

    right up thru it, anchoring it

          forever onto the ground,

just as it was already anchored 

    in the hearts of the people...

It is said that on occasional spring or

    summer nights, pensive piano

tunes, as if from old revival 

    times---can be heard, kind of

"ghost-like" on the gentle 

      winds-of-the woods---

like  "Tell Me The Old Old Story

    of Jesus and His Love,"

              or

"Jesus Paid It All, All To Him  I Owe..."

and one dear old lady says,

     "My sins fell away from my 

soul, not twenty feet from that

         blessed old piano."

-------------

BY MIL

7 MAY 2018