Remember Julian Taber's letter? (deceased)Here is a copy of his letter dated April 2nd, 1988 in response to our 40th reunion:
J. Ingersoll Taber, Ph.D.
April 2, 1988
Bob Woeber (deceased) I think I remember a Bob Woeber from my Mt. Lebanon days. And I remember a number of the names on your missing list. The only one I really knew well is Charles Rettberg (deceased), and when he got into track we drifted apart. His family was from Baltimore and someone told me he became a lawyer. I went out for track, too, but Coach Mollenauer (spelling?) told me to lose some weight. I'm still trying. Your letter and announcement of the class of '48 reunion came as quite e jolt and stirred up a lot of old thoughts. I did not attend any of the past reunions and can't recall getting any announcements, so you are doing some real detective work. Congratulations! Although I will not be with you in June, you have my thanks and admiration for all the hard work involved in getting people back together. I will be making trips east in May and June, but the dates get all messed up and I cannot schedule three different trips. Should anyone be interested in the odd doings of the class nerd, I enclose a CV. To tell the truth, my life was miserable in public school. I view the whole thing as a prison camp experience. Things started getting better about five years after graduation and life has been increasingly rewarding ever since. Some of the holocaust victims seem to enjoy going back to the old camps for morbid ceremonies -- for myself, there are no circumstances which I could imagine that would draw me back to those awful years. I remember the character who was my homeroom teacher, some man named Oaks or Doaks. He told me once that, if I were really lucky, I might someday be a carpenter's helper. The only course worth a damn was typing; I have used that skill daily ever since. There was an airhead named Clark who coached basketball and taught everything except sex in "hygiene." There was an hysterical-compulsive lady who taught only diagramming of sentences (I admired her tits) and there was an amusing gentleman who taught public speaking (Mills or Miles?). He did an excellent imitation of a drunk which I suspect he learned first hand. The thought of having a video is absolutely appalling, but thanks anyway. I survived high school and made it into the bottom third of the class while working 30 hours per week at -- do you remember -- Bard's Dairy Store, now long since in bankruptcy. A poor kid in a rich school. My brother James got out in '46 and after army service became an operative for The Company. Scorning my mother's good advice, I became a psychologist and have spent the latter part of my career in close company with compulsive gamblers, drug users and alcoholics. Today I work in Reno and live at Lake Tahoe in California. In my wildest dreams I could never have imagined what was to come, and looking back over the years it is hard to believe that I really was the person I was forty years ago. I do hope so much that everyone has a deeply rewarding reunion. My thoughts will be with you all.
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