HHS (HHS) Class of 1963 Alumni List

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Class Memories From 1963

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Kolob for burgers and exotic sodas, Hilltop for taco plate, Wayside for BBQ, DQ for shakes, A&W for rootbeer float! The Downtowner was a big hangout after school. Dragging Main from one end of town to the other was a weekend ritual. Memories!
Cool Hangouts Posted: 08/11/2009
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(Holbrook, AZ Dec 1961 - reposted sans blue language - BTW, the multiple periods below suggest a PARAGRAPH BREAK which this site unfortunately removes from my otherwise stellar punctuation!) . . .

The siren was wailing and red lights were flashing in my rear view mirror. It was Christmas vacation time in Holbrook, froze-breath cold outside - a light fog lingered on the car windows. We pulled over. . . .

Police Chief Bud Brown strode up to the driver's window, tapped with his night stick, pointed at me, then twirled his finger in a circle. . . .

"Roll it down," he commanded! I complied. . . .

"You guy's can't honk your horn," he said. . . .

I looked at my 'shotgun,' passenger (Jim Soehner), shrugged, and asked quizzically, "what did he say?" . . .

"You can't honk," Sheriff Brown interrupted, "at each other - you know - when you're cruising up and down Main Street like you are doing - you can't honk. You can cruise. But you can't honk." . . .

"Why not," I asked? . . .

"Because there's an ordinance," he explained. . . .

"What's an ordinance?" . . .

"It's the law." . . .

"I didn't know that," I replied, sheepishly, "why is there an ordinance?" . . .

"Because," Brown continued, " Chronic-horn-honking by inconsiderate little &%*#'s like you disturbs the good citizens of Holbrook who live on these peaceful streets and who pay taxes for silly civic things like my &%*#!salary. You can't honk, or I'll have to run you in." (Bud Brown was considerate to us rookie drivers). . . .

"Okay," I replied, "is that it?" I drove away, shaking my head. . . .

An ordinance! Can't honk! Run you in! Bull-hockey. . . .

The next night I won the inevitable struggle to ride "shotgun" (front passenger seat) in Butch Chavez's shiny, yellow Dodge Dart. I intended to be the coolest shotgun, ever. It was my first time in Butch's new muscle car. We were life-long friends but he was a Senior. I was only a Sophomore. I had to PROVE myself as a good shotgun rider. . . .

As we were cruising back-and-forth, up-and-down between the Dairy Queen and the Wayside, a dingy old Ford honked every time we pass by. Chavez never acknowledged the old Ford. No one seemed to know who was in that old car. . . .

"He can't honk," I announced, assured of my previous night's encounter with Police Chief Bud Brown. . . .

"What do you mean," came a question from the back seat? . . .

"He can't honk," I continued, "it's an ordinance." . . .

"What's an ordinance?" . . .

"Itís a law, you dummie. An ordinance, passed by the good citizens of Holbrook who live on these quiet streets and donít want little &%*#'s like that dingy old Ford honking all over town, all night long (I embellish)." . . .

A smart aleck teen can be loose lipped when he thinks he is right, especially when the "law" is on his side. That was me. . . .

"What're YOU gonna do about it," continued the back seat voice? . . .

"Let's TELL those crumbs," I replied, "they can't honk! It's the law." . . .

Chavez dutifully spun a 180, tires spinning a trail of black smoke, fish-tailing, to catch the dingy old Ford, pulling alongside the driver. . . .

"Stop honking at us!!!" I hollered, before I even noticed that the driver, up 'til that moment, was smiling. . . .

"What," the driver replied, with a perplexed look? . . .

"Stop honking!" I shouted with more force. . . .

"What," he repeated, furling his brow? . . .

"Stop honking at us!" I screamed, emboldened by urging from the back seat. . . .

"Why, what are you gonna DO about it," the driver asked? . . .

Further energized by more taunts & shouts from the back seat, I shrieked "I'm gonna kick your #%!, THAT's what I'm gonna do." . . .

"You and who's army," he screamed? . . .

"Don't need an army," I retorted. "I will kick your #%! myself." . . .

"Pull over and we'll see who's gonna kick whose #%!," the driver shouted, "PULL OVER!" . . .

Chavez abruptly turned off the highway and drove around in a big circle, spinning his tires in the dirt and rocks, sliding the rear end sideways, in a dramatic donut. It happened right in front of the Wayside Drive in. . . .

The dingy old Ford driver slid alongside, throwing dust, rocks and debris in every direction. . . .

Now, you and I both know that, in Holbrook, anytime there were teenagers dragging up and down Main Street there was always a big crowd at the Wayside. Excitement was always in the air. Well, I want to tell you, this night there was an extra scoop of teens at the Wayside. Everyone turned to see the commotion. "What's happening?" . . .

As the driver and I charged toward one another like a couple of rams, all I could think was "I'll give him that nasty forearm shiver Coach Spaw taught us a football practice today." I did. . . .

He had one too, and gave it to me. Ouch. . . .

In a flash the driver and I were rolling around on the ground, swinging, kicking, and cussing. Somehow, in the melee, I managed to toss him up on the hood of his car. I looked up and then realized it was a kid from one of my classes! . . .

"Oh, %&!#!," I said under my breath, "I'm tussling with someone I KNOW! . . . what the heck am I doing?" . . .

About that time, my new mortal enemy slid down off the hood of his car, caught my pants with his shoe buckle and "BING," the button on my pants tore off, the zipper flew open, and my pants fell straight down to my ankles!

There I was, stranded, in my glorious boxers, "stage center," in a crowd of HHS students . . . with my pants down! . . .

About that time the red lights showed up. Bud Brown stepped out of his patrol car, took one look at me and, before I knew it, I was home. Bud listened intently to my story. He was still chuckling when he dropped me off. . . .

The next day, an old dingy Ford full of my new enemy's bigger (much bigger) brothers showed up at my house and beat the &%*#'! out of me. . . .
Fights Posted: 08/31/2009
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The Downtowner in Holbrook was an all-time favorite place to eat. The burgers were sumptuous and the lemon-cherry cokes said we were "in-the-know (not necessarily cool, but connected)." The owner, Mr. Gibbons, was the nicest man on earth. He Occasionally favored good behavior and achievement with freebies. The first time he paid my tab, I was floored. Best of all, he explained the reason why. I don't remember what I had done to earn the reward, but it blew me up like a big frog. I'll have another lemon-cherry coke. Gotta love Mr. Gibbons!
Places To Eat Posted: 08/04/2009
John Savage, Math Teacher, and his stories of his times and fights in the Navy. Also the incidents where he threw items (a softball?) across the room at people he thought were cheating or acting out in other way. I learned to love math from his teaching
Teachers Posted: 08/05/2009
The Biology teacher, Mr. Brisco? I may have name incorrect but I recall an incident where I walking down the busy hallway between classes. Thinking the person ahead of me was a classmate, I slapped the person on the back and all but dropped them to the floor. Much to my surprise, the person was not my classmate but was the Biology teacher, Mr. Brisco!
Teachers Posted: 08/05/2009

Reunions and Holbrook High School News

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September 20-21, 2013. Class of 1963 event! 50-Year class reunion to be held in Holbrook. Contact Rick Rupkey, Marion Ledfors-Anderson or me for details. Welcome home, HHS Roadrunner Class of '63!
Posted: 04/14/2013

More 1963 alumni from Holbrook HS have posted profiles on Classmates.com®. Click here to register for free at Classmates.com® and view other 1963 alumni.

 

The Holbrook High class of '63 alumni are listed below. These are former students from Holbrook in Holbrook, AZ who graduated in 1963. Alumni listings below have either been searched for or they registered as members of this directory.

While you are reminiscing about the times you spent in high school at Holbrook High School, you should also check out alumni photos, yearbook listings and share any reunion info if possible.