Thoughts of 1955 - By Kit
Written by Harmony Carrigan
Everybody said it was a queer graduation gift.
I was just finishing Harvard Law School with the class of 1955, and wondering where in the world I'd find the money to set myself up in an office in style. I decided to take a short break at home in Chattanooga, Tennessee, when what should arrive but a registered letter containing two checks and a brief note. The fat, fat check could be cashed only on one condition -- that I locate all my Chattanooga class-mates from elementary school 10 years ago and submit a written report of their whereabouts in not less than 30 days from graduation. The other check was to be cashed immediately and used for expenses.
He called his wife, the former Jayce Gilbert, to see if she would like to go too, but she was having a reception the next day for that brilliant doctor, who came to address the medical students, Dr. Arthur Henry Adams. She told John she was just too excited to leave -- that she had at the last minute been able to persuade the famous radio television pianist, Phila Crane, and the noted swing and sway singer, Mary Lou Ashworth, to give a program. This seemed pretty important to her, so we decided to let her have her reception.
Well -- maybe this won't be such a hard job after all -- five of my classmates accounted for so far and we haven't even started. The rest of our class-mates surely had traveled across the country, settled, and made a name for themselves elsewhere. We decided a plane would be our quickest bet, so with hurriedly packed bags, we hailed a cab for the air port. We instructed the driver to hurry! No sooner had he obeyed our instructions, we heard the shrill siren of the State Cop who had just emerged from the bushes and had started on our trail.
"Pull over there!", he shouted at us.
John and I looked at each other, is that who we think it is? -- Why, yes, we were right -- It was Dan Whitaker's face, as well as his voice. He seemed so glad to see us and kindly offered to escort us to the air port when we told him of our mission. Good old Dan!
We were breezing along, well past the set speed limit of 90, when POW! The left rear tire suddenly blew out! Lucky for us, we were in the middle lane of that six lane highway and safely coasted off the highway on to a small road. Our driver called the Highway Cab Office over his car radio telephone once we had pulled off to the side of the road. He informed us it would be 10 minutes before we could go on, if we would like get out of the cab to shake our jolted joints.We decided to step back over to the highway and have a Bridgman Cooler at the small restaurant -- As we walk up to the entrance, who do we see? -- Why, it was old Bob Lawrence stumbling out of this popular drink, looking for an empty bottle. Before we finished our refreshments and headed back to the cab, the owner of the restaurant walked in. Her face seemed familiar -- But no -- It couldn't be -- She was too much on the plump side -- But, yes, she came over with...
"Why if it isn't old Kit and John. How are you? What are you doing now? Where are you going?"
Yes -- It was Emma Tucker , all right -- And did she have news for us!! She said we would just have to go to Ooltewah and see the new six ring circus that Jimmy Matheny had ready for a world tour. It was simply marvelous. His star trapeze performer was none other than little Clara Burger -- Jo Anne Woodward directed a monkey orchestra -- the first of its kind. Norman Hoffman was Jimmy's business manager and we would see him in the ticket booth -- Oh, and Leon Sutton was his animal trainer, training them with the sweet music from his guitar -- and we would never guess who had sent in all the animals for the show -- David Johnson and Willie Ann Woods. We were both amazed. We would never have guessed these kids would have gone into such a business together. Amazing!
The postman arrived while we -- I mean, Emma Tucker was talking. I happened to see that he brought her invitations from Janette Caste and Joane Smith to attend their graduation from Bob Jones College. So that's where they were!
John tapped me on the shoulder to let me know that our cab was calling us -- Oh! Boy -- Things are really happening for me! We hurried to our cab and we were pulling up in front of the air port before we knew it! As we came to a stop, why -- There was Azell Cheek taking reservations! We talked briefly as we unloaded the cab and she asked if we knew her old friend Jesslyn Rowell had just been added to Greenwood faculty.
We said our goodbyes to Azell and the cab driver and went inside the air port only to discover that we would have to wait an hour for a plane, I thought this might be a good time to get that long needed haircut -- But once I got to the air port barber, I decided against it when I saw the barber was J.E. Statham -- We had a good long talk. It was great catching up with him!
Finally our plane was just about ready for boarding. While our plane was warming up, we discovered that our pilot on this flight would be Eddie McClanahan. We loaded our luggage onto the plane and climbed the stairs into the cabin. I went to my seat, unfolded my news paper, and there on the front page was a poem "Ten Years Since The Disappearance of Japan" by Doris Collough.
"Why -- Do you know what, John? We have found out the whereabouts of every one but Patty."
"It's just as well," Sighed John, "I just happened to think, I left my new detector machine at home!"
"Oh, my!", Thought I, "Well, just one more to go!"
I stretched out and got comfortable in my seat. Slowly drifting off to sleep before the plane has even taken off.
"Wake up -- Wake up."
I opened my eyes. Why, it's Patty Vanouver, the plane hostess.
Everything then began to fade away. Fade away. Fade away.
"Kit, Kit -- Wake up -- You will have to hurry, if you want to finish writing that class prophecy to night!"
I'm jolted awake once again. I looked down at my paper. This isn't my news paper, but an assignment. Class prophecy! And I haven't even gotten a single word written yet. Maybe if I just close my eyes for a moment, I can think of where to begin.
