Another one bites the dust
Well, that title is maybe not too nice to start with as it refers to the death of an old woman who happened to be a classmate of mine in 1954. It is just ironic that she is the second of my contemporaries to leave this vale of tears in the last three months.
We had a few things in common in that her dad drove the bus that picked me up and took me to grade school. We had Algebra class and gym together when I was a freshman in Liberty Union High School.
During that Algebra class which she excelled in and I was in danger of not passing without tutoring, we were all criticized by the teacher.
Since he made another classmate cry over criticism I chose to laugh in this face.
When my friend Joyce complimented me later in gym class I said that it was a case of either laughing or crying, so I chose to laugh.
This friend, even though she was a whizz at math was not so wise in biology and dropped out to get married before she graduated. I always felt a bit of superiority for that as she was so much of a scholar, but evidently had deeper issues that only sex could cure.
Later on in her life, after bearing a few children, helping her husband run his business she was effectually dumped by her philandering husband.
Back to school she went and finished her high school education and then on to college for a business degree.
This led to jobs with Chevron and a stint overseas.
I was reconnected to her life when we both were volunteering at a local museum.
There I learned that she had traveled to Kazakhstan to do the payroll for Chevron oil field workers.
We compared travel notes and how we found life in Tibet as a tourist and Kazakhstan as a payroll clerk.
She bought a house in a gated community in California and I bought a really old, really small house in Western state New York. I wonder how many girls from the Class of 1957 had such adventures?