Thursday, July 23, 2009

The All-Class Reunion - Saturday and beyond

Here we are again in Malta for the rest of our pictorial tour from the All-Class reunion. Here is the "Old Gym". This is all that remains from the fire of 1996 that destroyed the original hallowed halls of Malta High School. It was the best gym on the Hi-line. You walked in, then up stairs and looked down on the floor. Although it wasn't dug out, it was nicknamed the pit because of the way the stands were situated. I may be wrong (which is extremely seldom) but I believe that Malta still has the all-state record for most consecutive wins in boys basketball at something like 53. Someone check on that for me.

The new high school. It doesn't have the charm of the old one but it is a nice facility. I'm against the amount of taxes this cost and the dumb asses who voted for this option but the kids like it.

Those are STATE CHAMPIONSHIP banners baby! Twenty-two of them. Some have multiple championships on them so I think the amount of titles was 31. We didn't begin our dominance until the mid 60's so that means a championship in something 3 out of every 4 years. This from a town of 2500 people. I think it's safe to say that we tend to be competitive athletically. Competitive? We kick ass! I don't think Chinook has beat us in anything since the class of 1982 lost in football for the first time in like 800 years. Losers.

No comment is necessary.

Len, Jim and I decided to stop in the Stockman for a quiet beer before going to Delmer's to have more beer and visit. I was honestly shocked that no one else was in there. I mean, it was 8 in the morning and everything. What do people do in this town anymore? Actually it was 1:30 which is even more pathetic.

This is the first house I ever owned. The handicapped ramp was added by the new owners and the siding is new. There is more than one Saturday night where that ramp would have come in real handy, what with that massive staircase to climb and everything. The current owners have really dressed up the old place.

The house I grew up in. My brother Bill and I would sit in the screen porch and drink Kool-Aid and read comic books. We'd play kick-the-can and football in the front yard. What a great house. I threw a snowball at my sister Scooch. It broke a storm window in the dining room. That's because she was standing in the dining room and I was outside. Anyway, we had like another six storm windows in the garage but none would fit. This house was built in like 1920 and each window was different. So I took a wrench and knocked all the glass out so it wouldn't look like it was broken, just nice and clean. No one noticed for three weeks Mom (to my dad) "Walt, there's no glass in this storm window." Dad " There was when I put it up." My mom actually thought it was funny and never grounded me. Dad didn't think it was funny and didn't give me an allowance for three weeks. Hat tip to Scooch for not ratting me out.

Now, if you weren't a tight ass, like my brother Bill, and if you paid to register for the reunion you had dinner Saturday night. Pitchfork fondue and fried walleye, all you could eat. If you come home more than once a year, like I do, and stay in touch with folks, you can sneak around to the back where the cooking is, shake some hands, say some "how ya doins?" and you don't have to stand in line for 30 damn minutes.
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Lining up to go to the Villa Theatre. The movie was free to PAID reunion goers. "Up" was playing for the curious minded who might want to know.

A town of 2500 people fed 1000 on Saturday night. Very impressive.

That's MRM with Nancy and Laura. They are obviously near sighted or I have a serious case of the kervorka.

Doyle (L) and yours truly . Doyle and I went to St. Mary's though he was in brother Bill's class. Doyle made a claim that it was he who shot Scoutmaster Brumley in the face with a bb gun and then swam the Milk to get away. He said it was Jimmy who stayed behind and got caught. Jimmy says that he, not Doyle, was the trigger man and that Doyle couldn't swim and stunk out Jimmy. Suffice it to say that neither of them made Eagle Scout.

The Stockman 11 hours later. I couldn't get everyone to stop moving but my best guess is (from left to right)........................................

Bill and I share many things in common and our love of bacon certainly is one of them.

Me, niece Sammie and nephew Spencer. Hmmmmm. I wonder where they could have found all the Bobcat gear? Spencer "Uncle Chip, uh, what are you wearing to Grandma's?" Me "I'm wearing what I have on." Spence "MOM! I need my new shorts and some Bobcat stuff!" Sammi "Me too!" Niece Sydnie (Sammie's twin) wasn't feeling well and stayed home with brother Pat. I should have just photoshopped her in but don't have the skills.

Just having some breakfast with family and friends. That is what life is all about. The mound of bacon has been reduced to just a few strips, none of which would remain behind.

"Sammie, what are you going to eat at Grandma's?" "Waffles and PIG!"

Well, that about wraps it up. Just typing captions has given me some ideas for stories that need to be told. Its been a long time since we've had any "Tales from the Hi-Line". I also have about 145 pictures from LBOH 20 to sort through and get posted. I'll have to get after that.
The all-class was a great time and the people in charge did a great job scheduling and executing. The weather was perfect and I got to see my old wrestling coach. I walked the streets home each night with a smile on my face. I just love this town!


moi said...

Bacon unites the world, doesn't it? Looks like you went to school in a fine, fine place. The Spousal Unit and I adore Montana and flirt with moving there on occasion. Then comments like the one you made last post that you just put up your snow shovel three weeks ago make us rethink our strategy. Great place to visit, though, and the best fishing EVER.

Milk River Madman said...


Come to Montana!!! Don't let the snow bother you for Pete's sake! BTW, Bozeman is less than an hour from THREE blue ribbon trout streams. Three! We need more people like you here and less like all the Californicators who show up.