My memories are of Sister John Francis, sliding on the snow mounds at recess, bomb threats, poor Susan Marquardt who was terrorized by that shitty little cabal - I won't name the guilty. There was that one nun who taught math in eighth grade who had that big wart and when she would turn to write on the blackboard, a thousand spit balls would be shot at her back. She would be covered with them by the end of the class. I remember when Kennedy got shot and all the girls were crying and the boys trying not to. And those god awful Friday masses, especially when Monsignor Colbert, would preach and everyone was asleep in minutes. Do you remember sonic booms? And duck and cover? The Boulevard theater, the sliding hills on the Parkway? I loved it all.

I'm sorry

for anything I might have done

or said

I was raised Catholic

looking forward to next time

when I can complete the task

is that a poem, Tim?

I'm with Lora, I would love to see an annual Happy Hour! Peter

Would the committtee ever be willing to pick a Happy Hour spot for next year as a way to keep all these good feelings going. I never made it to Houlihans, but maybe we do a same time next year event?

Thanks

Lora Stege Koppel

I must add my deeply felt gratitude to all of you on the committee who pulled this together.  Kate, Mike, Jeannie, Kevin and all the rest who gave so much for someone who was not even sure attending would be in my best interests.  

Seeing Jeannie Hartle again triggered another subteranean memory.  It was during Lent, when if you attended Mass, you were allowed to eat your breakfast in class.  Getting to class ON TIME was such a hopeless thrash, earlier for Mass was truly a Bridge To Far.  Watching Jeannie delicately eating her Individual Cute Little Cereal portion was so amazing,... the Poise,... the Panache!!!  Me, still working the last gelatinous lump of Zoom Farina cereal out of my molars.  I have never seen that cereal in the stores since, but  I haven't checked the Construction Materials Section of Home Depot either.

Kate, Nancy Zilka and I went on a tour of the school during the evening.  I just had to see the little bathroom on the 3rd floor, where I would go in the stall and just cry my eyes out.  It has figured prominently in my memories of grade school.  I tripped in, and found my corner of sorrow had been replaced by,.... 3 tiny urinals !!  

It was too perfect!!  And laid to rest all my past angst.

Thank you so much for all your efforts on this night.  I feel I owe some sort of Exorcism Rites Fees to the Committee!

As odd as it might seem, I will be forever grateful to the organizers for putting together this reunion even though I was unable to attend!  The stories, photos and emails have been priceless.  Thank you so much!

Mike

Thank you so much to the Reunion Committee! The evening was wonderful. It was great to catch up with classmates and reunite with many whom I hadn't seen in years (50!) Your hard work is greatly appreciated!!! Mike asked me to post the email I received and shared that evening from Ms Murphy. I reconnected with her through school conferences but more recently through a mutual friend. She had hoped to attend the reunion but was unable to so she emailed me the following message to share that evening. I hope to get together with her soon so if you have any personal messages to relay to her just send them to me. Thanks again for the great evening, wonderful memories and friends.  Mary 

 Dear Annunciation Class of 1969,

                      

When I asked Mary to give my apology for not joining you, in somewhat typical teacher fashion, she gave the assignment back and made it a written one!

I appreciate being invited and am sorry to miss greeting each of you in person.

Browsing through pictures and stories on the website, like many of you, I was surprised at what and whom I remembered and didn't remember.

Recognizing you in your "classmate" photos when you were 13 may be easier than identifying you today, especially if our paths have not crossed.

Little ripples of nostalgia appeared at the sight of family names, many of which were repeated on class lists as younger siblings sat at the same desks.

Congratulations on your personal and professional accomplishments and successes.

It's quite a stretch to picture the 13 year old youths with grandchildren, but nevertheless a good and enjoyable exercise.

Special thanks to the reunion committee for doing such an outstanding job.

And thanks, Mary, for taking on the oral part of this presentation.

I would like to second Tim Preiss’s big thank you to the classmates who put this event together. You may not realize how emotionally valuable it was to many of us to reconnect with former classmates even briefly, in person, on this website, and via email.  Due to your efforts, I learned a great deal about our lives together from 1961-1969 and — really! — about life in general. And I’m not alone in this.  You organizers may not realize how much you’ve done for many of us. As I mentioned to one of our classmates in an email message, at the reunion I felt a particular kinship to the organizers. At first I thought this might be because the organizers were going out of their way to be gracious hosts. I soon realized, however, that the qualities I liked so much in the organizers were the qualities that made them capable of pulling this off — energy, intelligence, steadiness, and a wise, inclusive perspective on the past. Thank you again. And unlike Tim, who wishes he had arrived earlier, I wish I had stayed longer. My wife insisted she was enjoying herself, but she would say that regardless, and I didn’t want to test her patience. So after 3 hours we snuck out. There are so many people — Tim Nolan, Greg Pietig, Sally Ferguson, Jeanne Hartle, Katie Perrier, Anna Marie Larkin, Mark Melody, others!, with whom I’d have liked to talk more. And some of these people I basically never spoke with in grade school!

I just wanted to send a big thank you to the Reunion Committee for getting the reunion organized. It was so much fun to see everyone , even though we were late getting there, the time we had talking with people that I will always consider friends was great. I only wish we had been there at the beginning so we could have spent more time talking with more classmates about the old days and catching up with all the years that have past. The conversations we had that evening made me regret not staying in touch with these great people. I was glad to find out that I am not the only one that has not been swept up in social media. I am undecided if that is good or bad, but for now I will leave it to Pam to keep me filled in. I really enjoyed reading everyones stories of memories. Since my memory has been fading over the years, it was a great help to read the stories. It help bring back some of the memories that had started to fade. There are some memories that have always been there, such as playing on the snow piles in the playground/parking lot. Delivering text books to classrooms one summer, I still have the old coins that the sister paid me with. I also remember, as Barb Roach mentioned, working in the school store on the lower floor. Playing floor hockey at night with Mr. Bonine and the guys down in gym. Going to the soda fountain counter at Salk Drug to get treats. The time someone, I don't remember who, placed a thumb tack on Miss Murphy's chair. My first crush. The day President Kennedy was shot. I think and hope these memories will always be there as will some others that are not as complete. In closing, I want to thank everyone for organizing the reunion and I hope that some way are paths will cross again.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 Tim and Pam Preiss

Lisa, I wish I had seen your post before we left for the reunion, as I would have definitely made more of an effort to connect with you but I felt a bit of tension, was it in my head or real?  In regards to the story about the new black neighbors this surprised me, as I didn’t feel those insensitivities until high school and was appalled when they surfaced.  This was another bit of irony with the teachings of our church.  I too have been labeled as you put it " Liberal, Socialist, Atheist, Communist"  maybe not in that order or all at once.  Hang in there from another ‘shy’ but outspoken person.

Katie, I also remembered the talented voices in your family.  I had forgotten about your rendition of “Danny Boy” until my memory was jogged, you were such a quiet girl until you opened your mouth and sang, wow!  One of my daughters has that gift as well.  I did remember your Dad though, am I correct, he sang at church?

Anna Marie, I hope you took no offense to my calling you crazy more than once on Saturday, but you gave me a happy feeling inside seeing you all grown up.  In school, I remember your laugh, you were never afraid of laughing out loud and I believe you did it a lot.  You never seemed to care what others might think and in my eyes you were very, very brave; not being afraid to speak out.  It sounds like early on you were very adventurous hitching and traveling; our youngest daughter did the road trip thing as well, straight out of high school.  Scared me, but was so happy she took the chance/adventure and she came home safe.

Mary, so glad we got to touch base, I didn’t find you on Facebook like I thought, (there’s that memory thing again) so I will hunt for your phone number.  A lot of my memories with you are mixed in with our high school days.

I’ve gone on too long, so I can’t mention all the names and first crushes of my old classmates that I saw on Saturday; only wishing I could have seen more of you.

Lastly here is the bio part:  David (an actor/director, etc…) and I have been married for 42 years, as I see many others have as well.  (The whole to death do we part thing…)  We have three children, our son Topher is 37 and teaches at Akagi Jiu-Jitsu in Bloomington.  MyLeah is 32 and is an attorney.  Our baby, Chedae is 27 and is a red headed hippie at heart and works in retail.  We have a total of 5 grandchildren so far.  I had opened a dance studio in Lakeville in ‘78 before having children, it was called “The Dance Place.”  David and two others started a children’s theatre called Giant Step Theatre, I did the choreography.  We moved back to Mpls in ‘89, Powder Horn Park Area for about 10 years, I taught dance at the Pillsbury House for a few seasons.  Then we finally, moved north to Ogilvie to an 8.5 acre fixer upper hobby farm twenty years ago. (Which is still being fixed up!) We have had a wide array of animals from sheep, pigs, guineas, etc., to the American Shetland ponies we raise. I was encouraged to open another dance studio in the small town of Braham, but had to close it in 2014 due to the building having been sold.  David and I still run a theatre program in Andover every winter through Giant Step, for guess what age, sixth thru eighth graders. 

Oh, and one more thing; Jim and I are not twins.  He is a year and a half older than I am.

Live long and prosper to you all…     Cheryl Picha Braddock

Hi All, First off; I would like to thank the reunion committee for all their efforts in planning and putting together our 50 year reunion. 

In the past I did not believe in participating with reunions, but this year I looked at it with a different perspective.  Reading all of the stories being posted on the website brought back so, so many memories, many of which I only remembered after reading; so thanks to all of you who submitted a post!

As some of you heard, one of the reasons I attended was that we had just lost our 12 year old grandson this June after a two year plus fight with the discovery of his brain tumor; a Glioblastoma, deadly brain cancer.  He had four surgeries and recovered after each with the best attitude the doctors said they had ever seen.  Grey would have started 8th grade this year.  After the reunion on Saturday night I remember dreaming and getting the answer I was looking for… but ironically upon waking, as usual, I forgot what it was; which brings me to my next reflection.

In 1979 I had a severe car accident with a semi-truck on Highway 13 in Burnsville.  My physical injuries were not bad but I was told I had a serious concussion.  I lost much memory; especially a total loss just before and after the accident.  The hospital stories I was told afterwards by family and others about my behavior while in the hospital were many and quite hilarious, who was to ever guess there was a natural comedian hiding somewhere inside of me.  (We’ve fondly referred to those times as my crazy days).  After about a year, things came back to me and I went back to being reserved and Normal??  So, if I spoke with you during the reunion and I seemed a bit off, I came by that somewhat honestly.

This brings me to Jackie, my first best friend.  I honestly did not remember a fight we had way back then, but I had sensed a weird feeling after finding you over the internet many years ago and then never actually making contact with you.  In reading your bio about transferring to Washburn, I am baffled as to why we never reconnected then?  Hoping I wasn’t horribly unkind back then, as I find we humans can be so insensitive to each other.  When seeing you on Saturday I was flooded with many great childhood memories of our friendship and your family; especially fond memories of your Dad as he was such a kind and funny man.

This brings me back to my Catholic schooling which I believe was good and bad.  The cruelty of children growing up; we can be so sweet and yet at times so devilish.  I apologize to any of my fellow students that I may have bullied (as I really don’t remember if I was a part of some of that bullying that went on with the various groups).  The memories so many of you posted about; the nuns, lay teachers and student antics brought back so much for me, again thanks.  I/we were fortunate to be able to homeschool our three children, but while I began to do the religious part of our curriculum, I realized I could not continue passing down the same lessons and stories I had been told.  We instead studied about the importance of truth versus lying, and etc….

Very interesting to read all the fond memories of those grade school years.  Mine were in such direct opposition, I wonder if we were even on the same planet, let alone on the same play ground. (If you can call a bare, wind-swept parking lot "playground".)

Rita and I used to comb the parking lot for little "treasures" that we kept in small boxes. "Why?", I have NO idea.  

I was awed by Katie Perrier getting up to sing "DannyBoy" in front of the whole school, beautiful enough to break your heart.  But what was most awesome to me was just the raw courage that it must have taken!

I remember Cathy Cruit giving me a "Friendship" ring.  Her friendship is something that I still treasure to this day, along with Katie Perrier.  

Recalling my own science project, which was a demonstration of how dams worked, is still bright in my cranium.  Mr. Bonine set it up on Mike Waterston's desk, but the execution of the demonstration went rather wrong and all the water I used went pouring into his desk.  I still remember his stoney glare, as everything got saturated.  Sorry Mike!!  Horrifying then, hilarious now.  I will bring some grocery bags and recover those books for you.

On the downside,  I never really felt much connection to most of my classmates.  Some of it attributed to Delehanty's reasoning that were on the other side of the freeway, and remote from establishing deeper relationships.

I did feel bullied at school and came home to more of the same there, parents indifferent and perhaps overwhelmed themselves.  Thus, home life was more "Lord of the Flies". and less "The Walton's".  But I have been able to create my own sense of Happiness, as we all must.

Ahh yes, and the Catholic Church itself.  I remember standing in the Dairy section of Red Owl with my Mom, as the Manager picked through the broken and cracked eggs to give the sisters.  I forgot my lunch one day and was sent over to the convent for a sandwich. This was May, and the Sister pulled out a batch of Christmas cookies from the freezer.  I came from a house were food was at a premium, and baked goods unheard of.  I absolutely goggled at the sight of them!!

I remeber the parishioners would buy the priests a new Cadillac (was it yearly?), and the 2 of them lived in that house with a full time housekeeper.  Meanwhile, the nuns, having taken the Vow of Poverty, were squeezed like kipper snacks in oil in the convent.

That and when the first black family moved in across the street from us, Monsignor paid my Dad a visit to reassure him that the Parish was "working" on fixing that.  Never mind that that family was wealthier than anyone else.  The neighborhood Garden club decided then too that membership should close.

All of these things have shaped my perspective, to the point where my surgeons at work refer to me as that " Liberal Socialist Atheist Communist". Nevermind that there are philosophical incompatabitlities here, when they say it it makes it sound like a Bad Thing!!

Might see you tonight.   Lisa Grage Citak

Rick, I vote for current self with as much or little make-up as comfy. And I vote for you moving around the room filling awkward silences as needed. Any hayseeds remaining  in your cuffs will have sneaked past USDA exotic-hayseed-sniffing dogs in the vicinity of airport customs and should be returned to Australia. I look forward to tomorrow’s gathering. 

I am so incredibly grateful for the blessing of attending Annunciation with all of you. I have wonderful memories and they are still vivid. I remember Miguel Contreras comimg in 1st grade and felt so worldly to know someone from another country. (I now teach English to students who are new to country). The smell and warm feeling of the newly printed purple ink of the mimeograph papers still make me smile.

My heart was also broken in 2nd grade when Mrs. Hackenmuller got married. She was replaced by Mrs. James who brought a baby goat to school. We took turns watching it during the day in the grassy fenced area of the 7th & 8th grade section. Being chosen to clap the chalk out of the erasers outside against the brick wall was a real priveledge. Thank God for the priests garage doors to give us a place to play "squish squash applesauce" against, to save us from freezing during recess. I apologize to Tim Nolan for chasing him around the playground on several occasions, I think I wanted to kiss him.

I remember sitting in my desk in Mrs. Reddings 3rd grade class when the Principle announced President Kennedy's assination, collecting money to send to the Pagans, and endlessly collecting and tying bundles of newspapers for the paperdrive so our class could win. Do we all know how lucky we were to have the snow mounds to play on during recess? We were a generation free to do so much playing on our own outside.

Pride and privilege were feelings to describe being the first 4th grade class to have school in the basement of our new church. Going to mass in the morning allowed us the privilege of breakfast at school and getting a carton of milk out of the tiny fridge in the closet with the folding door. I remember memorizing my report on Saudi Arabia I did with Jackie Ivers who I loved dearly as a friend. I remember being so frustrated not being able to understand how to do long division that I cried in class. I wished I could use crutches like Mimi Murphy had after her knee surgery, but felt sorry for her pain and that she could not play kickball with us and could only watch. Through it all, I remember her constant smile and good sense of humor.

5th grade things started getting fun. I had a blast sitting next to Schoenecker and Denman who taught me how to take the ink cartrigde out of a Bic pen and shoot spit balls toward the front of the room while acting studiously innocent. Petty pants were the fashon rage with girls, and I still couldn't process math taught by Mrs. Turge as fast as she explained it. I also remember Jackie Ivers's long thick braided pony tail and how amazing it was to see how long and beautiful her hair was the few times she wore it down.

I remember Sister James in 6th grade, having just sprinted up the stairs, flying into the room, habit flying behind her, red faced, and simultaneously screaming at us and pounding her fist down on the podium. She said she could hear us down on the lower floors being too loud. YIKES! Again, I so enjoyed sitting by the boys in the back of the class enjoying their pranks - you all made school so fun. I appreciate your creativity and bravery. I was too chicken to do much wrong, but I sure enjoyed the entertainment you provided! Peter Healy really got a cool ,"Six finger, six finger, man alive, how could I ever get along with five" toy. Mike Waterston had me crushing on him. Mary Schoenert was the fashion Queen with the white GoGo Boots, and we finally got some clout in the school being hall monitors. Slumber parties were fun and who was it that stayed up all night and put shaving cream on someones face? Thanks for the surprise birthday party, even if someone told me about it ahead of time. It meant alot.

I too remember being in awe of the commerial milk dispensr at Mary Herdegen's house, as well as her artistic talents and wit.

I'm grateful for the great music experiences Annunciation afforded us: Making a recording for the Music teachers (Ms.Phillips?) Husband who was in Viet Nam, singing in the choir for church, St. Patricks day programs, performing a song and dance routine with Mary Kay and another girl for another performance, and for all the Christmas songs we were allowed to sing in school.

I remember Ms Murphy making us memorize the preamble to the constitution. Mr. Bodine and our science fair presentation complete with a model of a heart I hand painted, and Sister Luetta having us memorize a poem. I chose "If" by Rudyard Kipling. I'm so grateful for the quality education we recieved and the discipline and values Annunciation instilled in us. (I do remember some boys getting their ears pulled, or hair on the back of their necks pulled, and I'm sorry for them having to endure it)

7th and 8th grade gave us Basketball tournaments that were so thrilling. I signed up to play guitar and sing during halftime. Then got so nervous I tried to convince the teacher I was going to throw up to get out of it but, no go, I still had to perform.

I will always remember Katie Perrier coming back from lunch, in the winter, with her face scarlet from the cold and thinking how unfair it was to make her walk so far home for lunch. God Bless you girl.

That's also when "hanging out" to talk and have fun after school grew into football at the Flats, my first kiss in the woods with David Murphy (who had the most beautiful eyes in the world), slow dancing at Jeanie Hartel's basement to "Hey Jude" with David Murphy, endless hours talking with Mary Ghizoni (Laughing untill we literall were rolling on the ground) and Jeannie Krieger who was always so much smarter than I was,(sorry for TP'ing your house), pizza party over nights with Theresa Davis, who turned me on to Barbra Striesand, and walking home with those on the south side.

My heart goes out to all of you, even those not mentioned for you were all my family for 8 years. You all were noticed and admired for some quality you had. Many had great talent and smarts, humor, leadership, but I remember those who showed grace, patience, humility, courage, kindness, tolerance, who were often reserved and quiet yet a wonderful example. Love each of you. Thanks for the memories.

I have memories of fun and intrigue on the playground. Fun: playing dodgeball - loved it- and kickball and just hanging out with my friends. Mary Schneider, Mary Pedric, Patty Lawrow, Minnow Walsh, Barb Roach and others. Intrigue:sharing the almost forbidden miniature catechism booklets that clarified in detail what exactly was a venial and mortal sin. I think kissing might have been borderline- and gasping at the other forbidden acts.

Mostly I remember a welcoming safe community and felt- and still feel- I was so lucky to grow up being a part of it (along with my 6 younger brothers and sisters!). 

Don't think I’ll ever forget the monring I was supposed to present my science project on evolution for Mr. Bodine's 7th grade science class. I had become fascinated with Darwin's theory of evolution and had stayed up til 2 in the morning the night before finishing the drawings and cutting out the figures for the animal species for each era and painstakingly pasting them to my tri-fold poster.  I had finished it , but was so nervous about presenting it that I vomited and had to stay home from school. Finally presented it the next day and seemed to go OK....it was the first clue to my parents that I was an ubernerd in the making. the project was also prescient, as after medical school  I went on to obtain a degree in Epidemiology and Public health, conducted studies of the natural history of cognitive impairment (dementia) and its risk factors, and still continue that work today.  Am thankful for Mr. Bodine's understanding and support of my passion for exploring evolution!

Also remember Sr. John Francis (? 6th grade) having a good sense of humor. for the 'News hour' she even put up with me presenting an ad for "Roto Rooter' instead of real news.

Very excited and looking forward to seeing some at the Happy Hour tonight, as not sure I'll be able to get there for Sat's reunion as I'm attending a wedding that evening- but will try. 

Individually, we’ll need to decide which version of ourself we should be. That 1960s self that doesn’t and never existed or some current version with or without makeup. Should we hug or shake hands? Talk about our lives or ask about others? Will there be dull silence that I’ve always awkwardly filled? I thnk I will just be the new kid again and keep my mouth shut and brush hay seeds off my cuffs. 

I don’t like that word, project.

It reminds me of grade school.

The tag board and magic markers,

the dangers of smoking or

The arrangement of the solar system.

The project was always such a big

Thing to do—it would hang over me

for weeks and weeks.

Then, at the last possible moment,

in a panic of scissors and glue,

I would cut and paste and make

some headline.  It was all

So sad.  It turns out my next project,

the one I’ve been worrying about, 

The one that has taken

all of my attention, is this—

I mean this poem—which was

easy to start—

And even easier—it turns out—

to finish up.

Minnow, I definitely remember “Squish squash applesauce” on the playground when it was cold! And the Wart comments to Sr Cyrillus. Hard to believe we kids could be so cruel...

I also remember kids bringing breakfast to school after daily Mass in Lent, when you couldn’t eat for three hours before Communion. I have this distinct memory of Patty Lawrow across the aisle from me in maybe third grade, with a small thermos of hot cocoa and cinnamon toast for her breakfast!

I think maybe in sixth grade, the boys got to be Patrol boys, with flags to stop traffic for kids walking to school. In that era, it was not a position that girls could do. Instead we were hall monitors, keeping kids in line going up the stairs after the morning bell or recess. Or being posted at the water fountain in the hall to keep people from stopping for a drink when they came in thirsty from the playground (isn’t that what drinking fountains were for?!!) I guess the teachers didn’t want the lines to be held up. 

I remember in some grade (maybe seventh or eighth) working in the school store during lunch occasionally, and having to get the hang of making change for kids buying pens, markers and lined notebook paper.  Did they also sell candy at the store? I seem to have a dim memory of that. 

Steve S,

Thank you for mentioning Greg Nelson.  I’m sure many others appreciated that you mentioned him as well.  I long ago had heard of his struggles, and have wondered how is is doing.  For now we will just have to continue to wonder.  As a child whenever I would see someone struggling, or hear an ambulance siren, or similar, my Mom would always say to me “there but for the grace of God go I” 

~ C 

Dan -- I have nothing but fond memories of all the time we spent together, whether it be camping in your back yard, bike rides to Lake Harriet, or just walking around the block singing Beatles songs!  I do not remember the altar boy incident to which you refer, however!  (I can't stop laughing!!!)

Tim -- we all listened to you. You were the sage of the 8th grade, the smartest, nicest, best guy in all the world!  I am forever grateful for the influence you had on my life! (BTW I'd like to know who it is in that photo who's shooting the bird?!!!!)

Mike Waterston -- remember bowling at Diamond Lake Lanes?  I often tell people how you and I could've been pro-bowlers!  

The photo (if it uploaded) is of my brothers Steve and Rob and myself (always good to have your names on your shirt!) -- Steve went to Annunciation a year ahead of us and always told me that it was a great school.  He's doing well in Wisconsin.  Rob was "relocated" before he could enjoy Annunciation, but I'm sure he would've enjoyed it like the rest of us.

There’s a webpage for our

Eighth grade reunion

And someone put up a photo

Where I’m in the corner

Of the frame wearing one of those

Green army surplus parkas

With the fake fur fringe.

We’re all standing around a campfire.

I look disconcerted. Or bored.

I have no memory of being

This person—except for a kind

Of shyness—a way of looking

Away when someone might be

Looking at me and a way 

Of speaking under my breath,

As I seem to be speaking to Ed

In the photo, and Ed seems to be

Listening to me, which I never

Remember, specifically, Ed doing.

But I might be wrong.  And I do feel

Some tenderness toward him,

Not Ed so much, as me, the guy near the fire, 

Who looked away and never quite

Figured out what might happen next.

It has been amazing reading all of these stories! Our class is incredible: college professors, physicians, poets, authors, lawyers, artists, non-profit professionals and volunteers, bakers, nurses, mechanics, business people, free-spirits and, thankfully, at least one cigar smoking woman! (and many other careers I failed to mention). I am sure that both individually and collectively we have had a very positive impact on our communities, both large and small. It makes me proud to be a member of our class! 

I would also like to mention my very close and long-time friend Greg Nelson. He was a friend to all of us and even a first kiss for some! Many years ago, Greg developed some significant mental health issues. I used to see him hanging around downtown and many of us were called by him at odd hours of the night. My heart aches for the difficult hand he has been dealt. I have no idea where he is or if he is even alive. So sad! I want to give a shout-out to Greg and hope the Lord is watching over him. 

I also want to respond to Jim Dela's memories, Dela, you were one of the nicest kids in our class, always with a smile and liked by all. You were an awesome athlete on the playground (I echo Paul H's comments about your speed and great hands) and one of the smartest students. I am saddened by some of your comments about feeeling like an outsider because none of your classmates saw you that way. You win a blue ribbon for the great memories you have posted and we all look forward to seeing you.

I would like to say something to everyone of you but can't in this forum. But, I do want to say how excited I was to read the memories of my long time great friend Gary Hirsch and also to hear from Phil Linnihan who was a close neighbor and grade school friend who I am happy to hear is doing well!

FLUNKING.

Let me start by saying that I flunked first grade. Not sure how that was possible, but I pulled it off! Maybe I smelled too many freshly printed Mimeograph sheets? The failure was delivered in a publicly humiliating way. In the end, there were 4 of us that remained seated while the “graduates” standing awaited their 2nd-grade room assignments. I remember Mike Contreras was one of the 4 “failures” seated with me. Miguel was amazing! He once showed me a round ball of brown modeling clay in the palm of his hand. He then put his other hand on top and started to work the clay. He fashioned a perfect bulls head in 90 seconds flat! It was magic! What an honor to fail with such a gifted and beautiful person!

I moved on to 2nd grade anyway because my parents did not want to hold me back.

THE AV CART.

All 8 grades were a struggle for me with few positive classroom memories. But I loved to see the AV cart roll into the room. Filmstrip? Movie? How many reels of 16mm film? AV cart days were my best days, except once in 4th grade. We all gathered on the cement in the new church basement to watch a film strip on sin, judgment, and hell. What’s not to love about that title! I was pumped! We all watched as the vinyl album was placed on the turntable and the needle dropped. A couple of crackles, a few “beeps” and we were cued up at the start. “First there was Adam and Eve in Paradise. ”BEEP.“ Eve was tempted an sinned. ”BEEP. “Now bad things happen like babies crying (photo of a baby crying with audible crying). BEEP. “And men who sin must confess their sins” (graphic drawing of a man in confessional). BEEP. “But when man does not confess his sins” (graphic drawing of a man just standing there) BEEP. “He is judged and condemned to hell!” BEEP. Man falling through the layers of the earth screaming. BEEP. Man still falling and screaming. BEEP. Man still falling and screaming as the layers of earth go by in the background. BEEP. Tips of hell’s fire at the bottom of the screen. BEEP. Man hits hells pit with a thud and screaming fades. Man presumed dead from fall and fire. This trauma was not nearly as bad as flunking 1st grade, but it was right in there. Scared the crap out of me!!! A BIG HUG for anybody who remembers that film strip!

BEST FRIENDS.

My friends saved me from believing that I was less than (even though I believed I was). Tim Nolan, my bestest and oldest friend. Pat Kenney, Pete Healy, Eddie McGrath and all the Cub Scouts. The two big protectors, Mike Dalton and Mike Duffy. Those two together were like the all-time best All-Star Wrestling Tag Team! So many more friends who accepted me just as I was when I could not. But no doubt about it, Mike Hanrahan was my best friend in grade school. Camping out in my back yard and sneaking out at 2AM to explore the Minnehaha Creek. His dad patiently trying to get me up on water skies with their speed boat (which I never accomplished). Stealing full packs of Benson and Hedges 101mm cigarettes from the wooden dispenser hanging on Mike's kitchen wall. Pull one pack out and the next one drops…no way to see that we took a pack. We’d smoke the whole pack in Mike’s garage while hiding behind the motor of the speed boat - flicking the butts out the broken window in the back of the garage. Playing with his HO train set in his basement while listening to The Beatle 65 album. His mom’s homemade ham salad sandwiches and pumpkin bread were to die for! I’m sorry that you can’t make the reunion Mike. You will be missed!

Oh, did I read a request for more Tim Nolan poems? He’s published at least 3 wonderful books! Google him! ( - ;

LAUGHING.

There nothing worse than laughing uncontrollably when you simply cannot be allowed to laugh. Like on the altar as an altar boy. Mike Hanrahan, my altar boy partner, had an amazing ability to hold a fart and drop it at just the right (or wrong) time. A favorite release spot for him was at the altar boy station where we’d prepare the water and the wine for the priests. We’d stand close together with our backs to the altar. Cruets of water and wine in hand, Mike would let it rip just as we turned to walk back to the waiting priest. A long audile fart tone released inside the alter boy cassock he was wearing. All I could think about was the fart vapor that must be coming up the cassock out the collar. OMG! Why does farting always make me laugh! Beat red and shaking from holding the laugh in while trying to pour the water and wine!!!!

Mike Duffy was also a master at evoking laughter when you cannot laugh. He sat behind me one year. When the teacher wasn’t looking, Mike would lean way forward almost touching the back of my head. He’d make a very convincing burp/vomit sound so disgusting that I had to turn and look to see if he actually barfed. All I saw was Mike cupping both hands under his mouth lapping up imaginary barf like a dog. OMG! Uncontrollable laughter as I watched him slip back into that all attentive innocent persona he was so good at. Then I’d hear it “Mr. Traun! What’s so funny Mr. Traun? Maybe you’d like to share it with the whole class!” “Oh nothing Sister (beat red).” Off to detention, I would go!

I have enjoyed the photos, memories, and stories shared – thank you everyone for taking the time to write. My memories are limited but not from a poor memory. I didn’t have the good fortune of spending 8 years at Annunciation. I arrived in the middle of 5th grade – Mrs. Turgi’s class. My fifth school in as many years – I was getting the knack of greeting new classmates from the front of the class. I remember standing in front and looking out at the kids while being introduced … and there was this kid towards the back of the class (Paul Schoenecker), shooting spit balls at us … I assumed he was aiming at Mrs. Turgi. I thought wow, I have to meet this guy! Paul became a friend as well as classmates Terry Bussen and Steve Sefton – but only after a few rounds (without gloves) just off the school property after school – not at the same time of course. I also remember my classmate Joe Burns, he had a big heart for a fifth grader, and his kindness went a long way – he offered a hand of friendship and assistance in finding my way around. Thank you Joe – I think you had figured it out long before the rest of us. 

Some of the things I remember (and don’t remember) … from the south end of the parish my closest neighborhood friends Steve Sefton, Greg Nelson, Greg Pietig, Mark Melody – and those in the immediate neighborhood: Jim and Cheryl Picha, Jackie Ivers, Mike Garten, Joan Rains, Mike Duffy, Susan Marquardt; throwing matzo balls (toilet paper rolled in rain water) at picture windows as we walked through neighborhoods (not ours of course) and being chased by irate homeowners (and the cops); the flats, our friends from the north side of the creek, the Dupont and Bryant bridges (sorry Steve, I don’t remember Molotov cocktails – when such stories came up I always pointed my finger at Kevin Hayes); and can’t forget the first kisses and the crushes; the school dances; sandlot baseball games during the summers at Windom school; floor hockey on Friday nights (and Wally and his adult friends kicking our butts!); and Annunciation baseball.

I have always looked back at that time as fun and adventurous, and am grateful for the good education as well. The good study habits and discipline were as important as the content. It served me well through high school and college. I can’t forget my spiritual heritage - being Catholic we had catechism, the Mass, and for some the opportunity to assist the priest with Mass and other special services. I confess I wasn’t the best altar boy, and whenever Schoenecker and I were paired up we knew it was going to be a tough service – all Paul had to do was point to Monsignor Colbert’s square shoes and we would both start giggling uncontrollably – so embarrassing. I remember too family and friends got a little chop in the neck with the little communion plate I held under their chins. On a serious note, my favorite season was Lent/Easter, and in particular the Stations of the Cross. I remember very well the 12th Station, Jesus Dies on the Cross. As an altar boy I stood next to the priest, holding a lit candle and staring up at Jesus on the Cross and as best I could at that age I was moved by God’s grace and enormous love for His creation, for us, and for me – He became sin who knew no sin and laid down His life for us that we may live eternally with Him. He became personal and real to me, then and even more so today.

The best part of Annunciation were the friendships – some remain to this day and are considered close friends. Others remain fond memories that for many years brought stability, camaraderie, and security when most needed. I am looking forward to seeing everyone, and for those who can’t make it you will be missed. Enjoy the autumn years, we’re at its threshold!

Thought the title might catch you!   I went to 4 schools in 4 years (7th, 8th, 9th and 10th grades), Incarnation, Annunciation, Susan B Anthony, then Washburn.   Sad to say, I get some of it mixed up with what happened where!  But reading your stories brings a lot of it back!   Moving to Annunciation from Incarnation what I remember the most was how nice everyone was and how I had immediate friends.  You made it easy for me to be a new kid at school.    What a great bunch of storytellers!  

First of all- Mary Herdegen,  I think Paul Schoenecker was my first kiss too!  and I actually just described it to a friend today as Juicy and then I read your story  - haha-  he did have great soft lips.   ( Paul, I'm not telling tales out of school, because I beilieve I told you this years ago! )    Also I remember sleeping over at your house Mary and being amazed because you had a Milk dispenser in your Kitchen!!  I thought it was the coolest thing ever, because at home we only had instant milk, which can be described as chicken milk  - ughhh and so to get cereal and add milk at your house was a revelation.   I hope this memory is truly from your house.. but let me know if I have fabricated this,  I also remember the whole point of the sleepover was to talk about boys and hope they snuck over and peeked into the windows.  

Secondly Phil Linnihan -  Oh m G as the kids say - you are funny. 

Mary Schoenert, I think the whole reason I had any cool factor at all was because I lived near you and we walked to school together!  because of that I got some credit for being  your neighbor!  And I wished desperately that i could look just like you.    I remember your Mom loving Barbra Streisand and listening to a lot of music with you, but darn I don't remember watching Dick Cavit with you, although I still love him.  Brilliant and funny guy. 

Mary Walsh your stories of Sister Cyrillus are right on.   I actually heard.. not sure if it is true that she had to retire after our class graduated.  This might have been directly because of our version of the Breakfast Club brat pack ( Hanrahan,  McGrath, Linnihan, Waterston etc.  )

I'm sorry to hear of our classmates that have passed. Nice to see them memorialized. 

I wish I could be there with you all... but I hope you have a great time.  i'll be back on this site to read more later

~ Colleen

I have enjoyed reading all of these stories! They have brought back so many memories-mostly fond ones. Jim- I loved your account of being an "east sider." I felt the same way, but to make matters worse, my parents insisted that us Schneiders walk to school! I never got to ride the bus which made me so envious of all of you. I have kept in touch with Ms Murphy through a mutual friend- I recently had lunch with her. She has a Great memory (is that good or bad?). She just retired a few years ago. I look forward to the reunion and hearing more stories!      Mary Schneider

I am absolutely amazed at the vivid memories some of you have of our years at Annunication.  Although I can "remember" most of the memories after reading your stories, I could not have come up with so many details on my own.  My years at Annunciation were memorable, don't get me wrong, but so much water has gone under the bridge since then that it's nearly impossible for me to remember so much.

I do remember generalities, however.  I remember, mostly while watching the photos stream by on the right-hand side of this page, the faces and names of almost everyone. I remember the names of the nuns, teachers and clergy that everyone has mentioned.  I remember the places, including the playground, gym, 4th grade in the new church basement, and I remember "firsts," many of which shall remain my memories and not memorialized on this story.

My clear, although fogged with age, memories of my friends brings tears of joy and pains of sorrow.  I remember the great friendships I had with Dan Traun, Pete Healy (a little later in life at Washburn HS), and the girls that I secretly admired.  I remember the teachers that made such huge impacts on me and my childhood -- Mrs Jarosch and Mr Bonine.  I remember the nuns and clergy who were strict but never mean.  And I remember the "groups" that we were separated into and which contributed to the friendships that we forged.  And mostly I remember the day that I no longer had the safety and comfort of Annunciation.

As I said before, it took me until much later in life for me to realize that my years at Annunciation were some of the best years of my life, and those days ended when I was forced to grow up and move on to Junior HS and beyond.  Some of my friends remained friends for several years, and some of them I never saw again after leaving Annunciation.  I don't mean to digress, as this story is about Annunciation, not the years after.  So, back to the story...

I remember lunch in the old church, sitting at tables eating baloney sandwiches and drinking 2 cent milk - I hated both, but it's what I had and I was happy to have it.  

I remember gym class where I always felt like I was the last one picked for any team because I was the "fat kid."  I remember the gym teacher teasing me after Thanksgivving when he said "Looks like Hanrahan ate a lot of turkey!"  Oh boy, those words hurt and have never left me.

I remember being an altar boy and sneaking the wine, but what I remember the most was the privilege of being an altar boy.  The pure joy of serving and the great fun, yes fun, it was to don the garb and perform the rituals of Mass.

I remember wanting to be the class clown because I thought it would make me more popular, but whenever I did anything that I thought was funny, I got caught and spent time in detention!   I spent a lot of time in detention.

I remember snow mounds on the playground, falling on the pavement and tearing the knees out of my pants.

I remember so much, yet so little.  I am grateful for this reunion, this website, and the stories written by all of you.   I was one of the first to sign up to attend, and I am now unable to be there.  I will miss all of you, and wish you all the best!

Mike

I remember telling Ann Hamel that I was related to Romeo and Juliet! I think the movie was at the Boulevard and we had all just seen it and swooned. I wish I could say that zinger was my only crazy claim during those years, but without doubt it wasn’t. I once told the nuns my single, divorced mother was pregnant (she wasn’t). I’m sure the convent buzzed with that news!  

What do I remember about Annunciation? Academically, I remember dissecting sentences – probably in eighth grade. I really loved to do that. I also remember Great Books (I never read the books, though I wish I had) and being caught cheating on a math test in sixth grade with Sister Marie Florence (was that her name?) She was a toughie. She warned my mother that sixth grade was the turning point, after which children either became devils or angels. I also remember art class in maybe fifth grade. I think we had a visiting teacher, vaguely hippy. I did a painting for Mary Herdegen that said “Your my best friend” and the teacher corrected me because I should have painted “You’re.”

But mostly I remember you guys. We were really lucky, don’t you think? There were all the terrible growing pains and interpersonal dustups. (I remember a kicking phase between boys and girls in fourth grade, a couple years before the kissing phase you all describe.) But, compared with kids going to Annunciation today, who I imagine are escorted to and from school by over-attentive parents, we were left on our own to hang around with friends, ride our bikes (I remember a stilt summer. I think the Pichas had stilts), and generally be what children should be: free. You all mention the very Twin Peakish “flats.” I can’t remember where that was and whether I was ever there, but it sounds like fun.

I remember smoking way too many Kool cigarettes with Colleen Larkin in my living room while watching the Dick Cavett show. I remember laughing with Mimi Frederick who was like being with a sitcom, every detail of her life was wild and fun (I recall her house being in a 24-hour-a-day uproar with about two dozen kids.) I remember Jeannie Hartle’s mother’s car. It was a MASSIVE Mercedes, an absolute tank. I remember Phil Linnihan and a couple other people coming to my house one afternoon or evening to play a Cream album. He put it on the record player (which I think is what we called them in those days) because he wanted us to hear the Ginger Baker drum solo that went on for about two years. I felt sick to my stomach by the end of it, but I’ve never forgotten it.

I remember Terri Davis being a boyfriend magnet and Ann Hamel being so smart and calm, and being the person from among our entire group who I thought would probably actually do something with herself, be someone really great. Sally Ferguson, too. She was so thoughtful, I was sure she’d be a judge or something. I remember Ann Burke doing Irish dances. She was so good. I still think of her when I see Irish dancing here. I remember Gary Hipwell being very, very funny. I think he and Gary Hirsch (who was also very funny) tried to teach Ann Hamel and me to play tennis. I’m sure Ann could do it. I was terrible. I remember a guy in our fourth-grade class named Mark Weaver. I sat next to him. He had a cigar butt in his desk and sometimes wore half a basketball on his head.  I remember Patty Lawrow being the center of everything. She was also so very, very calm (as she is today!), and so very, very smart. She appeared wise beyond her years, as if she’d done all this living before. I think she got a ring from someone, which was a real wow-wee moment for the rest of us. I remember Lora Stege (who was Lora Lee Stege in those days!) I considered her one of my best friends. She was up for any adventure, no matter how insane. (Her father looked like Paul Newman!) I remember Gail Fisher, who was my best friend when we lived on Irving for a while. We would walk home and use our sit-upons from Brownies to slide down the big hill on 54^th (I’m not sure I have this right in any way, but I’ve somehow conjured up this memory.) Greg Nelson was my first kiss. I didn’t really want to kiss him, and he didn’t want to kiss me, but it was something that had to be done.

I remember slumber parties that the boys always tried to crash (that was part of the ritual.) I remember sleepovers with friends who lived in big, big houses and had big, big families. I remember dances in the school auditorium, which were really scary (at least for me) even though we all knew each other. I remember watching basketball games in the gym. I remember going to mass in the morning during Lent and drinking milk from those little cartons afterwards when we had breakfast at our desks. And I remember those go-go boots. I had an aunt who was pretty wild, and she bought them for me. I still prefer boots to shoes.

As I write these things, I realize I prefer my memories of grade school to my memories of high school. Grade school was still so innocent. We were just at the start of becoming the not-very-different adults we are today.

You guys are hilarious, and such good writers! Here are some memories that I have, though my recall of which years they occurred is a little fuzzy.

The girls playground was, indeed, much smaller than the boys. Title IX, anyone?  We played 4 Square and jumped rope when it was nice out, but in the winter we all took turn squishing together in the doorway of the priest’s garage. Remember the chant? “Squish squash, applesauce, evy ivy, over and out!”

In 4^th grade, when we were in the church basement classrooms, I got knocked down on the ice playing Red Rover. I banged my head hard. Sister Mary Leon had me walk to the principal’s office to call my mother. The principal then sent me back to the classroom to say that I was going home. (Didn’t they have phones then?)  I eventually vomited in the principal’s office and I guess she finally figured out I had a concussion and my grandmother came to get me.

Remember during Lent if you went to Mass before school you could bring your breakfast to eat in class? You could feel virtuous and special all at the same time. I would always bring cinnamon toast wrapped in aluminum foil and a glass jar of grapefruit juice.

On All Saint’s Day, you could come to school dressed like your favorite saint, or your confirmation name saint, I think. The nuns had a child-sized Dominican habit and each year one girl was selected to wear it. I don’t remember who in our class was selected, but we were all hoping to be picked.

In 4^th grade, at least in Sister Mary Leon’s class, you had to read 36 books minimum and write book reports. This was a lot for little kids! Also, that was the year that we learned to write with ‘ink pens’ and Sister would not accept a paper with even a single smudge on it. As others have said, she was tough.

I remember 7^th and 8^th grade most vividly. Miss Murphy and Mr Bonine, in particular, treated us as adults and had some pretty high expectations of academic excellence. Remember Sean Devitt’s dramatic reading of ‘Gunga Din?’ He was so good that it was clear he was going places. I heard that he was on Jeopardy?

No one has brought up how mean we were to Sister Cyrillus. In addition to those of you who jumped out the windows and came back in the classroom door to confuse her, people would often reply to her questions with, “Wart did you say, sister?” We were cruel. Also, Sister Leonie often chided us, “Children, don’t pick your faces!”

Speaking of Sister Cyrillus, the nuns changed from long habits and wimples to shorter habits and veils our 8^th grade year. When Sister Cyrillus stepped from behind the podium and we all saw the new shorter habit, there was a collective gasp from the kids. I remember her being quite pleased and she said, “Go ahead, take a good look!”

The girls did a lot of things together in Girl Scouts. Jeanne Krieger’s mom did the cooking badge with us and Anne Burrow’s mom, who was born in Ireland, taught us Irish dancing.

My family moved from 55^th and Grand to 51^st and Colfax the summer of 1967, so we were part of two Annunciation neighborhoods. Back then, moving a couple of miles was like leaving town. You never saw your old neighborhood friends again. I lived across the alley from Mike Garten up through 7^th grade (and announced to my mother in 1^st grade that we were going to get married) and went to Jeanne Krieger’s house a lot. Once we moved, we were on the same block as the Denmans, Kalinowskis, and Lynches. It was a whole different scene on Colfax with most of the families being Catholic and having tons of kids. I was never one of the cool kids down at the flats, though. That gang had formed long before we moved.

In 7^th grade, the day that Bobby Kennedy was shot, we were scheduled for an end-of-year class picnic. I remember how angry about the shooting Miss Murphy was. She slammed the supply room door loudly, saying something about how evil the world was. I brought a transistor radio and we listened to it during the picnic, hoping to hear news of Kennedy’s recovery.

That same summer, a bunch of us took a typing class a Washburn. It was 3 hours every morning for 3 weeks. I think it was free? Our teacher was Gladys Goudal and Katie Perrier did an excellent imitation of her offering us ‘for one thin dime!’ a snack of an orange, a sweet role and a carton of milk.

Thanks for sharing all the great memories here. I look forward to hearing more at the reunion!

Minnow Walsh

Great memories and life lessons. Here’s my to 10 list:

1) Volunteering to be an altar boy and being able to get out of class for funerals. 2) Sneaking sips of church wine (not from the altar of course) 3) DuPont Bridge. 4) Hanging out on Bryant bridge and the double dare to throw tomatoes at passing cars below. 5) The challenge to buy the 38 cents a pack of Lucky Strikes from the corner gas station machine. The soda fountain at Salk Drug, Beeks and of course Little General hanging out naming car models going down Lyndale Ave. 6) Hiding behind Xmas trees in the Lyndale Xmas tree lot from police after we tossed fired bombs off Bryant Bridge (didn’t get caught of course) 7) Challenging Terry Bussen to a fight after school because he was pushing kids in the drinking fountain line, only to get a very bloody one punch in the nose that sent me home trying not to cry in front of anyone. We later became friends. 7) Hanging onto the back of 18G bus driving down Lyndale Ave. 8) The first kiss from Mimi Frederick at the Washburn Tower, it was a great lasting memory of a first kiss! 9) I was in the Gift Nook and stole a cigarette lighter in 5th grade, was on my way home walking past our church and thought I can’t do this... Went back, replaced it and went to confession because I felt terrible. Told Father my sins and that I stole something but I put it back. He said Duffy, I know that’s you, say 10 Hail Mary’s at the altar, (I thought priests couldn’t see you in confession).

There are many more memories, but besides the above mischievous young kid deeds, the great learning experiences and discipline was from our teachers and being taught to be respectful, forgiving and truthful to all and never forget our Catholic roots, which I try to uphold every day. Cheers! Mike Duffy 

Hey all. 

It was great to see the new posts. Thanks Jim Delehanty for bringing back SO MANY memories. Ahhh..the 18-G. Rode it a thousand times. It would drop me off about 200 feet from house! Thanks Tim. Mary Schoenerts house; ( very cool ), mysterious. Marie Herdegen I remember you as a kind of free spirit. Great to hear from you. Very interesting life. Best to all!

In response to Barb Roach's thoughts.  I vividly remember Sr. Edmondo and diagramming sentences.  To this day I still think of that.  I believe that was the single most valuable thing I learned in grade school.  I could not diagram a sentence if my life depended on it today but back then I loved doing it.  I also remember double dutch jump roping on the playground.  I think I vaguely remember playing a few games of Red Rover but I was scared to death to play it.  The most embarassing thing I can recall was in Sr Elizabeth's class (I think that was her name) when we had to give speeches.  I literally got up to give mine and started crying in front of the whole class.  I am still mortified by that memory.  Needless to say public speaking is not my cup of tea even today.

1. More poems please, Tim. I remember reading “My Dead” in The New Republic and thinking, this can’t be, but it has to be!, our Tim Nolan. They only ever published about two or three poems per issue in those days, and I assume everything had to be okayed by the genius Leon Wieselltier - though there was a separate poetry editor - meaning, well, wow. And meaning here’s a bona fide poet - produced by Sister Luetta. (Do you remember: “When fishes flew and forests walked, And figs grew upon thorn, Some moment when the moon was blood, Then surely I was born. With monstrous head and sickening cry, and ears like errant wings . . .” This we had to memorize.) 

2. Also in our little Pearl Park neighborhood was Michelle Sausen, of course, on 53rd and 3rd.  - Jim

I've enjoyed reading everyone's posts and reminiscing about those years at Annunciation.  I was definitely not one of the "cool kids", so my experience in and out of school was different than many of the ones I read here.  And now I know why, after reading Jim Delahanty's lastest post - I lived on the "wrong" side of  Lyndale, east of Nicollet in Tangletown!  I had heard of "the Flats" but never really knew where they were.  So there were no first kisses or boy-girl parties in my grade school years!  And the only dancing with boys that I actually did was in gym class when they had square dancing.  Remember that?!   I loved it, but I suspect most of the boys were horrified.  

Random memories that stand out over the years: The girls could buy (at the school bookstore) green ties that said Luck o' the Irish and wear these, instead of the stupid red uniform ties, for St Patrick's day.  Classroom altars to Mary during the month of May, when kids took turns making a crown for Mary and bringing flowers from home (the smell of lilacs still brings back those memories).  Playing Chinese jump rope (made from rubber bands) and double Dutch rope on the playground, where we were only allowed on the girls side.  My teacher for fourth grade was Sr Mary Leon, the only fourth grade not in the church basement.  We felt left out of that whole church basement scene!  In sixth grade with Sr Edmondo, kids could opt to stay in from recess when it was really cold and diagram sentences on the blackboard (does anyone remember that??) - somehow that was fun! Go figure...  I remember the Great Books Club - I was in a group led by Paul Hoedeman's mom and Jim Ventura's mom. I tended to be very quiet and had little to say in the group and found it a little intimidating, but did get exposed to a lot of great literature.  Finally getting to ditch the plaid jumpers and wear a uniform skirt and no longer having the red ties, starting in seventh grade, when we moved over to the new wing of the school.  That was also when we moved to different classrooms for each class and had more than one teacher. I remember once wearing Slicker Frosted Lipgloss (as advertised on The Monkees and Laugh In) to school one day and being told by one of the nuns to wipe it off.  I know there were other girls that got away with wearing make up in school, but I couldn't pull it off! We had Latin in seventh and eighth grade, taught by student-teachers from the U of M, who I remember being very lively and fun, particularly in contrast to some of our other teachers.  I remember the two eighth grade dances being a big deal - Halloween (I dressed up as a gypsy) and the graduation dance.  Lots of hopeful anticipation of dancing with a boy, but little if any opportunity.  I had no insight into the terror that many an eighth grade boy might feel in that setting!  

Overall I have mostly fond memories of my years at Annunciation.  Unfortunately I'm not going to be able to come to Minneapolis that weekend to attend the reunion, but will continue to enjoy everyone's comments and photos. Keep 'em coming!

For me it was the 18-G

which started downtown

on Nicollet and ended up

at Southdale or the airport

But it dropped me off

just beyond Minnehaha Creek

near Thompson Lumber

and Bill’s Shoe Repair

Near the sign that spelled

M-O-T-E-L in humming

downward sequence

just as the night came on

And I had a home

with parents who let me be

and a brother and sister

I could get to laugh

And a dog—there must always

be a dog—Kip—who loved me—

his eyes gazing into mine—

from a very close distance.

Thank you, Anne Hamel. Our hypothetical dance might have been unforgettable to you, though not like your moment with Linnihan; in my experience girls find it hard to expunge memories of dragging a fainted boy around a dance floor.

All these stories and great photos from Phil Linnihan, Jeanne Hartle, and others remind me that where we lived affected social life -- and life’s whole trajectory! A bold assertion: the Annunciation cool kids lived west of Lyndale and north of 54^th or thereabouts. Maybe there were a few cool kids just over these borders, but east of Nicolet? That was beyond the pale. There were no cool kids east of Nicolet at all (sorry Mike Cooney, Terry Bussen, and Mary Schneider, who maybe came closest to cool.)

The cool kids socialized with each other outside of school. They shared things like hangouts, bonfires, kisses, and friendship. I envied this at the time. There were whispers and gushes on the playground and in the hallways about "the flats" and "the bridge" and other landmarks (I still don't know what the flats were), about escapades, about hanging out at each others’ houses, doing this-or-that with so-and-so. All of this was compelling and mysterious and very “other” to a kid like me. If I have a relatively good memory for Annunciation now, it may be because I developed the habits of the observer, the ponderer, the kid curious about fascinating peers seeming to have interesting adventures.  I was far from alone in being an outsider, of course, but some people who grow up outside of a prestige group don’t worry about it, while others are always looking in. We develop these traits.

Only a handful of kids in our class lived east of Nicollet. In the sharply bounded neighborhood where my family lived -- 35W to the west, Page School to the north, Pearl Park to the east, and Diamond Lake Road to the south, there were only five of us: Mike Cooney, Jean Breitenbucher, Mary Schneider, Mary Lee, and me. Or was Barbara Roach with us too? I think maybe so. In any case, the five or six of us weren’t friends. Apart from occasional chance meet-ups with Cooney on the baseball fields at Pearl Park, I pretty much never encountered any Annunciation classmates outside of school. I believe this is the way it was for most of us living east of Nicolet – those I mentioned plus others in the broader eastern reaches, such as Rita Molitor, Lisa Grage, Jeff Hylden, Terry Bussen, Greg Pietig, Don Hall, and Joe Burns. Our area wasn’t teeming with kids in quite the way the cool zone was. It was also very much less Catholic. At our house we had Olsons to the north, Olsons to the south, Swensons behind us, and, well, you get the picture.  I can only speak for myself, but there were no bonfires, escapades, or kisses in my area that I knew of. Just playing with siblings and Lutherans and being generally virtuous. (I’m aware that Cooney and Bussen may not always have been entirely virtuous, but these are generalities.)

One of my favorite though somewhat bittersweet memories of Annunciation is Gary Hipwell asking me, awkwardly, as we were putting on our altar boy cassocks toward the end of eighth grade, whether I had, ahem, well, uh, whether I had kissed a girl yet. I’m sure we’d been hearing the same playground whisperings. He seemed so very relieved when my answer was incredulity: “Are you kidding? Are you aware that this is Jim Delehanty you’re talking to? Maybe you haven’t noticed that in my life I've just about never spoken with a girl who isn’t my sister?” Gary’s concerns were moral, I think. He was Catholic like Pat Kenney was, and I like I was too. (Gary’s brother, Father Roger Hipwell, is even now the pastor at Nativity parish in St. Paul.) Gary said, “That’s good. There will be plenty of time for that in high school, don’t you think?” I had the distinct impression that this was an observation he had picked up from his mother. “Yes, plenty of time in high school” was my answer.  What I was really thinking, though, was “If I get to the point of being able to talk to a girl by the end of high school, never mind kissing, I will consider myself lucky. And I’m doubtful about that.” And in fact this is pretty much how things developed for me. Gary had a good life, though far too short, and probably far too painful at times. He died the summer after we graduated from De La Salle. Perhaps there was a kiss. I hope so. Maybe somebody knows it was so. But I suspect he was on a trajectory like mine, and kissing, if it were to come at all, would come rather excruciatingly later than high school.

The barber shop right there where we could look at girlie mags and ask him Jim the barber to give us haircuts like Clandy’s. Phil’s dad chasing him around with a canoe paddle. Schoenecker pushing cartons of cigarettes out the window of li'l G. Hartles carrying out dead pets. My daughter is not impressed. But I remember every one of you including the good kids. 

First a heartfelt prayer. May the souls of the faithfully departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.

In reflection, Annunciation was a good experience. I was a bit shy, nerdy and often distracted by non-school people, projects & activities.

Almost 50% of my parent’s siblings, my Aunts and Uncles were religious - two nuns, two brothers, three priests - and they spent time with me fishing, movies, ball games, trips, etc. So, I tended to relate to the Annunciation nuns & priests as an extension of family in some way. There was a lot of family all around. Even my uncle George Brophy (talent scout/VP for MN Twins) would accurately comment on my little league baseball performance when I saw him.

Going to Annunciation seemed like a privilege. So much so that I worked and paid all the fees from third grade on. I’d save gifts, mow lawns, shovel walks, deliver newspapers, and save. Being the oldest of seven kids, my parents encouraged me on as they had to cover my younger siblings year after year.

Once I settled in to the school routine in the first grades, it seemed simple and straightforward. I remember learning the basics of reading, writing, arithmetic, catechism, geography, history, latin, etc.

I remember...

First grade - education subjects were pretty simple, we went to the sanctuary across the hall a lot, and they had me taking regular tests as a part of a study - I think the UofM.

Lunch was great in these early grades because my grandparents lived 1 block down Garfield behind the school. I frequently had lunch with grandma.

Second grade - my teacher sent me to Salks a few times to buy boxes of dreamsicles so she could treat the whole class. Somehow, Fr (Bishop) Dudley and Fr DeSutter announced that Patty Lawrow and I were chosen to lead the first communion procession on December 8th, Feast of the Immaculate Conception - I don’t know about Patty, but for me it seemed tied to sympathy about my sister who had died near that time.

Third grade - as in all grades, we started each day with prayer and this teacher added the “Zippity-Do-Da” song - it still can get stuck in my head. I think it was third grade (maybe fourth) when our class made a vinyl record of Christmas Choir songs. Anyone still have a copy?

Fourth grade - That year started the St Dominic Savio Club. I remember that the principal substituted for a while and taught us arithmetic - we had fun (or not) learning long division - and she taught us to count in Japanese - that was fun and came in handy later in life.

Fifth grade - we had the same Sister as fourth grade. Because we all knew each other, we (the students) would change seats out of her assigned seating - we then watched how long it would take for her to figure it out. That always brought a good laugh. Each year we were asked to dress up like our patron on our name - saint’s feast day - this was the final year for that .

Sixth grade - In my memory, "school was a blur" because of outside interests & activities - evening paper delivery route, boy scouts, and a bunch of other stuff.

Somewhere in here, there is a memory of an attempt to start a swim team - We all sang “Yellow Submarine“ and "Hey Jude" on the bus to UST to learn racing dives and lane swimming at the old UST pool. This might have moved to St Paul Seminary pool for a bit - not sure. In the end, the swim team never took off.

Seventh grade - same “school was a blur” - extended paper delivery routes to morning and evening.

Eighth grade - same “school was a blur” - traded my morning paper delivery route and started jogging around Lake Nokomis @5:30am before school. 

Across these years was Cub Scouts, Boy Scouts, BWCA canoe trips, fundraising, spaghetti dinners, pancake breakfasts, choir concerts, stage performances, school patrol, sacraments, and more. Met a lot of amazing people and their whole families and enjoyed the activity to keep the school running…

Two additional stories.

First, Mike Contreras (Miguel Angel Garcia Contreras) helped daily with my evening paper route in the 7th & 8th grades. We profit shared. To add to Jim Delehanty’s info, Mike lived with his older brother Mario's family. Mario worked in men's suits at Sears and was a tailor; skills learned from their father who had a men's suit/tailor shop back in Mexico. I was able to travel and spend 6 weeks with Mike when he transitioned home to live with his parents in Orizaba, Mexico. Great family! Amazing trip! We exchanged regular letters after that. Mike had an aunt who lived in Chicago. The aunt phoned me when we were about 22 years old to inform me of Mike’s death in an automobile accident. 

Second, since my father’s passing, my mother has shared an Annunciation story. My father would discuss school with us at family dinners. He would delight when good things were happening and think about the gaps in the teaching across grades - as my siblings were in each grade after us. Occasionally, religious aunts & uncles would be with us and join in the discussion. I am learning that my father, who regularly attend early morning Mass, would corner Msgr Colbert and let him know if his kids were getting a good education. Msgr Colbert would turn around and inform the principal. I guess this occasionally had repercussions. My dad rarely talked about his service as Master Sergeant in charge of an Army motor pool on the front lines in the Korean War, but he never forgot how to influence.

Annunciation has been a solid foundation for life and I cannot be more grateful. My siblings have kept far better contact with the school and the parish. Several funerals of the last couple years have brought me into delightful contact with Miss Murphy.

Despite challenges & demands, still hoping to attend the reunion amidst a very dynamic August agenda. 

Hello all.

Anne Hamel's kind words finally did it. Anne I remember. I hope you and yours are well. Although I am not an official alumni of Annunciation, the memories are there. I remember Sister Marie Catherine giving me the "iron finger" poking me hard in the chest, when I wound up to deck her. This was either the first or second time I was asked to leave the school :) I remember us testing out the new Sister Florence by putting erasers up in the lights. Sister turned around just in time to see Charlie Miller standing on his chair. She proceeded to slap him out the door and into the hallway. She brought him back in and sat him back in his chair. The testing was OVER. Sorry Chuck. Of course I remember the out the window bit. I remember kicking Patti Lawrows crutches down the aisle for some reason?? Flirting I guess. Oh, I can't forget Peter Healy shooting a rubber band that stuck in my EYE! Putting tacks on the nun's chairs that they didn't feel!!!! Spitballs well placed. I remember short flings with Patti and Anne Reger and.... My first true relationship with Jane Hanneman. There was Jeannie Hartle, the rock of the whole motley crew. There seems to be a lot of people missing? That's too bad. I won't be able to make the reunion because of other obligations. I am very happy, living in Santa Fe NM.  I have a wonderful daughter and granddaughter. I will always have fond memories of you all.

All right. Jim’s last entry has pulled me in.

Last week I had wonderful talks with Jeanne and Mimi (Frederick) O’Connell, two good friends. We talked about Annunciation days…some…and laughed a lot. Jim, your attention to detail is fun to read, but it is the recollection of some of your thinking that I find to be more interesting. Seems that even at a young age you were already on your way to guessing at and articulating some of the questions, tensions, and inconsistencies I could only “feel” then.  I honestly don’t remember much of what I thought about when I was in school. However, I’m telling you, had I known you were such a thinker, I would have been happy to dance with you at the 8^th grade Halloween Party. I remember that dance. I went as Cleopatra. I had a very cool wig I made from a mop I dyed black and a cardboard necklace I spray-painted gold.

As for the differences between the “girls’” and “boys’” activities, there were certainly differences.  And, while it is true that I also envied Mary Shoenert and her white crush boots (no question, she was very cool in those days), I had a rich life outside of school, filled with secret clubs, art classes, books, rock collections of all sorts, and wild adventures we enacted all over the neighborhood. I don’t remember, as Katie said she did, watching “it all” nor do I remember being envious. So Jim, don’t be too sad. Fortunately, there were additional routes alongside a Catholic parochial school education in the 60s.

For the record, I got my first real kiss in 7^th, maybe 8^th grade, from Philip Linnihan at the Washburn Watertower. That kiss smelled/tasted of cigarettes and was everything a first kiss should be.

 In 4^th grade Mary Shoenert told me she was related to Romeo and Juliet. When I relayed this impressive bit to my family over dinner, my brother Joe said, “That sounds like an Anna Marie Larkin story.” Anna Marie had some really good stories. What I wouldn’t give for a good long visit with her!  

MY FIRST PARTY!  Indelible to my memory is the first party I talked my Mom into letting me have down in our basement Rec. room.  It was supposed to be a girls only party.  But the boys crashed it through the little half windows around the foundation of the house.  I remember them kind of sliding through the windows lengthwise while someone held the window open.  Lots of fun!  I'm glad my Mom had a hearing loss, or there would have been hell to pay for that get together.  Definitely worth the risk though :)

HANGING OUT AT THE DUPONT BRIDGE AND THE FLATS ... a lot of time after school was spent in these two places.  Nice for me since it was close to home.  Besides solving the world's problems, we were practicing to be derelicts!  The Bridge was a great place to hang out when you really didn't want to be seen by adults.  It was secluded yet peaceful, where you could just joke around, until the guys did things like hang Mimi Murphy upside down over the bridge when she was in a leg cast from her knee surgery.  I think the girls didn't hang out down there for a while after that.

The Rose Gardens was another popular place to gather as we were learning to mingle together at a different hormonal level than we had been at while growing up with each other in the years before.  Arm wrestling (and leg wrestling) was a favorite form of flirting, if I recall!  In fact, I'm pretty certain that I don't recall a thing Ms. Murphy said in History class or Mr. Bonine said in Geography class due to a sudden awareness and intense attraction to the opposite sex during those years.  Glad I headed to Regina the next year :)

ANNUNCIATION INVITATIONAL BASKETBALL TOURNAMENT ... what a weekend, in more ways than one!  The boys were strutting their stuff on the court, some of us girls were providing half-time entertainment, and there was another kind of entertainment going on in the dark recesses of the stairs leading down to the Gym. Oh Boy!  Besides having a huge crush on Rick Marton who was one of the star basketball players, one of my fondest memories of that event was singing "Bridge Over Troubled Water" with Katie Perrier during one of the halftime breaks.  My heart was beating so fast that I could hardly catch my breath.  Still love that song and my friend Katie :)

EIGHTH GRADE DANCE ... That was a pretty special night ... lights down low, a real band playing all of our favorite tunes, slow dancing with the boys we liked (or hoping sitting on our side of the Auditorium hoping to be asked!).  As I look at these pics, i find myself wondering how the Nuns ever allowed us to dance so closely.  Surely there was a measuring stick there somewhere!

Tippi Huss and Jim Picha are the dancers featured in this pic.  Even though Tippi's back is to us, I remember how I longed to have the cool dress that she had on ... loved those sleeves!

I never had the greatest memory (and aging hasn't helped that a bit), so I have taken photos and notes for as loong as I can remember.  I must have gotten my first camera for Christmas during 8th Grade, since I don't have any photos of our class before that!  Apparently, I thought all the special events needed to be memorialized by photos.  Here are a few of them.  To see more, check out the Photo Album tab to the left.

LAST DAY OF SCHOOL ... Oh how much we girls looked forward to not having to wear those God-awful plaid uniforms!  Time to strut around in our dressy "street" clothes, which no one else ever saw us in except for at Church or some sibling's graduation party.  I can make out Carol Prince, Ann Reiger, Mary Pedric, Barb Roach, Patty Lawrow, Anne Burke, Michelle Sausen, Jean Madden and Joan Rains in this pic.

1st Grade - no memories. Brain still undeveloped.

2nd Grade - Sr. Scholastica? We were the last class to celebrate our First Communion in the old church which became the school auditorium and lunchrrom.

Pope John XXIII suddenly died and all of the students were rushed into the brand new church for a prayer service. I didn't know the difference between the Pope and Monsignor Colbert but I prayed anyway.

3rd Grade - Mrs. Redding. President Kennedy was assassinated. I think the school broadcast the news network from Dallas over the PA system announcing the President was dead. All the teachers were crying and school was let out early?

4th Grade - Sr. Mary Leon. She was tough as nails but I grew to really like her.

To celebrate some Holiday (Lent?) we hung a papier-mache, horse-shaped pinata filled with candy from the ceiing in the church basement where all the 4th grade classrooms were located. I was dressed-up and blind-folded in some crazy costume (a devil? an angel?) and hit the pinata with a stick breaking it open so all us kids could pick up the candy that spilled out.

I had a big crush on Miss Baltz.

5th Grade - Mrs. Turgi (sp?). The Twins were in the 1965 World Series. A TV was wheeled into the classroom on a cart and we got to watch the World Series games in the afternoon. Not all academics all of the time!

Terry Bussen and I would play underneath the Diamond Lake Road bridge in the dirt construction site that soon became 35W.

6th Grade - Sr. John Francis. She was very strict and would pull the boys up out of our chairs by our "sideburns" whenever we misbehaved. Man did that ever hurt!

Anne Marie Larkin told me this joke: "Steve, hold my hands and keep holding them while I tell you this joke." She asked "How are babies made?" Being worldly, I of course answered "by --cking." She said "No, by holding hands!!" I was so embarrassed I jerked my hands away and turned beet red and she gave me that famous, beautiful Anne Marie Larkin smile!

7th Grade - Sr. Elizabeth Ann. She was a very young and totally overwhelmed by hormone-infused 7th graders. We could sense her vulnerability and were merciless.

I picked up an eraser from the chalkboard and hid it in my lap. When Sister turned her back I stood up and threw it as hard as I could so Paul Schoenecker would catch it. I overthrew him and it knocked some books off a bookshelf. Sister turned around at the commotion and demanded to be told who did it. Not one of my loyal classmates tattled on me! What a code of honor.

I think Sr. Elizabeth Ann left teaching and the religious life a few years later. I will definitely do some purgatory time for the role I played in this. Schoenecker will be sitting close by.

I got my first kiss with Terri Davis in the bushes near the flats on an October afternoon after school.

We had a very nice young Asian woman teacher who taught us introductory Latin. Of course, we respectfully called her "Magistra Chink" behind her back. Oh God, were we really that bad?

8th Grade - Sr. Cyrillus (sp?) -

The girls all became beautiful, shapely young women and the boys were totally outmatched (except Kevin Hayes!)

Peter Healy stole Sister C's keys from her desk when she wasn't looking. She went into a panic and begged the class to tell her who took them. Again, the "wall of silence" stared back at her and no one tattled. Peter felt guilty since Sister was crying and secretly returned the keys during recess. 

We hung around Patty Lawrow's house a bunch of times after school. I was hanging around for reasons other than doing homework!I remember what a sweet lady Mrs. Lawrow was! 

With a number of other delinquents (Nelson, Schoenecker, Hirsch, Denman, Bussen, Urbanek?? maybe others?) we made molotov cocktails using coke bottles. We threw these firebombs off the Bryant bridge on a Friday night in the fall setting ablaze all of the leaves on the ground below. How did we not burn down the whole neighborhood? What was wrong with us??

This same group plus a few more would sneak into both North Stars and Twins games. We saw dozens and dozens of games without ever buying a ticket.

Near the end of 8th grade we were all preparing to split up and go 9 different directions to high school. I was excited but also scared to leave the Annunciation cocoon and so many great friends. "A Nut's Creation" prepared us well for the next step in our lives! Looking forward to seeing everyone!

Katie, I am sure all of these things happened. Thank you! I had utterly forgotten Miss Baltz, across the vast expanse of the concrete common area from Sister Geneviene’s classroom (where I was) and Sister John Francis’s classroom (that was her name, right?). Fourth grade was an important year for a lot of us. Pure childhood began turning into something else. I’m really glad to learn that second-grade teacher Miss Hackenmueller left to get married. Nobody ever told me this or else I forgot. I sort of secretly assumed pregnancy, it being 1962 and the departure seeming hush-hush. Marriage makes me smile about it. I still wish she hadn’t left. The story of Sister Lorcan’s quarter for hot dog day (another thing I’d forgotten about!) is so sweet. A great story. Finally, if your recollection, with Jeanne Hartle, about the difference between boys’ and girls’ experience of Annunciation is mostly true (and it sure feels like some kind of true), this gives me new insight and makes me kind of sad. The white go-go boots! I remember them now. They loomed largish in your world, eh?  Something like sports or active games could have been provided or encouraged on the much smaller girls’ side of the playground to give the girls the kinds of outlets and diversions from petty differences that we boys had. Complete playground integration would have been best, I think, but nobody was thinking straight in the 1960s. Sister John Francis would play kickball with the boys. Were the girls included? Maybe sometimes. I can’t remember. But mostly I think the girls were left to chat and maybe jump rope.

Somehow related: I remember overhearing Ann Marie Larkin introduce  her mom to Mary Schoenert on the last day of eighth grade — some moms showed up that day — and she introduced her as “the prettiest girl in our class.” I was shocked by this statement, true though it was, because Ann Marie pronounced it with such pleasure, not a trace of envy in her voice, and her mom smiled and accepted the statement sincerely as just a matter of fact, nothing a girl should not say, and the beautiful Mary Schoenert smiled gracefully and without excessive pride, and the conversation just continued from there as smoothly as one-two-three. I felt I learned something important in that moment about the world of girls and and the world of women, but I still haven’t been able to put exactly into words what I learned. Something about realism and honesty and frankness of a kind we boys mostly found ways around or could only get to through cruelty. Your observations with Jeanne Hartle add color to this. Honestly we boys were mostly stupid. Your world had some advantages.

If I had Jim Delahanty's amazing recall, I could be absolutely sure that these things really happened, but here goes.

I sat in the first row in Sr. Lorcan's class. She asked if anyone knew a song. I popped up out of my seat and sang, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. I remained in the first row that year, because I liked to 'visit' with my neighbors too much.

My neighbors were fascinating to me. Miguel Contreras was from a place I had never heard of; imagine how he felt. I studied him; where was Mexico? How was he different?

Sr. Lorcan was kind. She once took me in to the ante room over the garage and said she would give me a quarter so I could partake of hot dog day. I was to bring the other quarter. Apparently my family didn't have much spare change, which she knew, but I was yet to find out. My mom gave in.

There was also the tortuous vision and hearing test; did we all have to take it? I was so flustered by the hand signals I was supposed to use, that I completely flopped. They were also convinced that I couldn't hear, because I never answered when called on ( I was day-dreaming! Didn't they know I was bored?)

My heart was broken in second grade when Miss Hackenmuller left mid-year to get married. I don't recall her replacement. I did learn to love reading, and again, never answered when called on because I was reading ahead, a no-no.

Miss Jones was my third grade teacher; kind of a moody thing. Kennedy's assasination is the most intense memory of that year. I was terrorized by some nun who said that our fathers and brothers would have to go away to war. Was I 9? I went crying home to my mom that day. 

Fourth grade in the church basement with Miss Baltz was lively. The boys really started to act up. Someone, ( Phil Linnehan?) set the clocks ahead one day and we all left early. Or did we? I seem to think so.

I don't remember why I had to be subjected to her, but another fourth grade teacher named Sr. Mary Leon was horrible. She towered over me while she cruelly admonished me for have a crinkled up red tie. While trying to iron it myself, I had actually burnt the ends to a crisp! I was so frightened I didn't hear everything she said, I just stared up at her devil red eyes.

Sean Devitt and I were chosen to read to the class while Miss Baltz took a break. Did others get to do this, too?

Sr. Cassian was fifth, not sure who was sixth, Miss Murphy was seventh and Sr. Leone was eighth. 

Jeannie Hartle and I were talking about the differences between the girls and boys friendships.  Boys had opportunites to bond being altar boys and playing sports. We girls looked at each others' clothes. I coveted those white Go-go boots that Mary Schoenerker wore; I can still see her on the payground. We had Girl Scouts and playground games. We talked about going steady. Most of us girls just talked about it and if you were not a popular type, you watched it all, fascinated and a little envious. 

Still, I remember mostly good things, and look forward to hearing your stories.

I have been so impressed by Mr. Delehanty's sharp recollection of our "school daze" that I have been racking my brain to come up with lessons learned.  Like Jim D. I was the oldest of 5 and had no roadmap to surviving Annunciation.  So making mistakes was how I learned best, and many of those mis-steps were lessons that carried me through the last 50 years.  Here are the "Top 10" really embarrassing and stupid things I did (at least the ones I am willing to share):

1.  As a first grader in Sr. Lorken's class room with 49 other classmates (along with Delehanty), our desks were crammed together.  Being in the last row and so close to the students in front of us, I thought it would be really funny to un-zip the plaid jumper of the girl sitting directly in front of me.  BUSTED!  Sister was right behind me when I pulled this stunt....and I am really lucky I was not sent to Reform School!  My report card reveals a "D" in conduct for that period, which I will gladly show anyone interested at the re-union.  I can't remember who the innocent victim was...but I bet she was cute.  Humiliating and very difficult to expalin to my parents.

2.  After graduating from Mrs. Redding's class (3rd grade), we moved to "independence" in the church basement for 4th grade.  As I was walking with Sister Genevieve one day in the parking lot, we came across Mrs. Redding.  I said to her "well there is old Mrs. Redding...so nice to see you are doing well".  Sister immediatly marched me back to home room and made me write an apology note...which I had to immediatly hand deliver...regarding my comment on her age.  Somehow I dodged another "D" in conduct.

3.  It was really embarrasing to sit in class with soaking wet corduroys all afternoon following the noon recess.   So itchy.  All the result of tackle pom pull away...and my year long effort to pull down Mike Dalton.  Mike always made it across...no matter what I did.  Very uncomfortable!

4.  While in the 4th grade in the church basement, Sr. Genevieve decided we should have a lot of pageants....Thanksgiving, Christmas etc. She insisted that  I sing Silent Night (as a solo) at the Christmas show, which was attended by several other grades besides us.  I had no clue how to say NO to a a nun.  Thank God when it was my turn to sing, she turned out all the lights....so nobody knew who was singing.  Except  John and Dick Foley. They knew it was me....and made me pay....big time.

5.  Speaking of John Foley, we lived a block apart, among a bunch of Annunciation kids around 51st and Emerson, Dupont and Colfax.  In about the 4th or 5th grade John and I got inot a "scrape" and it was time to defend our respective honor...instigated  by all the older kids (Dorseys, O'Rourke's, older Foley brothers).  The fight was over in one punch.....to my stomach....knocking the wind of out of me.  From that point on I was labeled the weakling of the neighborhood!

6.  Sr. Edmondo (6th grade) was a straight shooter if there was ever was one in the convent.  I had done my best on a really creative Art project that I thought was really great (of course Mary Herdigan was the gold standard). She hated it. She gave me all kinds of suggestions, but it was clear this was "F' level work.  Basically, I have not attemped anything really creative ever since.  In the last 30 years, I have toured many modern art museums all over the USA and Europe and  I have seen "works" far worse than the one I presented to Sister.  Such a humiliating burden to carry.

7.  In 7th grade Ms Murphy was my home room teacher.  Lets just say I was not meeting expectations....being totally focused on sports and other distractions.  After committing a really bad act of behavior (which I can't recall what it was) she assigned me detention every day... for the rest of the school year.  She persoannly supervised my daily detention, which was in the spring during baseball season.  So every day I was late to Mr. Bonine's baseball practice at Kinney Park.  Mr. B tried to intervene...but to no avail.  I think Bonine felt sorry for me and he let me play more innings than most 7th graders on the team.  I did not have the nerve to tell my parents.  

8.  8th grade brought still more humiliation as I charged toward graduation.  But they were bigger and more visible given the fact we were the oldest in the School.  The first big one was when "Wally" threw me out of the All-Star basketball game in front of the whole school.  He was refereeing the game and, of course, I thought he made a bad call when Tim Nolan clearly fouled me....yet Wally called me for traveling.  So I made a gesture (not the finger) trying to show him what Tim did to me.  He took it otherwise...and out I went....disqualified.

9.  The most embarrasing moment of my Annunciation years is one Steve Sefton (Washburn HS baseball captain) has been recounting for 50 years.  In the Minneapolis City Baseball Championship game we were knotted up 0-0 with Ascension late in the game.  Their ace pitcher (Tommy Joe Peterson) was killing us.  Miraculously, I hit a double off the "Man-Boy" pitcher.  Bonine gave me the steal sign on the next pitch....so off I went to third base.  Clearly safe, I decided to stand up rather than slide....only to lose my footing and trip over the base... rolling into the coaches box.  The third baseman walked over and taged me out, thus losing our best scoring opportunity.  We lost in the next innning and the Championship was gone.  I wish Sefton would somehow forget that game.

10.  My final learning expereince in 8th grade (that I am willing to make public) was at the Annunciation Invitational Basketball Tournament, the biggest social event of the year.  The goal was to sneak up to the Nurses office (during the games) for a very awkward encounter with a female classmate. David Murphy (eventual Homecoming King at Washurn HS!) did most of the coaxing....and a few of us followed his lead.  Enough said.

I have to admit that I have not tried to dredge up these memories in a very long time. They are fading. Thanks to those that have added stories thus far and I hope others will join in.  If you do not see me at the re-union its becasue Ms. Murphy sent me off to detention.

We are staying there only because Aqua or whatever it was called is gone. Charlie and I once took a late night dip there and left with a styrofoam surfboard. To this day I feel badly for the kid who woke up to find it missing. I hear the Metro is now a four star hotel?

I too wish we could respond to other stories here, but we can save that for the party. The organizers are doing an awesome job on this, and I thank them.

I spent only 8th grade at A Nut’s Creation, but it was transformational for me. Maybe some of that was the times or moving to The Cities. But I recall all your faces even though I probably won’t now. I got to experience all the characters of groups 1, 2 and 3.

Random memories: Schoenecker campaigning for Nixon, Charlie’s stingray riding prowess, what went on in dark corners during the basketball tournament, the flats, wanting Clandy’s Cool hair, Playboy at the barber shop, Jeanne snuffing out our cigarettes, Gin on the hay ride. You all corrupted me! But I also remember the ‘good kids’. 

16. I was mortified when my dad and mom announced that next Sunday we’d be going to Mass not at church but in the living room of the Rileys. Mom was going to bake the communion bread, just a regular loaf. This was some progressive Catholic experiment. My parents were good with it.  I wasn’t so sure, but the mortifying part was this: I was in sixth grade and Mrs. Riley was my teacher. Our family dutifully showed up with one other family in the Rileys’ living room that Sunday afternoon. Father Hessian said the mass I think, or maybe it was Father Wirth. Fortunately, Mrs. Riley understood sixth-graders. She scrupulously ignored me as I entered with my embarrassing family and sat embarrassed on her sofa pretending not to daydream the mass away. Nor did she mention this encounter the next day in class or ever after. Mass in peoples’ living rooms did not catch on, a good thing because imagine the priest shortage if all masses were for congregations that could fit in a house. They’d have had to start ordaining Presbyterians, Mormons, Hindus, possibly even women.

17. The sisters who taught us had a great range of competencies, sensibilities, and understandings of the minds of children. The nature of their faith also spanned the full range of the beliefs and doubts of adult Catholics.  Those of pure and simple faith taught religion purely and simply. Sister Cassian in fifth grade begged us, practically weeping, not to lose our pure, unquestioning childhood faith. Our childhood faith is a gift, she said, that we must do our very best to retain. So very few people entering adulthood seemed to be able to hold onto their pure, simple, obedient, childhood faith, she lamented. We must treasure it (she assumed we still had it), keep it! I translated this as, “Don’t grow up.” Is there a single admonition less inspiring to a ten-year-old? I still identify as Catholic in some fundamental way so I think it’s okay for me to point out that extolling simplicity is a bad approach to instilling mature Catholicism.  Also, teachers should know that ten-year-olds already have subtle minds. Teaching down to them, especially in religion, will always backfire. Right then and there I began doubting or mentally challenging every single thing Sister Cassian said. On all subjects.  

18. I think it was also Sister Cassian in fifth grade (or conceivably Sister Luetta in 8^th grade), who, operating in this same spirit, spent a religion class discussing and praising conversion of non-Catholics to Catholicism (“God has a special love for the convert”). In the course of this lesson she started pressing, really pressing Karen Goldman to speak in this regard about her father. “Huh?” Did Sister have some knowledge of the Goldman family? Or was this surname stereotyping? Either way, Karen Goldman, taken by surprise, wanted nothing do to with it. She flat-out refused to talk, even under weirdly unrelenting pressure.  It was pretty admirable. Karen was embarrassed, we were embarrassed for Karen, and we were embarrassed for our teacher too, who was an adult, and supposed to know not to let her faith or her lesson plan take priority over humane decency. The girl obviously doesn’t want to talk about this personal subject, which you seem possibly to be getting wrong. So stop!

19. This awkward episode was less intense but similar in type to the single most disturbing Annunciation experience I witnessed, the short-skirt debacle of 8^th-grade picture day. Even I, a generally oblivious boy, found that day troubling.  Girls were sent home to change after Sister Luetta an/or Sister Marie Catherine measured their skirts with a yardstick. What was she thinking? Under what Catholic or moral principal do we humiliate 13-year old girls, humiliate them at a moment of particular vulnerability and pride, feeling special but tentative in their fashionable new clothes? And did Sister think she wasn’t about to humiliate and probably truly anger their mothers too? The moms obviously helped the girls pick these outfits and approved. If I, a 13-year-old boy, could see this, how could she not understand what a mistake she was making? Maybe there were worse cases at Annunciation of pseudo-morality turning into cruelty to children, but this is the one that stands out in my memory.  

20. And on and on we could go. The weirdly delicious smell of the absorbent used by the janitors to sweep up vomit. The fantastic smell of the bin of unburned incense in the room where we altar boys put on our vestments. Monsignor Colbert’s labored sermons, with their constant verbal crutch, the singsong “How we know . . .” (my dad said he was a great administrator, “a first-rate man with the finances” and “we all have our strengths and weaknesses”).  How 4^th grade in the church basement created class solidarity because we were all together, separate from others. The special feeling of entering a restricted, holy, mysterious place when we would occasionally be sent to the convent. How in the early years the hallway over the gym was an open balcony looking down on the basketball court, and how what became the girls bathroom on that hallway had been a boys’ locker room, with showers. The boiler room.  Singing Christmas carols in the nursing home across the playground, a real penance. Four-square. The safety patrol position on the island in the middle of Lyndale Avenue and what parents would think about positioning their children there today. The outright fundamental unquestioned patriarchy that shaped us.  School Daze, that brilliant publication, of which I still possess the December 22^nd, 1965 issue. How the bells in the new church were christened before they were hoisted, christened Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. I was there for the event. Do they still go by these names? Do they whisper to each other at night? “Luke. Hey Luke. Have you seen Wad down there lately? Coleman? Melody? Urbanek?”

I have really enjoyed the stories others have put up here. They embolden me to add a few more. I hope I'm not hogging the space. I have good recall and the time-luxury of the recent retiree. Maybe these will remind people of things, fondly or not, or inspire others to add their own recollections or challenge mine -- memory being wildly idiosyncratic and a great deceiver.

11. Sid Hartman taught me how to read. This meant Sister Lorcan didn’t have to do it.  Five of us in Sister Lorcan’s first-grade class could read when we arrived or caught on so fast we were a burden to her. Sally Ferguson was one of the five but I don’t remember who the others were. Sister had to find us endless special worksheets and workbooks to complete while the other 45 kids (yes, a first-grade class of fifty) labored through the adventures of John, Jean, Judy, Spot, Puff, and my personal favorite, the handyman Zeke, who was a non-Catholic, or so said Sister. The arrival in Minnesota of the baseball Twins in spring 1961 had caught my fancy, more as a matter of state pride than knowledge of the game, but I developed an intense need to know what was going on in sports, featured in the peach-colored pages of the Sunday paper and a smaller section on weekdays.  My mom had taught me letters and phonics. Sid Hartman did the rest. He was the perfect writer for an ambitious five-year-old. He still is.

12.  I had accidents in first grade. Some people assume deep psychological reasons for six-year-olds doing this. This is incorrect. My memory is clear. Here’s the thinking: I have to go. I’m supposed to raise my hand. But if I raise my hand, everybody will know I have to go. Too embarrassing. I really, really have to go. I should raise my hand. No, too embarrassing. It will also be embarrassing if I wet my pants. But maybe nobody will notice this time. Yes, I definitely think I can hide it this time. So certain embarrassment right now? Or possible embarrassment later? I’ll take my chances.

13. Some of us had Miss Hackenmueller in second grade. She was the daughter of the fifth-grade teacher, Mrs. Hackenmueller. But we only had her until Christmas. After Christmas she was gone. Someone much older, and not as nice we thought, Mrs. James, took her place.  We kids weren’t told reasons, and the reasons don’t matter, but it was a confusing, disruptive year. I think they compensated a lot of us by assigning us to the wonderful Mrs. Redding for 3rd grade.

14. Do you remember inseparable friends? At various points certain kids seemed like peas in a pod, always together. Gary Hipwell and Kevin Simondet in early years. Paul Schoenecker and Bob Denman. Others. I’m ashamed I can’t make a single observation about the girls in this regard. The girls seemed to live in a parallel universe. They were interesting, especially as time went on, but their ways were mysterious. I had no insight into their friendships, no capacity to observe their world accurately.

15. From time to time Jeanne Krieger would tease me about not liking girls. I had announced this in her presence in 5^th or early 6^th grade, trying to craft a persona as a rugged man’s man. Not liking girls wasn’t remotely true. The rugged man’s man part was obviously very true. (Rugged man’s man, president of the room 302 chapter of Dominic Savio Club). Anyway, I had to stick to my guns thereafter.  Since Jeanne was pretty much the only girl who ever talked to me, even if it was only to tease me, I liked it. A lot. I “liked” her. As we got deep into 7^th grade the teasing stopped. I realized she was tired of it, had moved on. Oh well. She did save me once in Mr. Bonine’s 7^th-grade social studies class when he asked if anybody knew what an illegitimate child was. Jeanne and I were the only ones to raise our hands. He called on her. She answered correctly. I’d been reading the phrase, illegitimate child, for years and somehow thought it referred to a child with a handicap. Mr. Bonine could be cutting. If he had called on me instead of Jeanne and let me give my answer, he’d have speculated aloud about the possibility of my having a mental handicap. So Jim, does this answer mean you’re illegitimate?

Wow! A picture from the early 60s of me! I think I look the same, maybe taller. It's like stepping into Mr. Peabody's Wayback Machine. 50 years goes by fast. I remember Sister John Francis as being a formidable teacher, especially since she could hit and throw balls as well as any boy. I was a bit of an outsider, not part of the cool sports group. I remember being divided into groups for class based on ability/scores. We weren't fooled, we knew what our abilities/rankings were. I was in the advanced group for English and History and in the Not Advanced group for Math and Science. Sometimes you just don't get it at the time. I eventually finished medical school so the whole math/science thing resolved itself.

I remember Barb Roach as being Uber-smart although I did win against her in a spelling contest once. Over the years, I ran into Kelly Behrendt, Mike Garten, Mary Walsh at various times. Several of us went to Benilde, now Benilde-St.Margaret's. A couple of years ago, Dan Traun and I ended up in the same near-downtown restaurant. Jeff Hylden and I did Boy Scouts. I eventually became a Scoutmaster at our parish in Fargo and can sleep outdoors anywhere/anytime/any temperature. Monsigner Colbert was also a formidable man, and one who never liked the Boy Scouts for some reason. When we were Altar Boys, I was in the rectory after school one day for something and to my surprise discovered Monsigner smoked cigars! I didn't think priests were allowed to do that?

Hearing the stories recalls many memories. It will be great to see people in person this summer and fill in the blanks. Joe Burns

Ended up being some of my best friends for life.  I miss climbing out windows to go to Clark Gas Station for 33 cent smokes.

I have to say that I have a terrible memory, so I’m hoping at least I got my seventh grade teachers name right...he seemed very large and intimidating to me, although, I knew he meant no harm somehow? Danny Traun, (sorry Dan, but that’s what I called you back then), and I sat next to each other, and “Yellow Submarine” by the Beatles was popular at that time....Danny decided to sing his own cartoon type version of the lyrics to that song under his breath, and I lost it with the giggles.... Mr. Bodine warned me once to stop, and the second warning was him taking my whole desk up to the front of the class to be stationed there until I stopped the laughing...It didn’t stop, especially when he pulled Danny’s desk up front too,....Detention,... first and only time....but it was worth it!😁

I wish this page let you respond or comment but since it doesn't, let me just add a new story as my comment.

I was one of the boys who jumped out the window!  It was so cool - we had to sneak back in the door, down the hall, into the coat room, and back to our desks or else!!!!

Annunciation is so full of stories -- I can relate to all of the ones posted here so far!

Annunciation was a great school, but it took me until I was well into my 30s to realize that!  I attended the 25th anniversary with my 1st wife who since died of cancer at the age of 53 (so sad!) and might be bringing my new wife of 4 years to the 50th.  Life deals us lots of good and bad, and I truly believe that Annunciation gave me the tools to deal with both!

Hope to see all of you there in August!

Couple memories:

• I remember math class (Sr. Cyrillus?), in the "new" west addition to the school on the ground floor.  The boys in the back of the classroom would open the last window and when she wasn't looking, jump out the window into the convent garden. Then they would stroll back into class and confuse the hell out of her.
• I also remember how mad she got when she couldn't find the erasers.  I could see them because I sat in the back of the class and all the erasers were on top of the hanging florescent lights.
• Oh Yeah, again in 8th grade I remember the language nun (can't remember her name but she had a huge busom - maybe Sr. Luetta?).  Anyway, she was yelling at the class for what I thought was no good reason. So I stood up and told her to stop yelling, then I ran off to the girls bathroom crying for some stupid reason.  She came into the bathroom and took me into her arms for a big hug - I nearly suffocated!  Anyway, she said she understood I was upset because my brother had just left to serve in Vietnam.  I was sure that wasn't the reason - I was just angry at her for yelling at us.  She took me back to class and although I was purple with embarassment, she carried on as if nothing happened.  Kinda cool for a nun.
• I remember walking to school with Kenny Stuckmeyer - he was the shortest boy in our class and I was one of the tallest girls.  He was a really nice guy.

. . . and there was Sister Lorcan's obituary. So instead of a letter to my first-grade teacher I sent a contribution to the community in her memory. I learned (because I have communicated lightly with them ever since) that much of the limited income of the Sinsinawa Dominicans now goes to caring for their now mostly old sisters, our teachers, who gave their lives to our upbringing, some better at it than others but all sacrificing a great deal for us and kids like us. Here’s the website, where you’ll find a link to make a donation if you wish: https://www.sinsinawa.org.

10. The photo was taken by Sister Lorvan in her classroom (106) in December 1961. It's obviously Christmastime. The boys, from back to front, are John Dvorak, Mike McMullen, Jimmy Delehanty, and Tommy Burns. Katie Perrier is there, and Sally Ferguson, both looking the same as they did every year (and this is a compliment). I think I recognize Mary Ghizoni but I'm not sure of it. Maybe somebody can fill in the gaps.

As a recent retiree used to writing, I haven't been able to resist putting down several recollections. I hope it's not too much.

1. Boys on the playground called each other by last names only. Long ones like mine were shortened (I was Dela, Kalinowski was Kal or Kow). Once Greg Pietig called my house and asked for Dela. He knew my phone number but not my first name.

2. In second and third grade gangs of boys would link hands and maraud around the playground chanting, “Hey, hey, get out of our way. We just got back from the U.S.A.” This drove me to distraction. I was a literalist. It made no sense. They were already in the U.S.A.

3. I never knew what a baldy was, but baldies were the rage among the 4^th-grade boys. Something about razor blades in the toes of their bumpers.  What did baldies and their bumpers have to do other aspects of the sudden fashion sensitivity of the 9- and 10-year boys of Annunciation? The trim/slim pants, button-down shirts with loops on the back, thin black belts, high black socks, and black wing-tip shoes? Was this also baldy attire? I never figured it out. My parents weren’t buying me special clothes anyway. A few boys who were all-in on fashion also possessed garters, yes, garters, to help hold up those high black socks. Randy Evans, I’m thinking of you. Donn Anderson too.

4. There was always so much I didn’t understand. If you were an eldest child like I was, or if your parents came recently to the city from farms like mine had, youth culture in Minneapolis in the 1960s was a foreign country and you were navigating on your own without instruments.

5. Bob Coleman, who moved to Florida after sixth grade and is now a lawyer there, was supposedly the fastest boy. I knew I was faster but he would never race me. It took me years to understand that fastest boy really just meant most popular boy. Of course he wasn’t going to race a nonentity like me. I should add that there was another boy in our class for a few years who was definitely faster than either of us, or anybody else, but he didn’t seem to care that Coleman was officially fastest. He had long legs and was called Armitage. I’m sure he had a first name too.

6. Randy Evans, Armitage, Bob Coleman, Tim Robbie, somebody named Flaherty who came and went in the early years, somebody named Williams whose dad was the president of Creamettes and died, MacDougall (was it Steve?), McHugh: lots of people who seemed like core members of our class moved away. That’s what families did in those days. Others took their places. Our most exotic late arrival was Anne Burke, supposedly all the way from Ireland, but she was so shy she never talked. We couldn’t listen to her accent.

7. In the summer before first grade I was invited many times to play at the house of Miguel Contreras, who lived a block away with his uncle, a tailor originally from Mexico, and his aunt, who was a Minnesotan. Miguel had just arrived from Mexico. I enjoyed going there because the uncle and aunt were the nicest people in the world. Playing with Miguel was fine but he never talked. I was only five years old. I didn’t understand that his parents in Mexico had sent him to live with his uncle and aunt for eight years so that he could attend Annunciation grade school and learn English well enough to go back and have a career interpreting for tourists. By fourth or fifth grade he spoke English perfectly and felt at home and we started calling him Mike. Before that we called him Miguel. Without exception we pronounced it McHale.

8. Was anybody else’s most harrowing experience at Annunciation the eighth-grade Halloween dance? I desperately wanted to dance with some girl, any girl, some girls especially, but I knew this wasn’t going to happen. A boy had to ask a girl to dance. Pathetically, at the same time I also desperately wanted to be out trick-or-treating. That was a miserable evening, which still makes me shudder.

9. Along with Mrs. Redding, Sister Lorcan was my favorite teacher. A few years ago I gave a talk at Edgewood High School in Madison, which I knew was a Sinsinawa Dominican institution. I met an older nun there and asked her if by chance she knew Sister Lorcan. She did. Sister Lorcan was alive and now went by Sister Mary Keilly. She urged me to write. I did not get around to it, but a year later thought I would. I went to the Sinsinawa website for the address and there was Sister Lorcan’s obit

I can't remember who originated the idea (proabably Schoenecker!) but in 7th grade, the cool thing to do was to make a very small paper airplane (about 3 inches long) and insert a needle into the nose of the plane. Then, we would fling the plane at the ceiling in our classroom where it would stick because of the pin insert. I remember looking at the ceiling one day and there seemed to be dozens of little paper airplanes stuck in the ceiling. The nuns went crazy and our days of sticking planes in the ceiling ended quickly!

On a Friday night after floor hockey, a group of us climbed into a window in the back of the auditorium stage we had unlocked earlier in the day. The carnival was still set up and the cafeteria kitchen had a popcorn machine. We turned on the lights a started making popcorn at 10pm. I went into the dark auditorium to check out the carnival prizes - especially the wooden canes with the ceramic handles shaped like animal heads or baseballs. To my surprise and horror, Sister Marie Catherine was standing in the far doorway, backlit like an angel. She was no angel and yelled to for me to come to her and that she had called the police. We were busted - almost! All of us beat cheeks out the foyer door and waited innocently for the cops. We helped the cops discover the open window and suggested that must have been the access point for older kids - probably high schoolers.