Enjoy!
The Mom Song- LIVE from Northland Video on Vimeo.
source
Friday, November 21, 2008
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Emergency Loop
Just received this email from Pam Kirkwood and if you can help, thanks so much.
Hi there Loopers...
We would imagine you are all making ready for next week's Thanksgiving Holidays...We would ask you to remember all of those who have lost so much in last weekend's devistating fires here in Southern California.
Specifically, we have 2 classmates who lost their entire home in a matter of minutes last Saturday night. Cheryl Dibble BHS '64 and her sister Pam Dibble '65 lived at the Mobile Home Park in Sylmar that was almost totally destroyed...Pam and Cheryl got out with only the clothes on their backs, their pets and a couple of important items. Everything is GONE!
I just talked to Cher this morning. They are temporarily staying with an old friend from High School, Phill Hayes '65...Cher related to me the horrors of Saturday night...What a nightmare for all...They will probably be going back tomorrow to sift through the rubble and ashes...
I told her that in these times, we all have to help each other. She said that "prayers" were what they needed most and I told her that went without question. I told her that I would alert the "Loop" and we would see what happens.
Cher was able to buy some clothes and the insurance company told her to keep all of her receipts...We are thinking that probably the most useful things to help them get back on their feet would either be cash donations or gift cards...If any of you feel you can help, please send your donations to:
Cheryl and Pam Dibble
c/o Phill Hays
26588 Shakespeare Lane
Stevenson Ranch, CA 91381
Cher can be reached on her cell phone:
(818) 205-5876
They managed to get their laptop out when they evacuated and can receive email at cwolf11@ca.rr.com
Not sure how often they check it, as they are still pretty much in shock and are busy contacting insurance companies and figuring out what to do next.
Thank you for your prayers and any help you might be able to give, Loopers...
Take care and a Blessed Thanksgiving to you and yours...
Love, Pam and Jon
Hi there Loopers...
We would imagine you are all making ready for next week's Thanksgiving Holidays...We would ask you to remember all of those who have lost so much in last weekend's devistating fires here in Southern California.
Specifically, we have 2 classmates who lost their entire home in a matter of minutes last Saturday night. Cheryl Dibble BHS '64 and her sister Pam Dibble '65 lived at the Mobile Home Park in Sylmar that was almost totally destroyed...Pam and Cheryl got out with only the clothes on their backs, their pets and a couple of important items. Everything is GONE!
I just talked to Cher this morning. They are temporarily staying with an old friend from High School, Phill Hayes '65...Cher related to me the horrors of Saturday night...What a nightmare for all...They will probably be going back tomorrow to sift through the rubble and ashes...
I told her that in these times, we all have to help each other. She said that "prayers" were what they needed most and I told her that went without question. I told her that I would alert the "Loop" and we would see what happens.
Cher was able to buy some clothes and the insurance company told her to keep all of her receipts...We are thinking that probably the most useful things to help them get back on their feet would either be cash donations or gift cards...If any of you feel you can help, please send your donations to:
Cheryl and Pam Dibble
c/o Phill Hays
26588 Shakespeare Lane
Stevenson Ranch, CA 91381
Cher can be reached on her cell phone:
(818) 205-5876
They managed to get their laptop out when they evacuated and can receive email at cwolf11@ca.rr.com
Not sure how often they check it, as they are still pretty much in shock and are busy contacting insurance companies and figuring out what to do next.
Thank you for your prayers and any help you might be able to give, Loopers...
Take care and a Blessed Thanksgiving to you and yours...
Love, Pam and Jon
Saturday, November 15, 2008
More California Fires
November 16, 2008 UPDATE
CLICK HERE to see maps showing locations of the fires.
We continue to pray for families and firemen and women who may be in harms way.
View Larger Map
Original Post
Folks, let's continue to pray for safety and protection for those in danger of fire. Just received this email from Cathy Nicholls Coyle:
Subject: The Sayer Fire is threatening Santa Clarita!
Hey CP: We are being threatened by fire again! We were suppose to go to a Memorial in Burbank this morning but couldn't go because they closed the 5, 14 and 210 Freeways. We would have to go to Ventura and then drive back to Burbank....
Attached is the Santa Clarita Emergency Notification link:
City of Santa Clarita Emergency Information
Photos from Cathy's backyard
source
View Larger Map
MORE VIDEOS
source
source
CLICK HERE to see maps showing locations of the fires.
We continue to pray for families and firemen and women who may be in harms way.
View Larger Map
Original Post
Folks, let's continue to pray for safety and protection for those in danger of fire. Just received this email from Cathy Nicholls Coyle:
Subject: The Sayer Fire is threatening Santa Clarita!
Hey CP: We are being threatened by fire again! We were suppose to go to a Memorial in Burbank this morning but couldn't go because they closed the 5, 14 and 210 Freeways. We would have to go to Ventura and then drive back to Burbank....
Attached is the Santa Clarita Emergency Notification link:
City of Santa Clarita Emergency Information
Photos from Cathy's backyard
source
View Larger Map
MORE VIDEOS
source
source
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Veteran's Day Memorial Ceremony
Thanks Cathy and thanks Mike!!
Hey CP:
Yesterday at the Veteran's Day Ceremony at McCambridge Park I ran into Mike McDaniel, BHS Class of 74, and co-author of the Burbankia website.
He had a wonderful display of World War I uniforms.
He said that it was the first time ever for these uniforms to be displayed.
In July 1917, 177 Burbank men registered for the draft. In September, they reported to American Lake in Washington for training. Mike has found the names of 84 of those men. The list is posted below:
Since Burbank did not keep good records during this time, Mike is hoping that maybe one of our BHS alumni may know other names that he could add to this World War I Veterans list. If you do, please email your information to Mike McDaniel at mmcdaniel@ci.burbank.ca.us.
Thanks!
Cathy NIcholls Coyle
Hey CP:
Yesterday at the Veteran's Day Ceremony at McCambridge Park I ran into Mike McDaniel, BHS Class of 74, and co-author of the Burbankia website.
He had a wonderful display of World War I uniforms.
He said that it was the first time ever for these uniforms to be displayed.
In July 1917, 177 Burbank men registered for the draft. In September, they reported to American Lake in Washington for training. Mike has found the names of 84 of those men. The list is posted below:
Since Burbank did not keep good records during this time, Mike is hoping that maybe one of our BHS alumni may know other names that he could add to this World War I Veterans list. If you do, please email your information to Mike McDaniel at mmcdaniel@ci.burbank.ca.us.
Thanks!
Cathy NIcholls Coyle
Classic 60's TV: George Carlin
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Linda Muruz, class of '66, sent out an email tonight to her class which included a link to the following article on high school reunions which I hope you enjoy as much as I did!
Forty years after high school, a famed writer finds...
You Can Go Home Again
By James Grady
Parade Magazine
Publication Date: 09/28/2008
source
This year, 8 million Americans are expected to attend their high school reunions—even though a national survey says 65% of reunion attendees don’t want to go through those years again.
Personally, I couldn’t wait to escape adolescence, to be somebody besides that gawky kid in my graduation photo. Yet, strangely enough, I’m one of those eager faces who showed up at my high school reunion. So why did I—and the 7,999,999 other people—go back?
This July, I finally found out, when I flew to my hometown of Shelby, Mont., to attend a reunion for everyone who went to its lone high school during the 1960s.
My rental car cruised into town along Main Street, where people called me Jimmy, not the James on my business cards today. The Roxy movie theater now has a brick façade, not there when my father was its manager. Old stores are gone, and vacant windows reflect little traffic.
I saw the white box house where I grew up. How could it have been so small? I drove past the home of my unrequited adolescent crush, Linda, wondering if she and her husband would come to the reunion. Sprinklers hissed on the football field where I learned how to get knocked down, get up, and get knocked down again. And looming at the edge of town was the sprawling two-story pink cement building—my high school.
On Friday night, each of the graduating classes met at designated taverns. My 1967 class had 87 boys and girls. A third of my classmates and some spouses (not mine, who declined with a smile) gathered at the Tap Room, a wood-paneled bar decorated with a class banner.
Amid squeals and laughter, I met friends wearing name tags that we sometimes needed. We swapped data about work, children, grandchildren, and what happened to our parents. Heartaches were related in stoic sentences, and nobody—nobody—whined.
We snapped pictures. We marveled at who went to prison and whose environmental entrepreneurship might help save the world. We were proud that Sandy, the woman voted “Most Likely To Succeed,” is now a counselor helping veterans cope with post-traumatic stress disorder. We spoke gently about our own strung-out alums who were not there but whom we hoped still might recover. Nobody dwelled on politics or religion. E-mail addresses got jotted on the back of motel receipts. We kept scanning the crowd to see who came. (Linda and her husband didn’t make it.)
What struck everyone I talked with is how little we actually knew back then. Lorna, a university staffer who was voted “Most Representative” of our class, told me: “We didn’t know who we were.” Nutritionist Mary Jeanne, who’d been voted “Best All Around,” said that she secretly thought she was the only one who was “scared and didn’t have a clue.”
None of us knew that one of the seemingly happiest guys in our class spent his nights using his fists to save his younger sister and mother from his stepfather’s beatings. Now a successful local businessman, he told me: “I thought that’s how it was for everybody.”
Reunions change reality. As one celebrant remarked, “The 10-year reunion is about impressing your former peers—showing them, and perhaps yourself, that you made it. By the 20th reunion, you get to just be yourself.”
Eleven years ago, at our 30th reunion, Wally sought out Randy. He had always felt a special connection, though they’d never dated. He walked up to her and said, “I came to see you.” Then he walked away. “I was so scared,” Randy told me. Two years later, she and Wally married, and they’re still going strong.
Gary, one of the reunion organizers who never left Shelby, whistled for the crowd in the Tap Room to quiet down. His voice trembled as he read the list of those forever gone: “Mike Jodrey, Rick Mauritson, Sue Turner…” We cheered for each name, but we didn’t cry. Instead, our emotions came out in the classic high school reunion hugs—hugs from someone you treasure more now than before. The hug from the woman you can’t remember who says she’d know you anywhere. The hug from an old girlfriend who was so right to dump you, the hugs of those who once shared hairbrushes in the girls’ room. Gene the airline tycoon hugged Kirby the family farmer. Sid the professor hugged Jesse the truck driver.
The hug meant we’re still here.
Driving to the airport, I felt valued and validated, glad I had gone, gladder to be returning home. I clicked on my left blinker. Like any experienced motorist, I checked my mirrors—and saw my old pink high school.
Just one last glance, and then it was gone.
James Grady is the author of “Six Days of the Condor.” His latest novel is “Mad Dogs.”
Forty years after high school, a famed writer finds...
You Can Go Home Again
By James Grady
Parade Magazine
Publication Date: 09/28/2008
source
This year, 8 million Americans are expected to attend their high school reunions—even though a national survey says 65% of reunion attendees don’t want to go through those years again.
Personally, I couldn’t wait to escape adolescence, to be somebody besides that gawky kid in my graduation photo. Yet, strangely enough, I’m one of those eager faces who showed up at my high school reunion. So why did I—and the 7,999,999 other people—go back?
This July, I finally found out, when I flew to my hometown of Shelby, Mont., to attend a reunion for everyone who went to its lone high school during the 1960s.
My rental car cruised into town along Main Street, where people called me Jimmy, not the James on my business cards today. The Roxy movie theater now has a brick façade, not there when my father was its manager. Old stores are gone, and vacant windows reflect little traffic.
I saw the white box house where I grew up. How could it have been so small? I drove past the home of my unrequited adolescent crush, Linda, wondering if she and her husband would come to the reunion. Sprinklers hissed on the football field where I learned how to get knocked down, get up, and get knocked down again. And looming at the edge of town was the sprawling two-story pink cement building—my high school.
On Friday night, each of the graduating classes met at designated taverns. My 1967 class had 87 boys and girls. A third of my classmates and some spouses (not mine, who declined with a smile) gathered at the Tap Room, a wood-paneled bar decorated with a class banner.
Amid squeals and laughter, I met friends wearing name tags that we sometimes needed. We swapped data about work, children, grandchildren, and what happened to our parents. Heartaches were related in stoic sentences, and nobody—nobody—whined.
We snapped pictures. We marveled at who went to prison and whose environmental entrepreneurship might help save the world. We were proud that Sandy, the woman voted “Most Likely To Succeed,” is now a counselor helping veterans cope with post-traumatic stress disorder. We spoke gently about our own strung-out alums who were not there but whom we hoped still might recover. Nobody dwelled on politics or religion. E-mail addresses got jotted on the back of motel receipts. We kept scanning the crowd to see who came. (Linda and her husband didn’t make it.)
What struck everyone I talked with is how little we actually knew back then. Lorna, a university staffer who was voted “Most Representative” of our class, told me: “We didn’t know who we were.” Nutritionist Mary Jeanne, who’d been voted “Best All Around,” said that she secretly thought she was the only one who was “scared and didn’t have a clue.”
None of us knew that one of the seemingly happiest guys in our class spent his nights using his fists to save his younger sister and mother from his stepfather’s beatings. Now a successful local businessman, he told me: “I thought that’s how it was for everybody.”
Reunions change reality. As one celebrant remarked, “The 10-year reunion is about impressing your former peers—showing them, and perhaps yourself, that you made it. By the 20th reunion, you get to just be yourself.”
Eleven years ago, at our 30th reunion, Wally sought out Randy. He had always felt a special connection, though they’d never dated. He walked up to her and said, “I came to see you.” Then he walked away. “I was so scared,” Randy told me. Two years later, she and Wally married, and they’re still going strong.
Gary, one of the reunion organizers who never left Shelby, whistled for the crowd in the Tap Room to quiet down. His voice trembled as he read the list of those forever gone: “Mike Jodrey, Rick Mauritson, Sue Turner…” We cheered for each name, but we didn’t cry. Instead, our emotions came out in the classic high school reunion hugs—hugs from someone you treasure more now than before. The hug from the woman you can’t remember who says she’d know you anywhere. The hug from an old girlfriend who was so right to dump you, the hugs of those who once shared hairbrushes in the girls’ room. Gene the airline tycoon hugged Kirby the family farmer. Sid the professor hugged Jesse the truck driver.
The hug meant we’re still here.
Driving to the airport, I felt valued and validated, glad I had gone, gladder to be returning home. I clicked on my left blinker. Like any experienced motorist, I checked my mirrors—and saw my old pink high school.
Just one last glance, and then it was gone.
James Grady is the author of “Six Days of the Condor.” His latest novel is “Mad Dogs.”
Friday, November 7, 2008
Vintage Photos of Burbank
Found the following old photos while surfing the internet...
BHS 1950
Source
Olive Street 1940
source
Aerial Trolley Car
source
Burbank Public Library - Built 1935
source
Burbank Train Station
source
Terminal Drive-In Restaruatnt outside Lockhhed Air Terminal, Burbank 1940
source
Air Jamaica stewardesses demonstrate the L-1011 at Lockheed plant in Burbank, 1969
source
BHS 1950
Source
Olive Street 1940
source
Aerial Trolley Car
source
Burbank Public Library - Built 1935
source
Burbank Train Station
source
Terminal Drive-In Restaruatnt outside Lockhhed Air Terminal, Burbank 1940
source
Air Jamaica stewardesses demonstrate the L-1011 at Lockheed plant in Burbank, 1969
source
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