|Wayne Henry Bigham||June 22, 2021 09:10pm|
|Hope we can submit more graffiti on our website.|
|Charles Awalt||March 26, 2010 05:10pm|
|Jan Keen Hull's original article in the Fort Worth Star-Telegram 1982.
1982 Fort Worth Star-Telegram JUNE 30-JULY 1, 1982 NEIGHBORHOOD EXTRA/SOUTH-SOUTHWEST
'62 was the end of an era for Paschal
"Of all the traditions Wyatt established, probably his Paschal Honor System was the most notable. Never had any high school in Fort Worth incorporated such a unique code of student cooperation, respect and loyalty."
—Jan Keen Hull
EDITOR'S NOTE — In celebrating the 20th reunion of the Paschal Class of 1962, a member of the class was asked to share her memories. The following is Jan Keen Hull's recollection of her senior year.
By JAN KEEN HULL
Loyal alumni, traveling from as far as Spain, will return to join old schoolmates in reliving the '60s at Paschal High School.
When the seniors of 1962 left Paschal, Principal O.D. Wyatt retired. It was the end of an era.
Those who went to Paschal during his reign know how synonymous the name O.D. Wyatt is with the institution itself.
Of all the traditions Wyatt established, probably his Paschal Honor System was the most notable. Never had any high school in Fort Worth incorporated such a unique code of student cooperation, respect and loyalty.
Under the Wyatt Honor System, there were no detention halls, no demerit system, no tardy bells, and no teachers on duty in the lunchroom or halls. Paschal students were on their honor not to abuse their freedoms. The system worked so well, that Wyatt often remarked that only two percent of his student body would ever abuse this privilege. The words "two-percenter" became the Paschal phrase for lack of school pride.
All Paschal freshmen were indoctrinated into the Honor System during Howdy Week. Usually a skit, depicting an unloyal two-percenter opened the first pep rally. Though it was all In fun. it left a lasting impression to newcomers that they had arrived in "O.D. Land" and if tradition, loyalty, and school spirit were not their thing, it was time to shape up or ship out.
Wyatt never entered the auditorium for an assembly without the entire student body rising in respect. As a new freshman, I remember having a feeling of awe and curiosity about this little man who actually had faith in kids like us.
Stardust was Paschal's theme song through the years, even though by 1962, the song was a little out of date with the rock and roll age. But it was Wyatt's favorite and a memorial to his son who had been killed in WWII.
Please see For Paschal on Page 2
2 1982 Fort Worth Star-Telegram JUNE 30-JULY 1, 1982 NEIGHBORHOOD EXTRA/SOUTH-SOUTHWEST
For Paschal, '62 ended Wyatt's era
Continued from Page 1
We listened to Stardust every day. I think we heard every version. On the day of a big football game it was our signal to change classes. At times we thought it was corny, but if it was Wyatt's song, it was all right by us. Besides, it was Paschal tradition.
The pep rally was Wyatt's sounding hoard for the Paschal spirit he exuded. The Silent Yell was his favorite and is still the traditional cheer at Paschal today. We spelled out Paschal Panthers with a long, silent pause between each letter. Wyatt took this silent yell very seriously, intolerant of any noise during it. If there was a fake sneeze, cough, or giggle during the silent pause (usually those same two percenters) he would signal the yell to start over.
When the cheers were loud enough to shake the hanging light fixture on the auditorium ceiling, the reward was to skip fifth period classes. Even the two percenters appreciated this gesture, as it allowed extra time to sneak a quick cigarette in the parking lot.
The parking lot was guarded by Wyatt's "boys," the posse. In their white shirts and black cowboy hats, they looked the part. I don't think it mattered to Wyatt if there were a few two percenters in this group.
The posse and the cheerleaders had no problem building school
spirit our senior year. The Booster Club and the O.Dettes (spirit club formed by Patsy Prewitt (Wood)) were outstanding. Our football team under Coach Bill Allen went all the way to the semi-finals, losing a heart breaker to Wichita Falls (and Larry Shields).
The basketball team squeaked by the Arlington Heights tea-sippers to win district. The track boys dominated at the district meet, winning yet another victory. The ROTC and Paschal Band also took honors during the year of '62.1 think we were also in the running for the sports warship trophy, but one of our male cheerleaders tackled a football player from the sidelines during the Wichita Falls game. (A little school spirit went a long way back then.)
The Class of '62 boasts that Wyatt retired with our class because he was certain Paschal would never be the same when we no longer walked the halls. Whether this is true or not, (you can be sure) his legacy will be honored at our upcoming reunion. A portrait of Wyatt, painted by class artist Sherry Clark, will be presented during a program at Shady Oaks Country Club.
As the doors of Paschal closed that Spring 1962, it may have seemed like the end of any other school year, but it ended an era for R.L. Paschal High School and for those who shared the dreams of O.D. Wyatt.
|Allen Mccorstin||February 24, 2010 04:08pm|
|I love First Monday.|
I look forward to seeing old friends and making new ones, which is what First Monday is all about. I get to meet people with whom I never had a class or whose path, for some reason, I never crossed.
I asked one of our classmates if she were going to attend any of our reunions, or even First Monday. Her answer was adamant. "No. I don't want to see those people as old people. I want to remember them as young people, like they were when I knew them."
Well . . . I love seeing us older, grown up, and - oddly -- I don't seem to notice many differences. Sure, some of us have some wrinkles or a bit more weight or a bit of silver on our noggins or maybe even less on our noggins, but by and large, when I look at Paul Ray or Donna Lamberson or Rick Bender or Anita Alexander I still pretty much see the Paul and Donna and Rick and Anita of 1962, only more deepened and informed, perhaps what we might have called "mellow" back in '68.
So while there might be some difference in how we look, the best of all is getting to know how we have changed "underneath." Life has treated some of us well and some not so well, but it has not left any of us untouched OR uninteresting. The stories of our journeys to become what we are today is the best part of First Monday, that "getting to know" part.
Take Anita, for example: It's been my good fortune to meet her as an adult and to discover that we have things in common. She's no longer just that beautiful girl who scared me because she was such a beautiful girl: she's now a beautiful woman whose good sense and insights into life have provided me valuable lessons, such as how to deal with adult children.
I also like being in the company of people who enjoy each other's company.
For example, if you want to be enthralled and laugh your behind off, sidle up to Kenny Pounds, and listen to him talk about life as a defense attorney: his tales of hookers and bikers and just plain vanilla killers are right out of Damon Runyon. And it's not just Kenny.
Jim Marrs is our class's most prolific writer, surely the only one of us whose work has been used in a movie. I did not meet Lance Cobb in school, but I will venture to say that he was our best all-around athlete. I have found him to be an extremely polite and thoughtful man. He works on Wall Street and at a recent First Monday told me a fascinating story about a group of traders who did not necessarily have their clients' best interests at heart.
Ask Claxton about the dead cat he had to carry around. Ask Sue about flying upside down in an automobile.
So come on. Invite yourself in. Chat it up, introduce yourself, say "hi." Share the stories of all those highways and byways, all those You Can't Take It With You moments. We must have more than one.
I don't know who created First Monday but I thank them. I look forward to every one I can attend and to attending for years to come. I look forward to catching up, to getting to know all of us better. And we can thank First Monday for that wonderful privilege.
|Wayne Bigham||February 15, 2010 01:23pm|
|Dear Classmates: Lance Cobb sent me information that our 'famous' classmate, Richard Rainwater is being honored by the Stanford Business School Alumni Association in Stanford, California. Richard has been an independent investor since 1986. He founded ENSCO International Inc., and co-founded Columbia Hospital Corporation. He also formed Crescent Real Estate Equities, Inc. in 1994, and has been purchasing Texas real estate since 1990. Richard remained CEO until August of 2007 when the company was sold. He spends much of his time playing golf and staying financially active. The award is the very prestigious, "ARBUCKLE AWARD", and will be given to Richard at the Ernest C. Arbuckle Award Dinner on Wednesday, February 17, 2010. Cocktails at 6:30 P.M., and Dinner begins at 7:30. Invitations only, but I understand you can contact Jessica Christie at: 650.724.2709 for more information. Some of the past recipients are: The Lord Browne of Madingley, Sloan '81 Robert M. Bass, MBA '68 Charles R. Schwab, MBA '61 George P. Shultz, Sec. of State Congratulations to Richard! You make us proud! Go Panthers!! -PHS '62 website|
|Charles Awalt||November 05, 2009 09:31pm|
|Mike McCorstin wrote:
And so, we all grew up.
But first, we had to be sophomores at Paschal High School, and that was 50 years ago this past September. Fifty years! That I would be an adult longer than I would be a kid never crossed my mind, so engaged was I with homework, Bill Allen’s football team, wondering what Little Theater would offer next, working on the Pantherette, trying to avoid Charlie Turner’s ire, wishing that a girl named Pat would go to Carlson’s with me on a Friday night.
And then, along came life.
College or a full-time job or the military? College and a part-time job? Your parents dropping you off and driving away, your mother dabbing at her eyes. Fraternity rush. Sorority rush. Having to make 93 on the final to earn a D in College Algebra and doing it! What to major in? Meeting a girl. Meeting a boy. Losing your virginity. Breaking up. Getting back together. Meeting someone who might be “right.” Those Saturdays you paid a dollar to watch Breakfast at Tiffany’s or The Guns of Navarone at the TCU or the Hollywood or the Palace or the Seventh Street . Senior-year draft notices. Graduation. Finding a job. Meeting people like you’d never met before: we called them Negroes or Mexicans or Orientals or Indians. Different people at college and at work or in the service, people not like the people you grew up with – Yankees from the Bronx and farm boys from the Deep South and surfers from Malibu . Leaving a job to live in a commune. Realizing that, all along, your parents knew more about what you were doing and thinking than you thought. Mustering out of the service or dropping out of graduate school and finding you’re a completely different person. The beautiful girl who said she would marry you, and then changing her mind three days later. Discovering that you really liked New York City and that little Italian place near the Park. Backpacking across Europe , your grandmother whispering Good for you, because she knows things, and she hands you a handkerchief with an emergency twenty dollar bill safety-pinned to a corner and, in her spidery hand, the inky name and number of a young man who served in the Welsh Guard with your grandfather. Meeting the Right Man, the Right Woman. Getting married or coming out. Negotiating your first car on your own. The 5 a.m. call: a buddy who survived Vietnam and jogged every day just died of a heart attack. Buying your first house: scary and, you find, never a reason NOT to be working on something. Finally knowing what love REALLY is when you hold your first-born for the first time. Knowing, in that moment, what you would fight for, die for. Diapers, Indian Guides and Indian Princesses, soccer games and parent conferences, Thanksgiving decorations made from coffee cans, recitals and rehearsals, so many you think they’ll never end. But they do. Moving to a different state to start a new job. Getting laid off. Finding a new job. Sometimes, divorce. Sometimes, the death of a spouse and the depression or alcohol that can follow, but returning to life with the help of people who love you. Sometimes, getting married again. Teenagers. Being driven nuts by teenagers. Being driven nuts by grown children who make the most absurd decisions and learning – sometimes the hard way – that there is not a thing you can do, not if you want them in your life. Granny’s funeral, the funerals of the parents of our friends, the funerals of our own parents, and then our funerals -- Steve and Jerry, Letty Lou and Curtis, Patricia and Suzanne. Going to a reunion and recalling the countless possibilities ahead of every 18-year-old and realizing on the drive home that we still have possibilities, too, lots of them, just different shades and kinds. Finding the things you loved and can still love to this very day: teaching, painting, selling, practicing medicine or the law, a life of music or dance or the stage, counting things, making things, growing things, writing things, serving God and serving others – ladling soup at the shelter, taking communion to nursing homes, being the only 65-year-old candy striper on your floor, putting away books at the library, finding love at the pound, changing a stranger’s flat, helping your yard man, who wants to earn a GED before he becomes a citizen, understand why X+2 equals 4. Remembering old loves and even praying for the health and good fortune of old loves. Going to reunions and hugging the first boy you ever kissed, the first girl you ever held hands with but not telling your spouse. Laughing and maybe laughing so hard you cry. Seeing your best friend who now lives in Minnesota , who has three grown children.
And now, here we are.
Perhaps time is more precious and we see it differently and use it more carefully, as if time were oregano, because we are reminded, every day, of our own mortality. The clichés are true, especially those about sunsets and red hats and the good china. Looking forward to reunions and First Mondays and visits with nice people you never met at Paschal, realizing you had friends you didn't know you had. Talking about your first boyfriend, a sweet little guy whom you did not know died 20 years ago. Seeing an old girlfriend and wondering how things might have turned out if . . . Now, grandchildren, retirement, Social Security, looking after our parents, sometimes having to make heart-rending decisions. All these things, all this life: dear classmates, now middle-aged and the last of us turning 65 this year. And, amid all the other blessings of our lives, we have each other to enjoy, beyond the wrinkles and the pounds and those things Granny called “liver spots.” Moments of admiration, moments of real respect for those who drove over the rocky roads and navigated the tough times. For all of us, blessed moments of sharing, genuine affection, and kindness. But first, we had to be sophomores at Paschal High School, and that was 50 years ago this past September. Fifty years!
And so, even so. We all grew up.
Allen (Mike) McCorstin October, 2009
|Charles Awalt||July 23, 2009 11:28pm|
|"Twitterature" -- the world's greatest books in 20 tweets. What do you suppose Goldie Ripper would think of that? In 50 years do you suppose our kids and grandkids will be talking about the classics of twitterature?|
|Wayne Bigham||March 04, 2009 11:10am|
|With great pleasure I am writing to announce that the Paschal Alumni Board has voted this evening to provide funding for the remaining shortfall in the Waken the Sleeping Panther beautification project. This action will allow the final phase of construction to begin (with the cooperation of our landscape contractor) as early as spring break, March 16, 2009. As you know if you have driven by 3001 Forest Park Blvd. in recent days, there has been much activity already, The building has been painted, sidewalks poured (a wonderful contribution from the City of Fort Worth), trees replaced, irrigation installed (thank you Price Hulsey, Alan Garcia, & everyone at Fort Worth Lawn Sprinkler!), thousands of native plants planted, decomposed granite placed in heavy walkway areas, light poles painted, trash receptacles installed, and benches for student seating installed. Quite an accomplishment to date! The better news is that the portion of work that involves construction can now commence. Within the next thirty to sixty days, we hope to have the final phase of the Waken the Sleeping Panther project complete. This phase will include several retaining walls to be constructed around the large live oak trees near the Paschal auditorium. These walls are designed to provide additional seating for students. Many new shrubs and ground cover plants will be added to further enhance the beauty of the project. This project has only been possible because of the cooperation of the Fort Worth ISD, the City of Fort Worth, the administration of Paschal High School, the Paschal PTA, our campus neighbors, the Panther Student Body, and of course, an amazing group of alumni who have opened their hearts and their pocketbooks to make this project a reality. While we still have much to accomplish, I want to send special thanks to the Paschal PTA and in particular, Panther Mom Libby Manning who has donated more hours than we can count to bring this project together. Libby may not be a Panther but she absolutely bleeds purple. Thank you Libby for a job well done! We will have more communication in the coming days regarding our progress, a ribbon cutting ceremony, and more official thank you's for our many generous donors. In the meantime, thanks to all of you for your continued support of Paschal High School! Memories Ever... Kevin Medlinpaschalalumni@gmail.com817-881-2021|
|Charles Awalt||February 25, 2009 12:00am|
|If you haven't signed on to the Facebook "Paschal 62" Group link, DO IT! Some of the most interesting members of the class are already on board and posting cool pictures and interesting discussion topics. If you don't know how to navigate Facebook, Ronnie posted a link to some videos to show you how to do it.|
|Sue Howard||February 17, 2009 01:58pm|
|Well Janyth Rae, So glad that you could join us here at the website......very neat ...don't you think ! All the guys have done a wonderful job setting it up for us. We all just have to use it more. How are you ? We will all keep pestering you until you come for one of our "First Monday's". You could even be the "mystery guest" of the night. There must be a prize involved for being the "MG" of First Monday....So when can you come? See Ya, Martha Sue|
|Jan Owens||February 15, 2009 08:45pm|
|I have been blackmailed into participating in this incredible website because I wanted info about Medicare from a Monday night meeting. Wayne Henry said for me to get this info, I must go to my profile and join up. So, I joined up and found that there are all kinds of benefits from joining up! I will check in more often to see what's happening... It's good to hear from everyone...|
|Doug Smith||January 26, 2009 04:56pm|
|PHS '62- What memories! As I read these messages, it brings back the wonderful times we all had. I regret having been out of touch until the '02 Reunion, but it was good to renew many old acquaintances then. "Hail dear old Paschal, purple and white..."|
|Craig Kress||January 26, 2009 04:20pm|
|I have a rather unusual question to ask everyone about my high school girlfriend, Patsy Swan. She was a flute player in the band, and we went everywhere together. As most teenagers do, we were planning our future life together. In the Summer of '62, I left home to attend the University of Texas, and we had plans to be together often, whenever I returned to Ft. Worth. As strange as it seems now, we didn't call "long distance" much because it was too expensive, but Patsy and I wrote to each other...for a very short time. My roomate, Howard's, girlfriend also stayed to finish her Senior year at Paschal and as I remember (47 years later),she told Howard that Patsy had a new boyfriend...a few weeks after I'd left Ft. Worth!!! I was so distraught, I sent all of her photos back to her. And, I never saw her again. I have tried through the years to find her. I heard she dropped out of school; I heard she moved to Dallas; I heard she actually got married sometime soon after I left. But I don't know anything. I have always wondered about her. She was, and is I suppose, my "true love." If you know about Patsy, I would appreciate an e-mail. Thanks!|
|Wayne Bigham||November 30, 2008 07:41pm|
|The following text is from Betty Short -class of 1963 "How fortunate we were to be at Paschal when we were. What a special, magical time ! We have so many wonderful memories. Most significantly is Mr. Barr who encouraged fellow classmate, Ray Torres to take me out. We have been married 44 years and have 4 grown sons and one granddaughter. We still still keep in touch with him and love him dearly. We moved to Sacramento, California in 1965 and have been here since. I graduated from Sacramento State and became a teacher. I taught junior high and high school science for 32 years until retiring in 2005. Ray continued to play drums until he started dialysis in 2002. He still does some recordings now and then. We knew many of the 1962 alumni although we were not in that class. We were class of 1963. We would love to hear from any of you. Our email is email@example.com. Purple reign", Betty Short & Ray Torres '63|
|Wayne Bigham||October 20, 2008 08:06am|
|I recently visited the Texas State Fair in Dallas. As I was walking out of the fairgrounds, I saw several massive blocks of rose colored granite, etched with the names of those KIA in Viet Nam. This was a replica of that memorial found in Washington D.C. As I searched for Eddie Boyle's name among our heroes, a Viet Nam vet came up and helped me search and find his name. After locating it, he gave me a small American Flag to place by Eddie's name. This showed those visiting, that someone had found his name and perhaps had some private thoughts about this fallen soldier.Just thought I would share this very special moment and the photo with you all.|
|Mike Wall||October 14, 2008 11:20am|
|Do you have any information on the site that updates our class members, married, children, grandchildren and any other infomation classmates would like to share. The site is great and now that I am retired I have time to reunite with some old friends and maybe make some new ones.|
|Corky Elkins||September 29, 2008 08:08pm|
|Thank you Charles for walking me through this process.Wayne tried earlier, but I never could get in. The sight is wonderful, and you boys have done a great job! I still feel so close to my PHS classmates, and the "First Monday's" have helped keep those friendships renewed, and new friendships made. My days at Paschal seem so long ago, but the friendships are so currant. When I tell people about our great class of "62" they are so envious! We were lucky, and came around at a special time! My favorite teacher was Aubyn Kendall. She taught me things I didn't think I could learn, and came in early before school to help me. I couldn't spell, so flunked every test she gave me when I first came to her class. When she saw I had a big problem, she taught me how to use the dictionary. I was a senior, and no one else had recognized I had learning problems,"Dyslexia". I don't think it had a name yet. They just gave me art projects for extra credit to get my grades up enough to pass. She did unconventional things to find my learning style, and never made me feel stupid. I made an A- on my first English paper when I got to college, and guess what, no mispelled words! Mrs Kendall is gone now, but she will never be forgotten. Now where is spell check when I need it!|
|Leslie Gerolde||August 05, 2008 09:00pm|
|Mike - Wow! I thought I was a decent writer until I read your wonderful piece about all of us - I wept like a baby. I knew we were special, and I think about that fact frequently, but you really brought it home - thank you for such a wonderful summary of our lives! Wheneve I feel a bit uncertain or insecure I will dive into this wonderful website and read it again. THANK YOU!!!!!!! Leslie Gerolde|
|Anita Taylor||August 03, 2008 01:30pm|
|How wonderful that we can stay connected this way. We all have busy lives and some of us don't live here in Ft. Worth so we can still have this website to stay connected. Thanks, Wayne,Charles, and Mike for all your hard work to get this done. For those of us that live here in Ft. Worth or close by, we enjoy our monthly get-togethers so much. It's like time hasn't passed by so quickly. We can get together on a regular basis and share and laugh and relive great memories together and keep up with our lives now. Please come and join us when you can. We meet at individual's homes or nearby restaurants and there is a notice sent out each month. If you want to be included in the email just drop me an email at firstname.lastname@example.org|
|Susan Ellis||August 02, 2008 04:33pm|
|Terrific website guys --thanks for all you hard work....hope people will continue to stay connected in this very convenient way ! My Best Susan Ellis|
|Wayne Bigham||August 02, 2008 02:06am|
|THE CLASS REUNION ...or, 'What Another 5 Years May Bring'! Every ten years, (maybe even more often than that) An announcement arrives in the mail, A reunion is planned; it'll really be grand; Make plans to attend without fail. I'll never forget that first time we met; We tried so hard to impress We drove fancy cars, smoked big cigars, And wore our most elegant dress. It was quite an affair; the whole class was there. It was held at a fancy hotel. We wined, and we dined, and we acted refined, And everyone thought it was swell. The men all conversed about who had been first To achieve great fortune and fame. Meanwhile, their spouses described their fine houses And how beautiful their children became. The homecoming queen, who once had been lean, Now weighed in at one-ninety-six. The jocks who were there had all lost their hair, And the cheerleaders could no longer do kicks. No one had heard about the class nerd Who'd guided a spacecraft to the moon; Or poor little Jane, who was always so plain; She married a shipping tycoon. The boy we'd decreed 'most apt to succeed' Was serving ten years in the pen, While the one voted 'least' now was a priest; Just shows you can be wrong now and then. They awarded a prize to one of the guys Who seemed to have aged the least. Another was given to the grad who had driven The farthest to attend the feast. They took a class picture, a curious mixture Of beehives, crew cuts and wide ties. Tall, short, or skinny, the style was the mini; You never saw so many thighs. At our next get-together, no one cared whether They impressed their classmates or not. The mood was informal, a whol e lot more normal; But this time we'd all gone to pot. It was held out-of-doors, at the lake shores; We ate hamburgers, coleslaw, and beans. Then most of us lay around in the shade, In our comfortable T-shirts and jeans. By the fortieth year, it was abundantly clear , We were definitely 'over the hill'. Those who weren't dead had to crawl out of bed, And be home in time for their pill. And now I can't wait; they've finally set the date; Our fiftieth is coming, I'm told. It should be a ball, they've rented the hall At the Shady Rest Home for the old. Repairs have been made on my old hearing aid; My pacemaker's been turned up to 'high'. My wheelchair is oiled, and my teeth have been boiled; And I've bought a new wig and glass eye. I'm feeling quite hearty, and I'm ready to party I'm gonna dance 'til dawn's early light. It'll be lots of fun; But I just hope that there's one Other person who can make it that night. Author Unknown|
|Max Chennault||June 19, 2008 09:59pm|
|I called Mrs Lillian Bales a few days ago and had a very nice visit with her. She seemed to be very upbeat and, I think, really appreciated the call from a former student. I think she would be very encouraged at this time by calls from any of her former students.|
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