I was a sort of nerdy girl in high school, but I wouldn’t say I was especially smart. Good grades came easily due to my ability to memorize facts until test time. Then, most of everything I should have learned somehow evaporated out of my brain after the test was finished and the grade was secured.
Because of good grades, I was nominated to positions in the Student Council and actually served in all of them, but I can’t remember doing anything momentous. The thing I remember most was the campaigning and making signs to post around school imploring kids to vote for me. I loved to draw. One sign I made for treasurer, an acronym on the word, I can almost see right now. T is for trustworthy, R is for reliability, E is for exactness and so forth and so on. I was selected valedictorian of my class, gave a high-flung speech at my graduation ceremony, and I suspect I felt a little too proud of myself. Even now, on a bookcase in my living room, I display that President’s Student Council gavel in the hope it will bring some credence to my current brain power which seems to be shrinking as I age.
I was never very good at anything athletic. During PE if a ball came toward me when I was in the outfield, my first response was to put both hands in front of my face. I had fear of the ball syndrome. Field hockey was the same. Instead of trying to stop the puck that was flying toward me, I jumped over it. And getting that close to guard someone in basketball? I always kept my distance. So if I was chosen to be on a team, it was because of my brain not my brawn. The one athletic thing I did go out and received a letter for was cheerleading and that was only in my junior year of high school. I quickly decided the popularity aspect did not outweigh the physical activity required.
I went to our senior prom with the class president and remember being so sunburned from the previous day’s class trip to the beach that I could barely bend my ankles to walk let alone dance, but somehow I managed and the evening is a very fond memory. My date was nothing serious but of course when you’re seventeen, you think it is. A few years ago I had a catch-up email with him (now married with children and grandchildren of his own) and he proclaimed that he would not change one thing about his school days…which made me sort of happy to hear as I was part of them. Shortly after graduation, he left for naval training in the Great Lakes and in the fall, I left for the U of Delaware in Newark (not Newark, N.J.). He visited a few times while on leave, but we were all different then with the passing of time and circumstances.
At Delaware, being on my own, I became somewhat irresponsible. I left assignments to the last minute, barely studied for tests until the night before, loved Friday night dances, concerts, and pep rallies, and according to my waist size spent a little too much time eating chocolate fudge sundaes at the Student Center’s food court. I think we called it the Scrounge back then, and maybe they still call it that. My grades reflected my behavior. I realized my newfound liberty would soon be a thing of the past if I didn’t change my ways. So with the guidance of my upperclassman roommate, I changed my behavior, but I never really got in sync with higher education requirements.
I was enrolled in a secondary education program, a goal set by my high school guidance counselor, and my lackluster attitude may have resulted from this. Teaching a high school class was not my passion. In fact, I didn’t have a passion. But I managed to successfully struggle through my first year with mediocre grades.
Four of us in my dorm, Harrington D (just a coincidence that it was my hometown’s name) became fast friends almost immediately. My roommate, Ellen, was from Wilmington and in her second year majoring in statistics. Funny, but I don’t remember where Gerry was from or her area of study, but her roommate, Dale Coe, was from Evinston, Illinois. Delaware was her second choice after she didn’t get into Northwestern. Dale had a boyfriend at Dartmouth, and she never stopped talking about Winter Carnival and the snow sculptures. I listened in awe and never tired of her stories.
In 2010 I read of Dale’s passing…Dale Schultz, nee Coe, 65, of Kenilworth, passed away May 2. She was born Oct. 30, 1944, in Evanston and was a former resident of Libertyville. Surviving are her three children, Craig Schultz, Courtney Schultz, and Tim Schultz; her grandson, Logan Schultz; sisters, Debbie (Doug) Reed and Sally (George) Bay. A Memorial Service will be held at the First Presbyterian Church, 700 N. Sheridan Rd., Lake Forest on Friday, May 14, at 4 p.m. Info: 847-362-3009.
I had not spoken with her since my freshman year and wondered if Schultz was the Dartmouth boyfriend’s name. 65 - that was young. At school she could have stood in for the all-American girl, looking healthy as the proverbial horse and I never remember her being sick or missing any classes.
I keep in touch with Ellen (my former roommate) on Facebook. She lives in Naples and is a watercolor artist, married with children and grandchildren, and she still looks like Ellen. I think I would recognize her anywhere.
I tried to look up Gerry on Google but found nothing, funny that I don’t remember anything about her after hanging out together for a year. I do remember that she was the most studious of all of us.
Growing up, we think school is where we will learn everything we need to get through life successfully, but that is so not true. Learning never stops. I’m learning things right now at this very moment, today. In fact, I could be learning something that might turn out to be the most important thing in my life, so I will pay attention. I wouldn’t want to miss it.
