Carol Dierking Burlinson Tells Her Story

I moved from California to Arizona in fifth grade, when my divorced mother died and my dad was given custody. When I transferred from Hayden to Ray in 1965, sophomore year, I missed the first day of school. The next morning, first thing, I blew a pop quiz in Mr. Taft's class. I was mortified. I was a Smart Kid, I didn't flunk tests. Taft told me, "you'll be okay." I was inwardly focused, reserved, quiet, hard to get to know, but he encouraged me. I liked him a lot.

After high school I earned a BA in anthropology and a Master of Library Science from the University of Arizona, married in '74, and in '75 moved to College Station, Texas, for my husband's job at A&M. Two years later we moved to Austin and we've been here ever since. I worked 14 years at university libraries and the Texas State Library; some of these jobs I liked, but others? They were just for the money. Contrary to image, most librarians are people oriented, but me - I was an introvert in a social profession. Then in 1989 I got my dream job in the research library of Radian International, an environmental engineering firm. That was my "bliss" work experience - challenging, absorbing, and most important, I believed in what I was doing. When it ended in a buyout in '99, I began working part time for the school system, subbing in school libraries. It's worthwhile also, but I'm winding it down now.

We never wanted kids. Then, in our thirties, we decided we'd go for it after all. That's how, in 1985, we came to adopt a four-month-old son from Korea, Jake. Do I even need to say he's been the light of our lives? He's 24 now, currently at Ft. Rucker, Alabama, training to be a medevac pilot. When he finishes that, he'll be joining the Texas Department of Public Safety and flying for the Texas National Guard. He says he wants a family of his own someday, but he's too busy right now. So I hope grandkids are in the future. That's what you get for putting off parenthood :)

Over the years my hobbies have been reading (of course!), ballet, voice, and guitar. I once took acting and auditioned for a bit part as a killer in a low budget film noir, but that was the end of my movie career. Nowadays, I've given up ballet and guitar due to injuries, but as an amateur mystery writer, I spend a lot of time thinking up ways to murder people.

I've been a lifelong learner and in addition to writing I read mysteries, fantasy, humor, and nonfiction such as history, religion, politics, and the natural sciences. I do some yoga, a little gardening, birdwatching, collect perfume, and enjoy going out with friends. Unlike me, my husband of 35 years has not slowed down much. His job with the state health department is as demanding as ever, but if we're lucky, we get away for the occasional day or weekend trip. Austin is a unique city for Texas, and while the "Keep Austin Weird" bumper stickers are probably wishful thinking, it's still weird enough for me. I love this town.

Dumbest thing I ever did? Not selling when the Dow was at 14,000. Smartest thing? Hooking up with my two fellas - marrying John and adopting Jake.

Russ Cooper Tells His Story

Except for a stint in the army, my dad was a lifelong Kennecott guy. He and Mom were both only children who grew up in Hurley, New Mexico, where both of their dads also worked for Kennecott. My brother (Paul '72) and I were both born in Salt Lake City (more Kennecott) a few years before we all moved to Hayden. When the house we lived in there found itself in the way of the long conveyor belt that now runs between the crusher and the mill, we moved to Kearny to avoid being bulldozed off the hill. That was in either late 1958 or early 1959.

Kearny (a planned community!) was brand new then, with streets of mud, no fences separating the lots, and a hopeful little mulberry tree in each front yard for landscaping. A bunch of us went to third grade in a portable building that also served as a Baptist church. A real school, paved streets, chain link fences, and many acres of bermuda grass all followed soon enough.

One of my more interesting high school memories is from the very first week or two of my freshman year. That was the first year that the kids from Dudleyville and the other communities south of Hayden were bussed over to Kearny to go to school. So suddenly, instead of everybody already knowing everybody on day one because we had all grown up together, there was this odd "us" (the Kearny kids) and "them" (the Hayden kids) thing going on that none of us had ever experienced before. Obviously, "they" were going through exactly the same thing, except that they must certainly have had "us" and "them" totally backwards!

This whole thing was especially strange for me because I had gone through first and second grade in Hayden with some of some of "them." So a handful of these foreign invaders were actually my friends from a few years earlier. Audrey Burnam, Clarine Brandt, and Art Young come to mind. Long after any notion of "us" and "them" had been forgotten completely, Art and I wound up in the same chemistry class at the university in Tucson. I also remember running into Audrey at some sort of farewell shindig when we were all about to graduate. That was kind of cool.

I learned enough vocabulary at U of A to get an engineering job with Honeywell in Phoenix. Then I learned enough engineering at Honeywell to eventually set myself up as a freelance nerd for hire. That kept me about 110% busy writing embedded microcontroller firmware and PC programs right up until 9/11. Things kind of slacked off starting on 9/12 (literally), and I've been exploring the distinctions between semi-retired, retired, and just plain unemployed ever since. I like "semi-retired" the best. Fortunately, that's the way it's been going for the past few years.

In mid 1978 I bought a brand new Ford Mustang II. It was bright orange with a white top, black interior carpet, and black, orange, and yellow plaid upholstery on the seats. Whoa! Talk about your understated style and grace. That car was it. Well, far too soon after I got this fine vehicle, the girlfriend got somewhat more friendly and we wound up getting married later that year. That very strongly reinforced my great theory that you gotta have great wheels if you want to get the girl. Mysteriously, though, she continued to hang around even after we got rid of that car. Imagine that. I guess either my great theory was completely wrong, or else the Mustang wasn't so hot after all and what she really liked was my boat.

Carol was a music teacher when we met. Then she got a computer science degree and worked for Intel for a while. Then she got enough credentials to be a pastor for a while. Now (2009) she's just finished up a program to learn ASL interpreting. I don't know what she wants to be when she grows up.

Progeny: None. Hobbies: Flying (no longer) and woodworking (more and more). Ridiculous websites: http://www.ibab.org. Residence: Phoenix.

Bearcats Tell Their Stories

So, what's your story? Everybody has one. And believe it or not, other folks are every bit as interested in yours as you are in theirs. So, why not take a few minutes and tell everyone what you've been up to, like these folks have done already:

• Carol Dierking Burlinson
• Russ Cooper
• Kathy Linsley Farrell
• Clarine Brandt Haslag
  
• Kathy Case Kangas
• Bob Kelahan
  
• Steve Kuykendall
• Alex and Becky Manriquez
  
• Jim Porcher
• James and Nola Rupert

Yeah, I know, it's tough. You're looking at a blank piece of paper and saying to yourself, "Where do I start?" Well, here are a few questions just to get you going. Use any or all or none of them. And feel free to add other stuff you think of that's not here.

• Where did your parents come from?
• How did they (and you) wind up in Kearny?
• What is your first memory of Ray High?
• What did you do after high school?
• What was your best job?
• What was the smartest thing you ever did?
• What was the dumbest thing you ever did?
• Where do you live now?
• What are you doing now?
• How 'bout those good looking kids and grandkids of yours?
  

Got your story all written up? Good--send it! Got pictures of yourself or your family or your prize-winning '78 Bonneville restoration? Send 'em! Got a link to a website or a blog of your own? Include that, too! Where to? rrrmac@gmail.com. Thanks.

Bearcats Yak It Up

Want to leave a note for your fellow Bearcats? This is the place! Leave a comment here to ask a question, tell everyone how life's been treating you, or maybe just say, "Hi!"

General chit-chat is fine, but you probably don't want to include any contact information in your comments, lest the spammers rain their torment upon you for the rest of your days. For that (contact info, not torment), shoot an email to Tessie Ozuna '69 at tsozuna@cox.net. She'll add you to her growing list of alumni, and/or help you find someone you're looking for.

Steve Kuykendall Tells Another Moving VW Story

Roy Woods drove a Volkwagen beetle (If my memory serves me it was Roy's - although it seems that Mrs. Kelso also drove a VW, so not sure.) and always parked it right in front of the office. The locker room, which was covered by a roof but open on the sides, had a raised concrete section in the center with no lockers. One morning a bunch of us football players (we were the state champs that year by the way - 1966) had a great idea. We went out and picked up the VW and carried it through the wide doorway into the locker room and high centered it on the concrete platform. We then went back to class. I was in Mr. Crowell's trig class and could see the locker room through the windows. Pretty soon one of the girls walked by and stopped with her mouth open, and then ran to the office to notify Mr. Woods. Soon they were all out of the office and staring at the car, scratching their heads.

A few minutes later Mrs. Endsley announced over the intercom that the football team needed to come to the office. Some witness had squealed. We headed to the office and Mr. Woods walked us out to the car and asked us to move it back out to the parking lot. He took it with reasonable humor and didn't place anyone on detention. We carried the car back to its original location and nothing more was said.

Decades-Old Mystery Remains Unsolved

One fine day in the late '60s, Ray High's first-hour band class arrived ready to toot their horns, only to find themselves unsupervised because the band director, Mr. Davidson, was missing in action. They all tried to keep occupied by warming up their instruments, ending their endless conversations, or trying to catch a few extra zzzzz’s ... all while, in the background, Lance Giroux’s fingers were burning up a storm as he warmed up to Rimsky Korsakov’s Flight of the Bumblebee.

Apparently, a band (cough, cough ... get it? b-a-n-d?) of our peers had gone, under cover of darkness, to Mr. Davidson’s house and managed to corner his little bug--his Volkswagen, that is--in the carport. One can only imagine Mr. Davidson’s expression when he exited his home to find that he couldn't drive to school because his VW had somehow levitated and lighted itself such that there was no way he could drive it out. Heh, heh.

The mystery surrounding this incident remains to this day. However, the statute of limitations on such pranks has surely expired, and we now call upon the masterminds who conceived and executed this brilliant plan to step forward, admit responsibility, and claim the glory that is rightfully theirs.

Whose idea was this? When did it happen? Where did the planning occur (e.g., at the park by the swimming pool, Bob’s Drive-in, or by the swinging bridge)? “Sing it sister … or brother!!” Who do we thank for starting what could have been a rather mundane day with some sweet excitement?

If you were involved, you owe it to your comrades to click on the "comments" link below and fess up. If you weren't involved, but you know who was, you can click on the "comments" link below and rat on your friends. If you have no clue, click on the "comments" link anyway to see what the others are saying.

The Blogmeister Explains Comments

An imaginary visitor asks:
How do I leave a comment?

The blogmeister replies:
Glad you asked! One of the great features of this blog is that you and other visitors (both real and imaginary) can chime in with your own thoughts and opinions. After each post, you'll see some posting details (e.g., Posted by RMAC AT 11:18 AM 2 Comments). To read the comments that others have left, just click on the word "comments", and they will magically appear.

Want to leave a comment of your own? You can do that, too! Here's how:

• As before, click on "comments".
• Scroll down beyond any existing comments until you see the box labeled "Post a Comment."
• Click inside the box, then type your comment.
• Below the box, click the arrow on the box labeled "Comment as:"

If you want to sign the comment with your name, click on the "Name/URL" selection, type your name where it says "Name", then click "Continue". Or, if you're really shy or want to create some mystery around your comment, just click on "Anonymous."

• Click on the "Post Comment" button to publish your comment on the blog. That's it!

We really hope that you will participate by leaving comments. However you might as well know that we monitor each and every one, and will cheerfully and with great enthusiasm delete all comments that are objectionable in any way. So just be nice, and please don't try to spam the blog. Okay? Okay.

Still have a question? Shoot an email to rrrmac@gmail.com and we'll try to sort it out.