Remember when ...
Nov 14, 2008 | 86 views | 0 0 comments | 1 1 recommendations | email to a friend | print
In preparation for our upcoming 50-year reunion at St. Ed’s, a group of us began pulling long-forgotten photos out of crumbling scrapbooks. Some were funny, some nostalgic.

For the most part, things hadn’t changed that much until returning class members started asking questions like “where did so and so’s house used to be” and “whatever happened to...?”

You take the changing scenery for granted because you were here when it changed. But to return after 50 years, it’s got to be culture shock.

We came across a picture of the Stanislaus Wyble home in our search-and-sort project.

It was located directly across the street from what is today the elementary playground and the playground was where we held the annual homecoming bonfire.

It was held if you could find a football player who’s dad would let him use a truck to find and haul scrap lumber to the field for the cheerleaders.

The field was also where the end-of-the-school year Field Day was held. That was a massacre from the get-go.

The last day of school was usually less than a week off, so there was no worry that any football or track and field star would be injured before “the big game”.

That gave way to year-long rivalries that could finally be settled. And many were.

The nuns were kept busy breaking up fights. I can still see their long black habits covered in dust.

And you never knew what unexpected treat would show up. Like the year that Tookie came to field day with one of his toes in a jar of formaldehyde.

Due to an unknown incident, it ended up in a jar and thrilled every one attending. Well, almost everyone.

The Wybles not only lived across the street from school but had at least four of their offspring who became teachers. Two of them taught me (or at least tried to teach me something).

Coach Gerald Wyble was not only a teacher but was football coach as well. He was my freshman homeroom teacher and I was lucky enough to have had Miss Lucille Wyble as my third-grade teacher back at old EHS.

Mr. Wyble himself was mayor of Eunice for quite a few terms.

The house was one of the earliest in Eunice and was built off the ground and had a screened porch around three sides.

In the days before air-conditioned comfort, this process of manufacture gave way to great cross-ventilation and kept the old home places rather cool.

The house had a very regal manor about it as I recall.

One little black-and-white snapshot from a Brownie box camera and you get a truck load of memories. How lucky can you get?

Georgie Manuel.

November 16, 2008.
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