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Class of 1976 - Class Prophecy as written by Henry J. Aschbrenner - TeacherThe year is 1990. I was sitting in my lounging chair thinking back to that great eighth grade class at St. John's Lutheran School back in 1976. What ever happened to them? This played on my mind so much that I felt I just had to go back to the Napa Valley and see if I could locate the illustrious members of that class. I was sure this would be no easy task. On the way into town on Highway 29, I saw a billboard advertising Todd's Body Shop. The name Todd rang a bell with me so I felt it my duty to investigate more clearly and closely. Sure enough, the shop belonged to Todd Jamison. He was manufacturing a specific type of suntan lotion that was guaranteed to tan even the most sensitive skin. Todd informed me that playing in Napa tonight was a great rock group that was fast becoming nationally known. The name, "Ricci's Rippeling Ripples." This I gotta see! That evening I went to see "Ricci's Rippeling Ripples," and talked to their leader, Craig, after the concert. I asked him if he knew whatever happened to his good friend Jeff Langford. Craig filled me in. Seems Jeff was off in Africa again for the third time in the past two years leading a big game safari. Seems Jeff has decided to put girls totally out of his life forever and spend his time taking wealthy little old ladies on "Big Game Hunts." The next day I got up early and decided to go up to Vintage 1870 and see what that place looked like after 14 years. My special place had always been the art gallery on the second floor of the main building so I went up there first. They were featuring a one-man show this particular day; advertised as one of the world's greatest up and coming artists was none other than Greg Skinner. He was specializing in what they call "spittle art." A dab of paint is put on the end of a drinking straw and then, with great accuracy and force, it is propelled onto the canvas with the mouth. I must say Greg, the designs were something to behold indeed! That afternoon, I noticed that they were advertising a big track meet over in Santa Rosa featuring the United States Professional Track Team. That should be fun, I thought, so off to Santa Rosa I went. How elated and surprised I was to see that two members of the 1976 St. John's graduating class were on the team. Eric Crow was their greatest middle distance runner. I went up to Eric before one of his big races to get some more information. Eric told me that he had so much practice running laps at St. John's, that he really grew to love it, so here he was. He especially liked those races in which he had to run in the neighborhood of six laps. Also on the team was a very successful high jumper by the name of Philip Gruenhagen. Seems the Fosbury Flop is no longer the way to high jump. Most world renowned high jumpers have adopted Philip's unique style, called the, "Pointer Dog Leg Out and Over." On the way back to Napa in the evening I stopped in Sonoma to attend the summer concert of that world famous Valley of the Moon Symphony. Playing solo flute with the symphony that evening was none other than Susan Rachy. I asked Susan after the concert what had happened to the other girls in her class. Susan informed me that Meg Rose was now President of Sonoma State University. She had recently made national headlines as being the first President of a California State University to join a student protest group against the University. Susan further related that Janet Russell finally saw the light in mathematics and was now serving on Meg's staff at the university as a faculty consultant in the area of "hard to grasp" Mathematics. Going back to Napa that evening after Susan's concert I was stopped for speeding on Highway 12 by none other than Karen Westberg. Despite my apprehension I couldn't help but smile when Karen told me that she enjoyed being Captain of the school patrol back at St. John's so much that she decided to make police work her life's vocation. She was now a captain with the California State Highway Patrol. The time had come for me to leave the Napa Valley once more. I went to that great county airport south of town to catch my shuttle plane back to San Francisco when who should I see in the lobby waiting room? None other than Curtis Rogneby, who had a very sullen face. I couldn't help but wonder what was wrong. After quite some silence Curtis finally told me that he was an executive with a big electronics firm in Napa and he was sent to Los Angeles to close a big business deal, but he was late and missed his plane, and he was sure the deal would now fall through and he didn't know how to go back into town and face his boss. I couldn't help but say to Curtis, "Fourteen years may have come and gone, but things really haven't changed much after all, have they?" With that, I could see my own plane loading on the runway. It was time to bid a final farewell to Curtis and board my plane. |
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