Thirty years have gone by since we were all in high school together, and as time passes, so do friends.
Webster's defines reunion as "a meeting of persons after separation". It is a time to greet old friends, and to celebrate both the past and the present. As we look forward to our reunion, and remember the past together, we also have an opportunity to collectively remember those who have passed on. Each of us must look back in our own way...
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Please note that some of the information on this page was gathered via word of mouth or "second-hand". We simply do not have the resources to always confirm the accuracy of such information. If there are any mistakes herein, we apologize in advance. We ask all of you, to keep all of us, as well-informed as possible. Thank-you.
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| Kenneth Bassett |
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Is there not an appointed time to man upon earth? His days are determined, the number of his months is with thee, and thou has appointed his bounds that he cannot pass.
Job vii, 1; xiv, 5.
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| Wayne Bohringer |
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The law...is to enter mortal bodies and after certain prescribed periods be again set free.
Philo of Alexandria
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| Linda Cerone |
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Behold, thou hast made my days as an handbreadth.
Psalm xxxix, 5.
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| Mark Connor |
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Life and death are simply a going forth and a coming back...Things that have been endowed with life die; but that which produces life itself never comes to an end.
Lieh Tse, i.
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| Harry DiPietro |
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Souls departing hence exist there, and return hither again.
Plato. Phaedo (70).
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| Donna Gilbert |
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The world is afflicted with death and decay, therefore the wise do not grieve, knowing the terms of the world.
Sutta-Nipata, iii, 8, 8.
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| Beth Lochtefeld |
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Or ever the silver cord be loosed, or the golden bowl be broken, or the pitcher be broken at the fountain, or the wheel broken at the cistern. Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was: and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it.
Ecclesiastes xii: 6, 7.
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| Diane Marie Nicastro |
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The doctrine of the Essenes is that souls are united to their bodies as in prisons, ...but that when they are set free from the bonds of the flesh, they then, as released from a long bondage, rejoice and mount upwards.
Josephus. Wars of the Jews, ii, 8, 11.
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| Patrick O'Neill |
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So shall I fight, so shall I tread,
In this long war beneath the stars;
So shall a glory wreathe my head,
So shall I faint and show the scars,
Until this case, this clogging mould,
Be smithied all to kingly gold.
John Masefield. A Creed.
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| Chris Perry |
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Death is a cessation from the impression of the senses, the tyranny of the passions, the error of the mind, and the servitude of the body.
Marcus Aurelius. Meditations, vi, 26.
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| Eddie Reilly |
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The door is opened...to the place from which thou camest--to things friendly and akin to thee, to the elements of Being. Whatever in thee was of fire, shall go to fire; of earth to earth; of air to air; of water to water.
Epictetus. Dissertations, iii, 13.
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| Tommy Scordato |
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For ye are not come unto the mount that might be touched, and that burned with fire, nor unto blackness, and darkness, and tempest...But ye are come unto Mount Sion, and unto the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to an innumerable company of angels.
St. Paul. Hebrews xii, 18-22.
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| Rob Smith |
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Death is one or other of two things: either it is such that the dead man is annihilated...when death would be an extraordinary gain....But if, on the contrary, death be a sort of travelling from hence to another place, and what is reported to be true, that all the dead are there, what greater blessing can there be than this?
Plato. Apology of Socrates, xxxii.
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| Gus Sotillo |
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Birth is not a beginning, death is not an end.
Kwang Tse, xxiii, 9.
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| Ruben Sotillo |
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In the sight of the unwise they seemed to die: and their departure is taken for misery, and their going from us to be utter destruction: but they are in peace.
Wisdom of Solomon iii, 2-3.
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| John Vallorosi |
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He shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways. They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest thou dash thy foot against a stone.
Psalm xci, 11.
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| Eric Van Etten |
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Thou art an actor in a play, of such a part as it may please the director to assign thee; of a short part if he choose a short part, of a long part if he choose a long part.
Epictetus. Encheiridon, xvii.
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| Jon Walther |
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He hath said, I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.
St. Paul. Hebrews xiii, 5.
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| Roger Zellner |
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We are the ghosts of the departed,
Souls of those who once were with you...
Cries of grief and lamentation...
Cries of anguish from the living...
Sadden us with useless sorrow.
Longfellow. The Song of Hiawatha, xix.
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I grew up with John Vallorosi. We lived in the same neighborhood together. He was fiercely protective of his two younger brothers, a trait I greatly admired. John was voted Friendliest and Kindest in our senior class poll. It was an honor well earned.
I remember Gus Sotillo’s quick and easy smile. One day at practice I ran into him as hard as I could. When I opened my eyes all I saw was the sun, and then Gussy leaning over me, grinning wide. “Are you okay?” he asked. Gus was a loyal friend, made tough by the kicks and blows of life.
Gus’ brother Rubin moved with the grace and strength of a natural athlete. He didn’t so much walk down the hall, as glide. He was capable in so many ways, yet seemingly unaware of, and unaffected by his many abilities.
Once upon a time Eddie Reilly was my very best friend. We spent a perfect summer together just before our senior year. I look forward to meeting him again, someday.
This Memorial is intended to be a living, growing one. It will be an individual yet collective reminiscence of our classmates. If you wish you may post your own thoughts, memories, stories, photos, Prayers…
August 21, 2008
JS
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Beth was special. She was the girl that entered the room and lit it up. She was smart and vivacious and genuine. You just wanted to be around her. I knew Beth since first grade. We were good pals at Van Cort and I have wonderful memories of climbing trees, making forts and being in her house on Oregon Road. I can still picture her kitchen and the windy stairs to her bedroom that she shared with her sister Cathy. Her mom was our girl scout leader and being a Girl Scout was our big secret in middle and high school. While we moved into different circles after elementary school I never felt 'dropped' by Beth. Plus we had the bond of German class. Beth signed my yearbook with her exuberant scrawl; taking a full page to recount our friendship with every word in German. I spent time at the 20th reunion talking with her, easily picking up the threads of our friendship and laughing and enjoying the evening.
I visited her grave this past summer on Nantucket; I spent some time with her parents and brothers and sister. Beth had a spirit in her that shined with a rare intensity; it warmed and illuminated people fortunate enough to know her. Then she was gone. I miss her. It won't seem right having a reunion without her. I hope to honor her by remembering her spirit.
Immer deine,
Patti Engel-Sambrana
November 1, 2008
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WAYNE BOHRINGER WAS A VERY SPECIAL PERSON.
HE WAS SHY. THAT IS WHAT WAS SO SPECIAL ABOUT HIM.
HE WAS CARING, UNDERSTANDING, AND WOULD GIVE YOU THE SHIRT OFF OF HIS BACK.
HE HAD SUCH A PASSION TO PLEASE AND TO MAKE EVERYONE FEEL SPECIAL.
I ENJOYED THE CHANCE TO BE HIS FRIEND AND I AM SAD THAT HE IS GONE.
GOD BLESS YOU WAYNE.
GRACE BENARY (ECKERT)
NOVEMBER 9, 2008
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My friendship with Wayne started as a fight while getting on the bus at Lakeland Middle. We punched each other in the nose over a girl we sat next to in 7th grade science class. A few days later he came up to me and apologized. We became very good friends and one I felt comfortable around. Funny how those little things begin friendships. Wayne was a true friend. I think about all of us as we progressed together through grade, middle and high school as we’ve shared so many years together. I will always remember Wayne as one of the true friends he was to all that knew him.
Robert Lent
April 24, 2009
John Vallorosi was one of the kindest and most genuine persons I had the opportunity to spend my early years with. Although we did not hang out with the same people, John never made me feel like the one who always sat in the back. There was always a kind word and a attempt to bring me into the conversation. John never had a classmate who did not admire and look up to him. I will remember always the conversation we had at the 20th reunion. It was as though we had never left high school and still the gentle man he always was. John you are missed by all.
Robert Lent
April 24, 2009
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| My best friends in high school were Diane Nicastro, Rose Calcutti, and Liz Mitchell. I knew then how fun and wonderful these “girls” were but it wasn’t until later in my life that I realized what a precious and rare gift they were as friends. I never found a group like them again. What I remember most about them is that they were some of the funniest, warmest and most genuine people I would ever have the pleasure of meeting. We spent a lot of time together and most of it was spent laughing! These young women were glorious to me! I have now and did then have a particularly tender place in my heart for Diane. While most kids run around in an egocentric state and don’t seem to be able to appreciate their family until after they have grown and left their house, Diane was never like that. She knew way back then how important family is. When I think of us at 14 or 15 years of age I remember clearly how open she was about how much she adored her Father, loved her Mother, and admired her Brother. She talked about them all of the time and was always considerate of them. She would not do things if she thought they would somehow hurt any one of the members of her family. Whenever I was in their home (which was often) you could feel the sincerity in their relationship and you wanted to be part of it. It broke my heart to learn of her passing because I don’t think I ever told her how much she meant to me or how much I admired her family values, her warm sense of humor, and her friendship. I send my deepest prayers and thoughts to her family and look forward to seeing Diane in Heaven one day.
Mary Givens
March 12, 2010
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We moved from downtown Peekskill (a one-bedroom apartment above my uncle's deli on Washington Street) to the "burbs" when I was four. It was November, and my mom arranged for me to start kindergarten early (I would turn five in December), at the George Washington Elementary School.
I was scared to death. It was my first day of school, I was technically still four years old, and I had no idea my mom wasn't staying with me. I thought she was starting school on that day, too. When she let go of my hand and walked away I let out an awful howl.
They sat me at a table where the other kids were drawing Thanksgiving turkeys. I made a break for the door and was restrained. The next day I actually made it out of the door, but they caught me again. I tried to escape every day for a long while.
There was a kid at my table who soon became my friend. He was bigger than me, and kind of looked out for me. I remember we both liked to draw dinosaurs. During recess I would run around and around and around the gym and playground, and he would chase me until we both fell exhausted to the ground, giggling and laughing the whole time. His name was Tommy Scordato. Soon enough I had no interest in trying to escape.
Tommy and I were in the same first-grade class, too. Mrs. Barker, I think, and it was more of the same only better: dinosaurs and recess and giggling and laughter, seemingly the whole time. And we had so much fun, and probably got in so much trouble, that we were never put in the same class together again.
That was it; they separated us for good. Odd as it seems, I don't remember seeing Tommy at all for the rest of Elementary School. Or even through Middle School. But I never forgot how much fun we had.
A bunch of us played in the Shrub Oak Little League Football Program in the 5th, 6th, 7th and 8th grades. Many starters on the Panas Varsity learned how to play as pee-wees in Shrub Oak.
I was in the 8th grade, and a running back for "USC". We were playing "Army". The play called for me to take a fake handoff from the quarterback, and run into the line to draw off tacklers from the actual ball-carrier. It worked well, and as I ran into the "one-hole" (between the center and left guard) I was immediately tackled hard to the ground by a big guy on defense. Opening my eyes, I found myself looking directly at Tommy Scordato. Our facemasks were touching, that's how close we were, and he had me in a big bear hug, just like when we were little kids.
"Hey, John" he said, "nice fake". "Hey, Tommy" I said, "nice tackle". And then we began to giggle.
JS
October 15, 2010
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Pat O'Neill and I did not run in exactly the same circles in high school, as he was way, way too smart for me. Brilliant might be a better description of Pat O'Neill. I remember when he spoke in class, some of us just stared with our mouths open, sort of wondering how he did that. There is an old Chinese saying: "You cannot speak of the ocean to a well-frog." Most of us were well-frogs next to Pat. That being said, he never made one feel so. Ever. I remember Pat as quiet, unassuming, and humble. And strong.
Here's something that always stuck with me about Pat: Our senior season he came out for the football team, for the first time. It's not an easy thing to do, to try out for and make a good football team in one's last year of high school, not having played at all previously. We were a tight-knit group by then; we had all played together since grade school, and we knew each other's strengths and weaknesses. Most of the starting spots were locked up: the coaches, and the players, knew who was going to play where.
Pat walked on, he made the team, and he won a starting position. He did it through hard work--very hard work. Grit and determination are two words that come to mind. He not only had to learn all of the plays from scratch (we had been running them for years), he had to do it under a microscope, overcoming the coaches' and the player's pre-conceptions (misconceptions, actually).
Most of us vastly underestimated what Pat O'Neill could do on the football field. As he was in the classroom, he was on the field: above the rest.
To be an offensive and defensive lineman is to be in a virtual war; hand-to-hand combat, each and every play, down in the mud and the dirt. I clearly remember looking at Pat in the huddle after the plays (his spot was always directly across from me). I can see him, even now: his eyes narrowed, sharply focused, and alert; his jaw and mouth hard, firmly set. Sweating. No emotion, none whatsoever. Other guys, you'd see the fear, the uncertainty, the trepidation. Not so with Pat. I used to think, "How cool, he's a Warrior-Scholar: Intelligence, Calmness, Courage and Strength. What a combination! I'm glad he's on my team."
And I was, I really was.
JS
November 28, 2011
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Life is a voyage that's homeward bound.
Herman Melville
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