Friday, June 30, 2006


I don't know a whole lot about Mr. Rysticken. I believe his first name was Tom. He was a math teacher in high school. I never had him myself.

Meff had him in his freshman year. At one point, Mr. Rysticken told him that he needed to come see him after school for some extra help. But did they meet in the classroom? Oh no. Rysticken made him come down to the weight room - which was called "Hulk Hall." When Meff got down there, he found him doing bench presses. So in between grunting and sweating, Rysticken spewed out some wisdom about fractions or something. It was a surreal experience, to be sure.

Mr. Rysticken is the father of fellow graduate Craig Rysticken. In my senior year, Craig mentioned (in Mr. Schwantes' class) that his dad was furious at him for apparently losing the car keys. Craig denied that he'd lost them. But he made it clear that that was a battle he wasn't going to win.

Craig once told my friend Dave Svatek that he would sometimes fool around and wrestle with his father. It was mostly all in fun. But according to Craig (allegedly, according to what Dave told me) Mr. Rysticken would sometimes get a little too aggressive and really start going wild on Craig. Craig's childhood aggressive nature has been well documented in this blog. Perhaps it was an inherited trait. Who knows.

I believe that Mr. Rysticken has been retired for awhile now. I imagine he still lives in Two Rivers. In addition to Craig, Mr. Rysticken had a daughter - class of 1986's Kristine. Something tells me that Craig may have had a much younger sister too. I could be wrong about that though.


Yes indeed. The family and I are taking a vacation. Starting tomorrow, we will be spending one week in Williamsburg, Virginia. So I don't anticpate any blog entries between now and July 10th. But who knows.

In the interim, both Kim Nokes and Chris Staudinger told me that they will be stopping by the blog soon to leave comments of their own. So look for that. Vacation or not, if they comment while I'm gone, I'll make a post about it.



Ms. Kiel was a gym teacher. What was her first name? I don't recall where I saw her first. Was she the gym teacher at Magee? Yes, I think so. At that time, she was known as Ms. Kiel.

I don't have a whole lot of memories about her. She was decent enough to me. I had no problems with her at all.

Ms. Kiel reappeared in my life in high school. She was one of the three gym teachers we had. And by that time, she'd gotten married. She was now known as Mrs. Berg. However, during out junior year, that didn't stop Richard and I from constantly referring to her as "Mr. Berg." Yes, we were playing on the steroptypical notion that every female gym teacher is in fact a lesbian. Mrs. Kiel had married a man. So presumably, she was not. But that didn't stop us. We always said "Mr. Berg." Of course we tried to say it so fast that she wouldn't be able to tell. But eventually, she caught on. And she called me on it. She remained calm. But she said, "It's Mrs. Berg." I smiled and said, "Mr. Berg." This went on several times before I finally relented and said, "Mrs. Berg." Man, I was being disrespectful.

I don't know where Mrs. Berg is today. I haven't seen her since high school. Perhaps someone could fill me in as to her first name. Maybe I can find out what she's doing today.


I found two more pictures of Kim. I also found a photo of Craig, as well as one new one from Chris. You can see them in their entries. Thanks.

Thursday, June 29, 2006


I get the feeling that Mr. Wenner (Craig) was well-liked by a lot of students. I wasn't one of them. I thought he was an asshole.

The first time I ever encountered him was in 8th grade. I was in Mr. Ashenbrenner's class. But Ashenbrenner wasn't there. So we all kind of milled around a bit. Finally about 10 minutes into class, our substitute charged into class, yelling at the top of his lungs. He alleged that he could hear us from way down the hall. Whatever. He basically told all of us to shut up. He tried to intimidate everyone of us. For the most part, it worked. For the rest of the hour, he was a prick. He was rude and quick to snap at anyone. Ugh. What a guy. I never forgot him though. That was my introduction to Mr. Wenner.

Two years later, the beloved (that was sarcasm) study hall monitor, Mrs. Mull came down with shingles or something. She never returned to school. I believe Mr. Wenner became the full time study hall (and detention) monitor.

After my freshman year, I didn't have any study halls again until the last five weeks of my junior year - the result of getting kicked out of gym class. So I got to experience Wenner then. I found him to still be a total prick. He would proudly walk into the room and yell, "I don't like freshmen." It got a laugh from all the non-freshmen. But still, who was he trying to impress? A bunch of 16-year-olds? Grow up!

My memory is fading a bit. Because I know that Wenner was around for my senior year. But I also remember a study hall teacher named Mr. Lienss (pronounced like Lyons) - or something like that.

As a sophomore, I was sitting in study hall - even though I had no study halls that year. Something must have been going on. Perhaps I was kciked out of some class for a day or something. But anyway, Wenner was taking roll call. When he got to Mike Polich, he said, "Mike Pollock." Yes, Mike had lived with that silly nickname his whole life. But what was a teacher doing saying it? Anyway, several people laughed. Again, Wenner was obviously trying to impress a bunch of kids. But one kid didn't laugh. I forget his name. But he was a group home kid. He had short blond hair. They called him "Ski." His last name was Polish, and ended in those three letters. If someone remembers his name, please share it. People may recall that "Ski" got into a fight with Mike Holschbach. A month or two later, the two apparently became friends, and had a friendly "loser shaves his head" bet over the Marvin Hagler Vs. Sugar Ray Leonard fight. Ski won. And Mike's head was shaved. Anyway, Ski didn't appreciate Wenner's remark. And he shouted, "I don't wanna hear that shit!" The class "oohed." Wenner knew he'd fucked up. But he had an obligation to enforce the rules. Mr. Wood was summoned. And the three of them disappeared into Wood's office - which was in earshot of study hall. There was a lot of yelling. I'm not sure what exactly happened. But the next thing we knew, Ski was walking down the hall. He flung his books in the air, and said something like, "You can take this fuckin' school and shove it up your ass." Ski disappeared, and was never seen in school again. Way to go Wenner! (That's sarcasm too).

In my senior year, someone put a tack on Wenner's chair when he left the room. It stayed there for about five minutes, before class of 1991's Allen Dassey removed it, for fear that he would get blamed. As a trivia note, Dassey's cousin Brendan has been charged with murder in the Steven Avery case, in Manitowoc County. As another trivia note, Brendan's father was a friend of a friend. I've been in the same room as Brendan - although he was very young at the time. Nonetheless, it's still creepy.

Something tells me that Wenner was into photography. But I could be wrong.

Today Wenner still teaches at the high school. I believe he's a special education teacher. He lives in Manitowoc, and appears to be a fan of old TV shows. It also looks like he's a fan of ballroom dancing!


Try pin# 4760745 for some possible new classmates who may have recently viewed this blog.


What a cool new toy! Dial the same number - 1-888-752-5277. This time use pin# 4711749. When you're done with that, hit "3" then put in pin# 4747778. If you do that, you'll hear two "off-blog" top-5 lists from me. It's the top-5 _________ from our class.



Care to hear a message from me? If so, I have a toll-free number for you. Call 1-888-752-5277. When it asks for the pin number, put in 6315474. It's all free. When it's done, you can hit "2" to reply - if you so choose. Best of all, it's anonymous. So if you want to call me an asshole (Edna's mother, are you listening?) you can do it.


Wednesday, June 28, 2006


Mr. Witting is another teacher I never had. Was his name George? He taught at Washington. His room was on the first floor. Something tells me he taught business-related courses. But I'm not positive about that.

I had Witting for my homeroom in my senior year. That was the only exposure I ever got of him. I don't think we ever spoke one word to each other.

Mr. Witting had a son. I believe his name was Brett. If I'm not mistaken, Brett graduated with the class of 1988. Witting may also have had a daughter who was younger than me. I'm not sure.

There is a Mr. Witting who currently teaches at L.B. Clarke. But I believe that is Brett, not his father. Perhaps his dad is now retired.


Thanks to Meff for remembering her name. Of course I don't recall her first name.

Mrs. Olson was the librarian at Clarke for my 7th and 8th grade. She was a total bitch. There, I said it. Let's get that out of the way.

I don't know what her problem was. Perhaps she despised kids. She certainly didn't seem to like being around them. She had blond hair, and was perhaps in her early to mid-50's. She was always scowling, and was generally unpleasant to be around. She'd snap at you for no reason. I couldn't stand her.

One day in 7th grade, I'd had a detention after school, in Mrs. Westberg's room. It was probably around 4:00 or so when I got out. I headed back to my locker to drop off my books. On the way, as I walked down that long hall towards the library and locker area, I ran into her. She stopped me, and told me that I had to leave the school immediately. What??? She then told me that students weren't allowed to be in the school this late. Yeah, right. Who the fuck did she think she was? We shouted back and forth for a little while, before she "escorted" me out the door. All the while, her husband (who must have come to pick her up) mingled around in the background, saying nothing. I was so pissed! I had a pile of books. And I had no intention of carrying that stuff home. I wandered around the perimeter of the school, and found the set of doors right by my locker. As luck would have it, they weren't locked yet. I waltzed in and was unlocking my lock within two seconds. Suddenly I heard some singing. It was Olson's husband. He came by, was startled to see me, then called out to his wife, "Dear!" A few seconds later, Mrs. Olson was back, and bitchier than ever. She lit into me. I ignored her and calmly stuffed my books in my locker. When I was all done, I walked out the door and went home. Fuck her!

In 8th grade, I heard an interesting story about Mrs. Olson. I was in Mr. Franke's science class. Olson came in to drop off some book or something. As she walked out, she joked with Franke about something. Then once she was out of earshot, Franke cut off his laugh and said, "Witch!" The whole class roared. We knew. Then Franke told us a story about how earlier that year (or perhaps the year before) he had seen two students waiting around in the library for Mrs. Olson to appear. Franke knew where she was. So he walked down to the office, and told Mrs. Olson (who was engaged in conversation with the school secretary, Ms. Koeppe) that there were some students waiting to see her. She just said, "ok" and continued with her conversation. Franke stood there for a few moments, then said, "Don't you think you should go help them?" I don't recall what she said. But she more-or-less told him that she'd get there when she gets there. Disgusted, Franke went back to the library and told the two students that they should give up waiting, as Olson wasn't interested in doing her job. Witch indeed!

To my knowledge, I have never seen her since I left Clarke. I don't miss her either. I hope she's retired.


Mr. Spatz (no clue about his first name) was the art teacher at Magee.

Mr. Spatz and I really didn't get along too much. I don't know what it was. I didn't fool around in his class too much. But I guess it was just enough to irritate him.

I don't recall too much about the man. I think he had black glasses and a beard - sort of like a leftover hippie from 1970. I do remember that on his chair, there were some eggs painted. So when he sat down, he was "fertilizing" them.

In 5th grade, I was up north in Merrill (north of Wausau) where my grandparents lived. I opened up the local paper. And who do I see? A picture of Mr. Spatz, his wife, and their daughter. It was an article about cerebral palsy - something his wife had. I cut it out and brought it home. When I told him about it, he asked to see it. He had never seen the article. Apparently his wife was from Merrill as well. So I brought it in and gave it to him. He thanked me. That was the extent of our friendliness.

About the only other thing I remember was an argument that was taking place at my table. There were four per table. I sat with Ken Bartz, Randy Klein and Troy Rezachek. We were arguing with Randy, telling him that he had black hair. It looked jet black to us. But Spatz told us we were wrong, that it was more brown. I still think he was wrong.

I have one last memory from that class. It's minor. But for the sake of completists out there, here it is. It was fifth grade. At the time, Paul McCartney & Stevie Wonder's duet "Ebony & Ivory" was on the top of the charts. You couldn't turn on a radio and not find that song. It was everywhere. Anyway, in my best Stevie Wonder voice, I sang, "There is good and bad." Then from across the room, Jay Rozmarynoski sang McCartney's next line which was simply, "Mmm-mmm." Everyone chuckled.

Below is a picture of a frog I made in his class. The Pac-Man is actually from Mr. Kjelstrup's class in 6th grade.

If I knew Spatz' first name, I met be able to figure out what he's doing today. The last I knew, he was still at Magee. Of course my last information is from June, 1982.


This is going to be very brief. It's simple really. I never had this man as a teacher.

I believe he taught science to freshman. He no doubt had other classes as well. Come to think of it, he may have taught physics. I seem to recall that nearly every freshman either had Mr. Buth or Mr. Wheeler. I had Mr. Wheeler.

Buth's room was on the third floor, right next to Wheeler's. I think he was a balding man, and kind of short. If memory serves, his first name was Gerald.

I don't recall anyone ever having anything negative to say about him. So I'm guessing he was a good guy.

I can't find anything current on the man. Although I haven't looked much either. He appears to still live in Two Rivers. There are a couple of "Buths" in the Two Rivers public school system. So I'm guessing those are probably his grandchildren. As far as I can tell, he has retired from teaching.

Tuesday, June 27, 2006


I believe Mr. Burns was primarily a business teacher at Washington. However, I had him for a math class during my senior year. It was business math.

In order to graduate, each student had to have two credits of math. That meant four semesters. I took algebra my freshman year. I flunked the second semester. I would have flunked the first semester too, had it not been for Shawn Rappley. As a sophomore, I was put into pre-algrebra II. I passed the whole year. So I had 1.5 credits. I didn't have any math my junior year. So going into my senior year, Mr. Boehlke (the guidance counselor) told me I had to have a math class. As always, I wanted the easy way out. So he put me into business math. I asked him what kind of students were in that class. He told me it was filled with people who have trouble with math, and people like me, who were a half credit short or something, and needed it to graduate. Translation - a class filled with derelicts. Oh well. Sign me up!

The class was just what I had anticipated. It was filled with the best rejects WHS had to offer. Although Sheila Zach was in there too. I didn't quite get that. In addition to Sheila, Joy Holtz and myself, I think the rest of the class was full of juniors - most of whom probably didn't graduate.

See my entries on Joy and Sheila for additional stories regarding that class.

Mr. Burns was sort of a round man. He wasn't overly heavy. He just kind of had an odd shape. He tended to wear khaki pants and tennis shoes everyday. He also had a beard. And if memory serves, he may have had a gap in his teeth.

I got along pretty good with Mr. Burns. He was a decent guy. Of course it should be pointed out that I was far and away his star pupil. The lesson plan was really dumbed down, so to speak. His class was incredibly easy. I breezed through it with very little effort - something I was a master of. I think I may have gotten A's across the board.

Joy and I actually worked together quite a bit during the 4th quarter. Again, see my entry on Joy for the details. Burns accused her of cheating off of me for her good grade. It wasn't true though. Joy and I policed each other.

I believe Mr. Burns had a daughter named Maria. She graduated from our school in 1994.

Mr. Burns' entry has a sad ending. Sometime around 1995 or 1996, shortly after the new school year started, Mr. Burns had a heart attack and died. I believe it happened one evening at home. Regretfully, I can't recall his first name.

Monday, June 26, 2006


I added another photo, as well as a link to Larry's website.

As for Kim and Chris, I added recent photos of them as well. The internet is an amazing place sometimes.


Inspired by some comments left by Brandon Podhola, I added a small story about Mike.

As for Chip, I added a recent photo of him - if you consider yesterday to be recent. Kevin Dehne went to see Chip. I believe Chip has read this blog for months - although he's been silent about it. After I wrote about Kevin, he decided to look him up. I guess they were really good friends back in grade school.

Chalk up another good result from this blog. The picture is in Chip's entry.

Friday, June 23, 2006


It's been a long time coming. But Scott has joined the blog. As of this writing, he has left a comment in his own entry, as well as for Cindy Rohrer, Shawn Pickard, Mike Zeman and Dean Lichterman.

Welcome Scott!

On another note, Kevin Dehne and myself have set a date in the near future for our assault on the Manitowoc/Two Rivers area. So if you live there, you might just get a knock on your door.

Thursday, June 22, 2006


Wow. Where does one begin?

Mrs. Westberg (Ruth) was the chorus teacher at Clarke. I first had her in 6th grade. For the most part, our class was well-behaved - including myself, believe it or not! I had no real problems with her. In fact, I can even recall volunteering to sing solo in her class. She used to offer extra "A's" to those students brave enough to sing one of our regular songs all by ourself. I did it several times. I've always had a fairly decent singing voice. Nobody groaned. Although Ken Bartz used to try and make me laugh.

Prior to class, she would often have us "warm up" by singing the phrase, "aluminum, linoleum, aluminum."

7th grade was much different. For starters, my good friend and fellow troublemaker Doug Wall was in there with me. It was the first time that we'd ever been in a class together. Plus his neighbor Tom Grassman was in there. He and I became friends. I also got to be around Craig Rysticken for the first time on a daily basis. He and I were not friends. Craig used to treat several of us like human punching bags. And of course there was Kevin Dehne. I'd met Kevin that year. He and I shared every class together. 5th hour chorus was going to be a blast.

From almost day one, it was painfully obvious that not a lot of learning was going to occur. Westberg's class was one where kids could fool around in. There was just something about her personality. I don't think she was a bad person. But she always seemed grumpy. It's like she had a permanent scowl on her face. More often than not, she was in a bad mood.

I remember one day when we are all milling about. We were doing something in class. I told Toby Schwartz to look under her skirt. And when her back was turned, he did it! I think Pam Schley was the only other person to see him do it. She gave him a disgusted look. I laughed. I believe Toby said her panties were blue.

Westberg had a discipline system. If you screwed around or got in trouble, she'd write you name on the board. That was a warning. If you screwed around again, you got a checkmark next to your name. That meant you had to serve a detention after school, in her room, for 15 minutes. A second checkmark meant a half hour. A third checkmark meant you had to go to Mr. Vogt's office. Mr. Vogt was the principal. If you failed to show up for one of her detentions, she gave you an additional one. She'd keep a list of names on her board for everyone in all her classes. If anyone ever got up to 25, that was supposed to be an instant suspension from school. If you read Kevin Dehne's entry, you'll find the story of how Kevin and I got suspended from school, after we were kicked out of her class one day. On that day, I actually reached the 25 mark for suspensions. So, I figured I'd dodged a bullet. She couldn't suspend me because I'd already been suspended. Eventually my number increased into the 40's. I may have even hit the 50 mark. I do know for a fact that I was on top of that leader board, and set the record. At one point she told me that if I didn't start serving them, that I would be suspended again. So I think I showed up for a few days, staying 90 minutes, and wiping out three of them each day. But that was too much to endure. After three or four days I couldn't take it anymore. And I refused to serve anymore of her detentions. Eventually she gave up trying. I think I may have earned a few "F's" in her gradebook because of it. But hey, it beat staying after school.

One day I brought a set of matches to school. I spent the time in Westberg's class, lighting them, and throwing them at her, while her back was turned. I don't know if she was aware of it. But she did know I had matches. Because she wrote it down on my "trip sheet" (again See Kevin's entry for an explanation on that). Funny, I would have thought that to be grounds for suspension. But apparently, it wasn't.

At one point that year, Westberg appeared to be offering me an olive branch. Knowing I'd taken piano lessons for seven years, she showed me some sheet music, and asked if I was capable of playing it. I said yes. Then she asked if I would be interested in doing it for the class. I angrily said, "No!" Nothing more needed to be said. She knew I wasn't going to do anything for her.

In a typical week, I would find myself kicked out of her class. She would simply bypass her whole checkmark system and yell, "Get out!" I guess she got tired of our constant disruptions. Kevin, Doug and myself were generally the only ones to get the boot. But on some days, others would join us. One day when Tom was kicked out, the four of us went into the lunchroom and played tag. The janitor would be in there cleaning up, as it was just after lunch. But he didn't care. Tom still talks about that to this day.

Westberg's class was closed in. In other words, there were no windows. Her room is different today. But back then, all one would have to do is turn out the lights. That would plunge the room into total darkness. And of course, the light switch was by the door - which was at the end of the long walkway leading into the room. On occasion, one of us would flip off the light and slam the door. Then we'd hear a bunch of "ooooohs" from the room. Westberg would have to walk around her piano, flip the light on and open the door to scream at us. Then she'd go back in. If we were feeling ballsy, we'd do it again a few minutes later.

One day there was a horrible stench in the hall. We traced it to a garbage can outside the lunchroom. Someone had gotten a rotten orange in their lunch. Obviously, it wasn't eaten. I had a devious plan. With both Kevin and Doug egging me on, I took some paper towel and grabbed the orange. I took it into the chorus room, and rubbed and squirted it all over the inside doorknob. When I was finished, I flipped off the light and closed the door. Moments later, Westberg opened the door, prepared to yell at us. But instead, she looked at us with a look of horror on her face. As she did so, she was clutching her hand in front of her. I pointed and laughed. Then I screamed, "She touched it! She touched it!" As the three of us laughed, Westberg said nothing, then walked to the bathroom. She came out a minute or two later, again said nothing, then walked back into her class. I have no idea what what going through her mind. I think she was beyond disgusted. She looked ill. I've often wondered what she thought it was. Yes, we were bastards.

I remember being up at her piano getting my "trip sheet" filled out. Someone (perhaps me) asked about her perfume. She always wore too much of it. And I for one didn't care for it. I pointed it out, and asked "WHAT is that?" Annoyed, she said what it was, then remarked, "It's very expensive." I then made some sort of joke about how I thought the perfume was called "Eau De Cow."

My mom had to come see Westberg a couple of times that year. If I got into too much trouble, she would summons one of my parents for a conference. After her first meeting, my mom told me, "I don't like that woman. I also don't think she likes kids." Way to go mom! Of course she went on to say that despite my feelings for her, I needed to behave better.

We sang a ton of songs in her class. Quite often, we would substitute our own lyrics in place of the real ones. "Hey Jude" became "Hey Dude... Why do you smell?" We had entire verses. My favorite was of course "Yesterday." I coined the phrase, "Oh I believe that Doug is gay." That one caught on like wildfire. Damn near everyone sang it - including the girls. Doug would often get furious about it. Even if he were kicked out of class, whenever the lyric was sung, he would run back in the room, scream "happy" (after the word "gay") then run back out. Eventually Mrs. Westberg refused to play that song anymore.

Another one we often sang was the Mickey Mouse Club theme. During the opening march on the piano, prior to the lyrics, Jason Anderson and Kevin Dehne would sing "lick a pussy, lick a pussy" to the beat. I don't think Westberg ever caught on. Even when I was in the hallway, I could hear Jason's booming voice as he spit out those lyrics.

Later on in that same song, there was a lyric "Mickey Mouse, Mickey Mouse, forever let us hold you banner high, high, high, high." Well, everytime we sang "Mickey Mouse" I would yell "Donald Duck" right after. That too really caught on. And before long nearly everyone sang that as well. I don't think I invented that one though. I'm pretty sure I heard Donald Duck sing that in a cartoon. I distictly recall being kicked out and sitting in the hall one day. When they sang that song, I heard many people sing "Donald Duck." I smiled. I was so proud!

At Christmas time, we of course sang Christmas songs. I had a Mad Magazine that had a bunch of Christmas song parodies. "We three clods from Omaha are, spending Christmas Eve in a car. Driving, drinking, glasses clinking - who needs a lousy bar?" Westberg got really furious. She pleaded with us, "Don't do that to Christmas songs!" She seemed like she might break down into tears.

Later in the year, a teacher's aide or something joined the class. His name was Eric Bush. Read my entry on Kevin Dehne to see how he would physically abuse us. What an asshole! Anyway, one day he was in charge, as Westberg was home sick or something. In a strange attempt to mimic her checkmark theory, after my name was up there with three checkmarks, I screwed up again. He looked at my name, grabbed a piece of chalk, thought for a few seconds, then circled it. What the hell? Then he said, "That... makes it worse." Yeah, ok. I'm laughing my ass off as I type this. Nothing became of it.

One day I found a hat in the garbage can. So I put it on and covered my whole head. I then walked into the chorus room bow-legged, as if I were a gunslinger. I stopped in front of the piano, faced the class, then pulled out my imaginary guns and started "shooting" everyone with my fingers. In print, it may not seem to exciting. But in class, it looked absolutely ridiculous - and very, very funny. I have no idea what I was doing. Westberg of course marched around the piano, grabbed me by the arm, and escorted me out of the room.

Around January, Mr. Vogt called a bunch of Westberg's "troubled" students into the lunchroom for a meeting. It was all the bad kids from all of her classes. What a collection of misfits that was. I'm not sure why Kevin wasn't there for that. But Doug and I were. Vogt was surprisingly jovial. He even used a few cuss words to break the ice. Basically he pleaded with us to start behaving better. I don't know if it worked with anyone else. But it didn't work in our class. Actually, at some point suring that meeting, Doug and I started fooling around, to which Vogt began to scream at us. He was a scary dude.

In the spring of that year, Westberg and I started screaming at each other. I crumpled up a piece of paper and tossed it into her face, saying, "You're it!" She got really offended by that. She took me to Mr. Vogt's office, who promptly suspended me from school for three days. I'm pretty sure I still have the suspension notice. The reason listed - "Conduct unbecoming a student: Throwing wad of paper at teacher."

See my entries on Doug Wall, Craig Rysticken, B.J. Lutterman, Tom Grassman and Kevin Dehne for additional stories about Mrs. Westberg.

When I got to see Tom this past February, he mentioned something I never knew before. He said Mrs. Westberg is the person who taught him how to play the guitar. Wow! Today Tom makes a living playing it.

After that 1983-1984 school year, I believe Clarke wouldn't let her teach any 7th or 8th grade students anymore. She was relegated to teaching the 6th grade only. If that's true, I suspect it's because she simply didn't have the ability to control the bad kids in her classes.

Today I believe Mrs. Westberg has retired. I think she's active in the Manitowoc community. As my parents are both members of the Lakeshore Wind Ensemble, I have often seen her at some of their concerts. We've never spoken. Although I wouldn't be surprised if she's recognized me.

UPDATE - 7/20/06 - On July 15th, Kevin Dehne and I drove by Westberg's house. Amazingly, she was outside. So we stopped to say hi. She is in fact retired now, and living in Manitowoc. She remembered our names, but not our actions - which was a good thing. She did remember Wayne Rebarchek, whom she said "got under her skin." She said she taught at Clarke for five years, and hated it. She indicated that it takes a certain kind of teacher to teach kids at that age. The picture below was taken during that conversation.


No more drama. I'm tired of it. I'm tired of defending myself. If something I've written offends you... get over it. 99% of what I write about is stuff that happened 20 years ago. It doesn't mean shit today. If you're embarrassed about something I wrote, tough. Karma's a bitch sometimes. Still, it doesn't mean shit today!

If I said something that hurt your feelings, then I truly am sorry. Tell me. I'll apologize here. I'll apologize in private. I don't care. But I'm not changing anything. My opinions are just my own. Don't take them as gospel! Develop a thicker skin, tell me I'm wrong, then drop it.

Wednesday, June 21, 2006


The relative of Clint Mattrisch has returned once again. She still insists she's a principal. Principal of what... I have no idea.


Three new recent pictures have been added.

Also, if you read his entry, you'll see a comment from me which mentions that Scott sent me an incredibly long E-mail. It was basically his "comment" on himself. But he didn't want to share it publically.

But he's now had a change of heart. He's given me permission to share it with everyone. It's an incredible read. And it's a real jaw-dropper. For those who are interested, E-mail me. Trust me. It's worth it.

Tuesday, June 20, 2006


The last several days have been interesting. Sometimes I feel like a broken record. I seem to be defending myself more and more. So I then ask myself whether or not this blog was a good idea. Perhaps it should have been private. Maybe I've crossed the line too much. Maybe I've hurt the feelings of too many people.

It's come to my attention that some people have been hurt by my words. And for that, I am truly sorry. I never intended to do so. It's not in my nature. And I feel really, really bad about it. In some cases, the damage has already been done.

So what's next? Deleting the blog has crossed my mind. But that's not going to happen. I still feel that the good things in this blog far outweigh the bad - not only for me, but for most of my readers as well.

Not that anyone will notice, but I'm going to go around and edit some of the entries I have made. Where I can remember, I'm going to remove certain references. If you feel that something particularly hurtful should be removed, please E-mail me about it. Please note that I will not be removing my opinions on my classmates' and teachers' personalities. If I thought you were an asshole, and said so, the comment will remain. Assholism can be cured.

Look for the next teacher entry tomorrow.


I spoke to him for maybe 40 minutes a few night ago. I now have a picture of him as well. It's in his entry. Check it out!

Sunday, June 18, 2006


Brian has stopped by and left what is probably the longest comment that anyone has ever left. He also posed some very interesting questions in regards to my motivation behind the blog. It's a good discussion.

Welcome Brian!

Friday, June 16, 2006


Yes indeed, Edna (or more likely Edna's mother) has once again stopped by. I shouldn't keep advertising her appearances. But damn, it gets even more comical. If you're looking for another laugh, check out the entry for Clint Mattrisch once again.


Mr. Hough (David) was a history teacher at Washington high school. I had him as a freshman. I had him for 1st hour, during the 1st semester. I sat at a table with Mark Schreiber. Tammy Behrmann sat in front of me. Class of 1987's Doug Defere sat on my left.

I'll be up front. I thought Mr. Hough was an asshole. He was just mean. He was quick to snap at you, and tried to rule by fear. He did not relate well to students - at least in my opinion. Mr. Hough was one of the teachers who would belt out, "This ain't L.B. Clarke" at the drop of a hat. Geez... what a worm.

I had an occasion to speak to my 7th grade social studies teacher, Mr. Schambureck five years after I'd had him. He mentioned that everytime there was some sort of teachers' meeting within the school system, Mr. Hough would rant and rave about how horrible L.B. Clarke was, and how much of a discipline problem the students were.

I must say that Mr. Hough did have the occasional good side as well. One day, we had one of the group home kids in our class. He was chewing gum. Hough told him, "Hey guy, get rid of the gum." The kid (I can't recall his name) answered back, "It's not gum. And my name ain't Guy." The two of them exchanged a few more words. Then Hough escorted him out of there. As he was leaving, the kid said, "By the way, it was gum." We didn't see him again for three days. But when Hough came back from Mr. Wood' office, he was jovial. He was joking around and was a delight. Those days were rare.

Hough showed us some slides from when he visited one of the WWII concentration camps in Germany. He even had a picture from inside one of the "ovens." He said it had a bad odor.

Hough used to mock his students sometimes. I recall Mark and I sitting and listening to one of his lectures, when he suddenly (in a "dumb" voice) said, "I don't need to take note because I have a photographic memory." Of course Mark and I (and anyone else who wasn't taking notes) immediately got out their pens and papers. It sucked sitting at a table near the front of the room.

If memory serves, Hough was into photography. I think he was in charge of the photo club - or whatever it was called.

Hough was completely bald. He may not have had hair anywhere on his face. I can't recall. He always reminded me of former wrestler Baron Von Raschke. See the photo below, and tell me I'm wrong.

Dave Svatek told me that Mr. Hough used to be in charge of leading all the pep rallies at the school. But he would get the kids so wound up and rowdy, that the school stopped him from doing it. I have no idea if that's true.

In November of 1985, I missed a week of school. I wasn't sick. But I played one at home. Anyway, my dad picked up my homework from school. I glanced at it all, but did nothing. Anyway, Hough provided a list of "materials" for which I should find information on. Not one single thing he listed was in our textbook. What the hell? Perhaps he discussed them in class. But it seemed like an awful lot of work. I ended up not doing any of it.

I ended up getting a "D" in his class. I never had him as a teacher again. Although I did run into him many times at the video store. He was always friendly. I think he carried a backpack wherever he went. Today I think he's retired from teaching. But I could be wrong.

Thanks to Shannon Koch for providing this photo of Mr. Hough. You can see him here kneeling in front of the graduates, at the ceremony on June 4th, 1989.

Thursday, June 15, 2006


There's a very brief update as to where Dave is today.


Mrs. Pohlman (Virginia) was one of two Spanish teachers at Washington High School. I think her husband was a fireman. She was also Richard Wheeler's aunt. Richard had a few very interesting (although not surprising) tidbits about her. But alas, I'm not going to repeat them here.

My first contact with her came in freshman year. I was actually in French class. But I was with Meff one day after school. He had to go into her classroom to get something from her. Apparently there was a test or quiz coming up the next day. Because she kept getting into his face saying, "Estudio mucho, estudio mucho!" She was really too much. And I was turned off by it. As a sophomore, I took Spanish as well. I was really hoping that I would get Mrs. Kulas. But no, I got Mrs. Pohlman. Thank God!

To my surprise, Mrs. Pohlman ended up being one of the coolest teachers I've ever had. She was a space cadet, no doubt. But she was friendly and a lot of fun. She seemed more like an older peer, as opposed to an authority figure. Since there was no Spanish name that coincided with mine, I got to choose any name I wanted. So I went with "Chico." I loved it!

For some reason, my class had a bunch of boneheads in it - people who had no right being in a foreign language class. There were several members of the "black T-shirt crowd" so to speak. So to be honest, the class was a bit "dumbed down" to accomodate everyone. That worked out great for me!

Class of 1990's Stuart Cook was also in Spanish with me. If I'm not mistaken, he may have had some Hispanic blood in him. Stuart was a good guy. But he just couldn't grasp basic concepts of the language. On day one, we learned one thing for certain - how to say "My name is..." in Spanish. Stuart's name was Rudolpho. So of course he would say "Me llamo Rudolpho." Anyone who has ever taken Spanish knows that when you have two "L's" together, it makes a "Y" sound. Stuart could never commit that to memory. He always said "LA-MO." Even in January, as the second semester began, he would say, "Me la-mo Rudolpho." Pohlman would be exasperated and yell, "Llamo Staurt, llamo!" Before January ended, Stuart was gone.

I had Mrs. Pohlman as a junior for Spanish II. By this time all of the boneheads were gone. And real teaching started to take place. I was never much for learning. So my grades suffered that year. One main memory stands out. As the foreign language fair approached, I did nothing. I had no idea what my "project" was going to be. I was clueless as to what to do. A day or two before the event, Pohlman took class of 1990's Chad Lichterman and myself into the hall. And she berated us for not doing anything. So that night, I put together the biggest slop job of a project you can imagine. I took a piece of construction paper, and made some sort of board game. I made cards too. It was something to do with an English word. Then the player had to guess the Spanish word that went with it. If you got it right, you moved up one space. I have no talent for drawing. So the board consisted of maybe 10-12 spaces - which were poorly drawn rectangles. Honestly, it was the shittiest looking thing I've ever seen. I brought it to school on Friday. Richard (who never had a problem with doing something half-assed either) saw it and laughed his ass of. He kept saying, "You can't turn that in!" But hey, I had to. It was an assignment. It was awful and embarrassing. But at least I got something done. I think I got a D on it. Trust me, that was beyond generous. Actually, now that I think about it, Mrs. Pohlman gave me a ride home from the foreign language fair that year. I put my bike in the trunk of her car. I remember laughing and saying "It (the trunk) won't close." She rolled her eyes and gave me a "duuuh" look. I think she also brought Richard and Larry Daffner home as well.

Mrs. Pohlman came into the video store all the time. She was always nice and friendly. Today it looks like she recently moved to the Madison area. I believe she works for the Waterford school system. She actually may be the president of the board of education.

Wednesday, June 14, 2006


I believe that Mr. Stodola (Joe) was a 6th grade teacher at Magee, while I was there. But when the Two Rivers school system put all the 6th grades at Clarke, Mr. Stodola joined me there for its inaugural 6th grade year.

I didn't meet up with Mr. Stodola until 7th grade. After one year of 6th graders, he was moved up. He taught science to the 7th grade, and math to the 8th grade. I had him both years. Science was 2nd hour. Math (and homeroom) was 1st hour.

For other stories about Stodola, see my entries on Kevin Dehne, B.J. Lutterman, Jeff Messerman, Jenny Malley, Cory Schultz, Wade Wachholz, Chris Storlie, Randy Ertman, and probably several others.

Stodola seemed like a decent man. But he also seemed to have a hard time relating to students. But man, the guy could tell stories. A week wouldn't go by where Stodola would rock back and forth on his heels, and say, "I once knew a man..." I remember him telling us about some football player (perhaps on his high school team) who jumped through the round paper thing coming onto the field, caught his cleats on it, then tumbled to the ground. Of course who can forget his story about the guy with the glass eye? On a very cold day, he went into a diner. When the waitress came by, he said, "It's so cold, I think I froze my eye." Then he took a spoon and tapped it on his glass eye. The waitress nearly fainted. I remember once that B.J. kind of poked fun at him at some point about all his stories. Stodola got defensive and insisted that they were all true. B.J. wasn't doubting him however. He just kidded him about them.

Stodola had really big arms. He needed them at lunch one day in 7th grade. I'm not sure what exactly happened. But class of 1988's Bill Tadych got out of control, and had to be "escorted" to the office. By escorted, I mean dragged while trying to fight every step of the way. It took Stodola, Mr. Ashenbrenner and a third teacher to physically handle him. We didn't see Bill again for a few days.

I generally got along with the guy. Although I don't think he understood me. I don't think he understood a lot of kids. It was sort of like he expected everyone to be mature and act like adults. Of course one can't expect kids to act like adults all the time. It seemed like he just couldn't grasp that fact.

I'm not sure when exactly Stodola left Clarke. But he's no longer there. In fact, he now appears to be the principal of Holy Cross School in Mishicot. It's a private, Catholic school. I believe he's lived in Mishicot for many years.


Carrie has provided an updated photo for each family. Thank you Carrie!

I have been lazy. But I plan to have an entry for Mr. Stodola before the day is done.

And if anyone has any pictures to send, please do! Whether they're current or from their childhood, it doesn't matter. I want them all. The childhood ones are especially cool.


Thursday, June 08, 2006


Mr. Trembley (Jerome) was the 7th grade English teacher. As far as I know, that's all he ever taught. For me and my class, he was also our homeroom teacher - which means we had him for English in first hour.

Trembley was a pretty amiable fellow. For the most part, we got along. Although we did have our differences as well. If memory serves, he played basketball in either high school or college. I think he was quite proud of his athletic background. I can recall him telling us that in one of his feet (his right one?) all the tendons had been broken. He provided "proof" of this by bending his foot to the side, further than it probably should have been.

Mr. Trembley once caught Toby Schwartz and I cheating on a spelling test. I think he failed both of us on that test.

I can't recall the incident that led to the next encounter. I was probably just being obnoxious. But Trembley took me into the hall and calmly read me the riot act. He wasn't a big screamer. But the two of us went toe-to-toe in our verbal sparring. Finally at one point, he said something to me like, "Don't you care about anything?" Being my normal cocky self, I looked him right in the eye and said, "No." Trembley looked really hurt by that statement. He simply said, "Ok." Then we both walked back into class. From that day forward, he was very distant towards me. It kind of seemed like he had taken the attitude that he was reaching out to me, trying to help me in some capacity, but had given up when I turned him away. Honestly, it really seemed like he was being that dramatic. All I was interested in doing was ending our conversation, and avoiding detentions. But Trembley apparently took it to heart.

Mr. Trembley had a small bald spot on the back of his head. All year long, both B.J. Lutterman and myself would say, "Spit shine... 25 cents" while we pretended to spit on our hands, then wipe it on the back of our heads. I don't know. We thought it was funny.

I think Mr. Trembley is retired. I believe he lives in Manitowoc.

Wednesday, June 07, 2006


Thanks to Carrie Franz for this photo. I'm guessing it was from perhaps 3rd grade? In it we see Debbie Lumaye, Carrie, Vicki Osmunson, Ellen Dawidowich, Kelly Kotarek, Larry Daffner, Rod Lumaye, Don Ciha, Brian Belongia and David Duvall.

Don't you just love the look on Ellen's face?

And Brian looks like a swinger!

Tuesday, June 06, 2006


Mrs. Hanson was the music teacher at Magee. I had her in both 4th grade and 5th grade. Her music room was right near the 5th grade area.

I never had much interaction with her. We got along for the most part. I do recall that she had a problem with Cory Schultz though. She was always yelling at him.

In 4th grade, we sang a song called "Happiness." I think it was from a Charlie Brown special. I recall Ross Remiker changing the lyrics, and saying, "Happiness is going to the bathroom, missing the toilet, peeing on the floor..."

It was in Mrs. Hanson's class where I first became aware of an instrument called the "flutophone." Yes, I still have mine. I even have the box it came in. It was really rather odd. We all had those damn things, and were "taught" how to play them. But I only recall using them in class a couple of times.

In 5th grade, we played this game in her class. We all sat on the floor, in a big circle. Then she gave each of us a blue stick. We placed it on the floor in front of us. Then she started her record player, of some African-sounding song. It was some woman singing something that sounded like "Sa, sa-kro ma. Woh-nay ah, wo chay-chay koko ma." The singer repated the line over and over and over, getting faster wich each verse. The game was to pass your stick to the person on your right, keeping in perfect time to the song. Mrs. Hanson would stop the song at random, then go and look at the sticks. Unless you had just one stick in front of you, you were out. Inevitably, the song would start going so fast that people couldn't keep up. So you'd find a stack of five sticks being passed at once, while some people had none. Richard Wheeler once told me that he used to hold the sticks and not even pass them. I recall that on one day, the last two participants were Lisa King and Dawn Schmidt. She declared it a tie. I would kill to hear that song again!

I also recall a very short song that went, "The little bells of Westminster go ding dong, ding dong dong.

Meff told me that each and every year, he was able to pull the Jewish card and get out of singing all the Christmas songs. When she questioned him, he'd simply respond with, "I'm Jewish." According to Meff, she once snapped at him anyway and said something like, "Well other Jewish students have sung in the past."

If I'm not mistaken, Mrs. Hanson was also the music teacher in high school, once I arrived there. Of course by then, my music class career had been soiled by Wrs. Westburg. So she and I never crossed paths again.

I would imagine she's still a teacher somewhere. What was her first name - Deborah?


Thanks to Carrie Franz and Kevin Dehne, we now have a 260th classmate to add to the entries.

Unfortunately, I have no memories of this girl. Apparently she was at Clarke during 6th and 7th grade. According to Carrie, she allegedly threw up after returning from a field trip to Point Beach Nuclear Plant, during 6th grade. I remember that trip. She apparently also had red hair and freckles.

I'm going to assume that she left Two Rivers after 7th grade. It's possible that she moved to Mishicot. It looks like she's bounced back and forth between Two Rivers and Mishicot ever since.

At some point Vicki got married and became Vicki Hanzel. I believe she has since divorced. They had at least one child together. It looks like she has gotten remarried, and become Vicki Bubolz. Last I knew, she was a teacher in the Mishicot School District - where she continues to live today.


There are two more photos and further details about Clint as well.


A fairly recent photo of Clint has been added to his entry.

Monday, June 05, 2006


Yes indeed, the time has come to talk about the teachers. And of course let's not forget about the principals, vice principals, librarians and janitors. I'm not sure how I should handle this. There are several teachers that I never had, that others did. Mr Buth, Mr. Lium, Mr. Lehman, Mr. Tisler... I can't really write about them. So if other people want to, I'll be glad to blog it for them.

Speaking of librarians, what was the name of the librarian at Clarke, during 7th and 8th grade? I can picture her as clear as day. But her name escapes me.

I had several teachers who simply didn't like me. In many cases, the feeling was mutual. Looking back at the classmates, despite what some may think, only one in perhaps 15 or so were actually painted in a negative light by me. I have a feeling that for the teachers, that percentage is going to increase quite a bit. Will any of them appear? I don't know. While I certainly don't want it to, this has the potential to get ugly. Nonetheless, I'm moving forward. Honesty is the best policy. I will not lie about anything! As before, I will offer my opinions, based on my personal experiences. Will there be some gossip from time to time? Of course. But let's be clear here. Where gossip is involved, I will only report on the FACT that it EXISTED.

Anyway, look for teacher #1 tomorrow.


I received the following E-mail from the classmate formerly known as Carrie Franz. At the moment, the name doesn't ring a bell with me. Is she perhaps referring to class of 1990's Vicki Olson? Can anyone help?

Do you remember a girl named Vicky and her last name began with an O. She lived out near Ellen Dawidowich/Jeff Rausch and went to school with us for sure in 6th and 7th grades. I don't remember much about her except she had a somewhat round face, lots of freckles, reddish hair.

Sunday, June 04, 2006



Edna has returned again. This time she has assumed two additional personalities. One of her personalities is that of the principal of Washington High School. Yes, you read that correctly. Edna is trying to pass herself off as the principal. Apparently she simply wants to have the last word - even if that last word makes her look incredibly foolish.

I already left another comment, and took away her last word. I can't wait to see what's next.