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•   Jo Ann Franks (Schweitzer)  10/31
•   Pat Newman (Carroll)  11/1
•   Cheryl Franklin (Kessel)  11/2
•   Beverly Hatter  11/5
•   Dianne Medlen (Kostelny)  11/5
•   Leslie Rubin (Deckelbaum)  11/6
•   Kenneth B. Hyams  11/7
•   Steven J. Schaeffer  11/7
•   Julie Ach  11/10
•   Thomas R. Baechle (Susie Baechle)  11/12
•   Rosemary Segale (Young)  11/16
•   Terry Adams  11/17
•   Patricia Cobb (Beach)  11/17
•   Steven A. Wilson  11/18
•   Lois Nathan  11/23
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I have been remiss in posting recent news to our website.  This has not been a great time for our class or its members.  Covid 19 has wreaked havoc with our dive date schedule and with other class reunions.  We have no reunions planned for the future.  Many of the people who have been involved in past reunions have either departed or are no longer wish to be involved in the planning.

Now for some further bad news. 

Tom Gildenblatt, class of 1961, married to Phyliss Gottlieb passed away on May 8, 2020. The following is the link to his obituary.  He will also be added to our web site as a guest member

Paul Haverkos - Woodward math teacher passed on July 16, 2020,  Link to his obituary:

Woodward Class of 1962 Dive Date

Carol Jo Meier started our dive dates several years ago.  Members of the class have been getting together on the second Tuesday every other month.  Dive dates are open to all class members and members of other classes who wish to attend. The location varies.  The dive dates are normally scheduled for the second Tueday of odd numbered months.  We use Evite to send out the dive invitations so that we can obtain a number of how many will attend.  If you would like to be put on the dive list, email:


Long ago and far away, in a land that time forgot,
Before the days of Dylan, or the dawn of Camelot.
There lived a race of innocents, and they were you and me.
 For Ike was in the White House in that land where we were born,
Where navels were for oranges, and Peyton Place was porn.

We longed for love and romance, and waited for our Prince,
Eddie Fisher married Liz, and no one's seen him since.

We danced to 'Little Darlin,' and sang to 'Stagger Lee'
And cried for Buddy Holly in the Land That Made Me, Me.

Only girls wore earrings then, and 3 was one too many,
And only boys wore flat-top cuts, except for Jean McKinney.

And only in our wildest dreams did we expect to see
A boy named George with Lipstick, in the Land That Made Me, Me.

We fell for Frankie Avalon, Annette was oh, so nice,
And when they made a movie, they never made it twice..

We didn't have a Star Trek Five, or Psycho Two and Three,
Or Rocky-Rambo Twenty, in the Land That Made Me, Me.

Miss Kitty had a heart of gold, and Chester had a limp,
And Reagan was a Democrat whose co-star was a chimp.

We had a Mr. Wizard, but not a Mr. T,
And Oprah couldn't talk yet, in the Land That Made Me, Me.

We had our share of heroes, we never thought they'd go,
At least not Bobby Darin, or Marilyn Monroe.

For youth was still eternal, and life was yet to be,
And Elvis was forever in the Land That Made Me, Me.

We'd never seen the rock band that was Grateful to be Dead,
And Airplanes weren't named Jefferson , and Zeppelins were not Led.

And Beatles lived in gardens then, and Monkees lived in trees,
Madonna was Mary, in the Land That Made Me, Me.

We'd never heard of microwaves, or telephones in cars,
And babies might be bottle-fed, but they were not grown in jars.

And pumping iron got wrinkles out, and 'gay' meant fancy-free,
And dorms were never co-Ed in the Land That Made Me, Me.

We hadn't seen enough of jets to talk about the lag,
And microchips were what was left at the bottom of the bag.

And hardware was a box of nails, and bytes came from a flea,
And rocket ships were fiction in the Land That Made Me, Me.

T-Birds came with portholes, and side shows came with freaks,
And bathing suits came big enough to cover both your cheeks.

And Coke came just in bottles, and skirts below the knee,
And Castro came to power near the Land That Made Me, Me.

We had no Crest with Fluoride, we had no Hill Street Blues,
We had no patterned pantyhose or Lipton herbal tea,
Or prime-time ads for those 'dysfunctions' in the Land That Made Me, Me.

There were no golden arches, no Perrier to chill,
And fish were not called Wanda, and cats were not called Bill

And middle-aged was 35 and old was forty-three,
And ancient were our parents, in the Land That Made Me, Me.

 But all things have a season, or so we've heard them say,
And now instead of Maybelline we swear by Retin-A.

They send us invitations, to join AARP,
We've come a long way, baby, from the Land That Made Me, Me.

So now we face a brave new world in slightly larger jeans,
And wonder why they're using smaller print in magazines.
And we tell our children's children of the way it used to be,
Long ago and far away in the Land That Made Me, Me.


If you didn't grow up in the fifties,
You missed the greatest time in history,

As all of you know Cleon J Wingard was the Principal at Woodward for the whole time we were there. The following link will take you a tribute to Mr. Wingard on the class of 1965's web site.      Cleon J. Wingard

Click here for an article and video on the new Woodward Career Technical High School football stadium featuring a glimpse of the Pete Johnston memorial.

We have lost touch with quite a few of our class members.  If you know the contact information for any of those we are missing, please email  The missing list on the web site and the missing list that was recently mailed to you may be different.  The web site marks anyone who has not registered on the web site as missing.