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THE
REAL THOROUGHBREDS
MUSTANGS OF JOHN MUIR HIGH SCHOOL
by
Lois
Rothschild
Molly Busch Brockmeyer once said there was something special about our
high school graduating class. We are the only class out of John Muir High
School who were together only for two years. But we can compare our memories
and our bonds against any other class from any other era.
A mini-reunion for our 1956 graduating class was held on March 23 at
the Santa Anita Race Track, and Mustangs and thoroughbreds mixed well on that
day. We met at the FrontRunner Restaurant, five levels up from the track,
with wide views of the San Gabriels and the turf below. There were name tags
but we didn't need them.
The general opinion is that we need these get-togethers more as we get
older. Too often we hear of friends we've lost forever, and even the loss of
acquaintances we barely remember touches us. Reunions every ten or fifteen
years is no longer enough.
Some of gathered together at Santa Anita, and we'll do it again next
year. We even had a race named for us, the John Muir High School Alumni Race,
which brought up from the "bleachers" an alumnus from another class and a
handicapper serving customers on that fifth level who graduated from Muir
years after we did. Our name was in lights on the toteboard, and two from our
group went down to greet the winning horse in the Winner's Circle after our
race.
Dauphin was the winning horse, ridden by Alex Solis, and silks were
green and white.
Molly came from Flintridge, but Neal was in Las Vegas for meetings.
Carrie Hill Bradford and her husband Charlie came with Charlie's
sister Edith Bradford Virgil. Charlie recently retired from the Boys and
Girls Club in Pasadena and has talked with Neal about setting up an alumni
foundation, the goal being scholarships for graduating seniors. Sounds like
a good idea, but it will take a number of us to help. We'll be hearing more
about that later in the year.
Dick Scoville was in Riverside attending a conference, so he stayed
over and came to the races at the last minute. Dick and his wife Sandy, who
graduated from PHS in 1957, live in Sacramento. Dick's still in the pest
control business, but he and Sandy travel a lot, and just returned from a six
week RV trip across the southern states. The Mardi Gras in New Orleans was
the highlight, he said.
Ken Goldman drove in with Mickey Luken. Ken lives in the San Fernando
Valley, but he's talking about moving down to south Orange County, the Talega
Ranch area.
Good for you, Kenny. We love bankrupt, controversial, political
Orange County. And, Ken, there are plenty of golf courses in Orange County.
That's assuming you still play, as you did at Muir.
Ruben Tellez kept to his youthful goals and from a member of the
Shutterbug Club at Muir he became a professional photographer. Lucky for us,
he brought his camera to the races and we're looking forward to his photos.
Connie Butz Mattson graduated in 1955, but lives in Arcadia, and she
and her husband Jack came to be with us.
Remember David Armstrong and his little red MG? Dave was there,
without MG, but with his wife Sue, an assistant city manager in Redondo
Beach.
Aileen Harbison Skinner and her husband Bill came up from Orange
County, where Aileen works for AmerisourceBrunswig and Bill works in the golf
shop at the Leisure World Golf Course. Bill went home better off than he
came, we're guessing.
Ronnie Hritz still lives in Pasadena and brought his wife, Joanne.
Eddie and Debbie Moses came up from Fullerton. Eddie handicapped the
races and selected the five fastest horses in each race, then shared the
information with us.
I should have paid attention.
Here's what I learned at the horse races:
1. Don't bet on a horse because of his color.
2. Don't bet on a horse because you recognize the name of the
jockey. Lafitte Pincay, Jr. didn't win all his races that day.
3. Don't bet on a horse that seems nervous and anxious to run
while still in the paddock. He's tired by the time he gets to the starting
gate.
4. Don't bet on a horse because his name reminds you of a family
member, a pleasant experience, or a philosophical theory you adhere to.
Jay Cohen, the Hornblower, came up just to visit our crowd. He played a
lot of oldies for us oldies.
The day was cool and breezy, but some of us went down to the paddock
to be closer to the horses. Thoroughbreds are powerful. They're heavy and loud,
and they smell good. Their heads are small with noses in the air like the American
nouveau-riche.
Thoroughbreds suffer from attention-deficit disorder, some even wear blinkers
because of it. They're pampered, petted and their manes are cut straight across
like Asian children when they're babies.
It's a thrill when they explode out of the starting gate, and even more when
they thunder toward the finish line.
Betting on these beautiful creatures seems like something you need to remember to do.
The best part is experiencing the race and it matters much less who wins.
Lucky for me I feel that way.
It's a joy to watch these fine thoroughbreds race.
But I prefer Mustangs.
Webmaster's Note:
Lois Rothschild has worked for the
Orange County Register for almost
five years. She is currently a reporter
and covers the city of Aliso Viejo
in south Orange County.
Lois can be reached at:
Snickie6@aol.com or levezich@ocregister.com
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