Friends of the heart-DHS Class of 1963 celebrates 50 years

Aristotle is quoted as having once said, "Friendship is a single soul dwelling in two bodies." For a group of friends from Dexter High School's Class of 1963, a common soul seems to exist in seven bodies.

When the DHS Class of '63 gathered recently to mark their 50th year after graduation, seven members of the class decided the reunion would serve as their annual get-together as well, rather than meeting up in November as they have done for years.

Most of the seven women, now all sassy 68-year-olds, have been friends since elementary school. They have seen each other through boyfriends, bad hair days, break-ups, marriages, divorces, childbirth, the loss of spouses and sadly, the loss of a child. The seven have 10 children between them and more than 30 grandchildren and step-grandchildren.

Among the group are five retired teachers, with 124 years of classroom experience behind them. Only one of the group remains in the workforce. In addition to the field of education, other occupations have been in the medical field and in public service administration.

The group attended school at the old Dexter High School, since demolished, that was on Park Lane. The original gym still remains. Students making up the class of '63 were juniors when the present high school on Grant Street opened its doors. They were the second graduating class at the school. The group took a tour of the four Dexter campuses while they were visiting, as well as the recently constructed Bearcat Event Center.

When the seven get together, it's as if no time has passed since the days when they swooned to Elvis and listened to "Wake Up Little Susie" while circling The Pig and Stud's Drive-In in their poodle skirts and saddle shoes. It was the time of cat-eye glasses and penny loafers, chiffon scarves and sitting at the soda fountain in Parker's Drug Store after school.

The seven include Beckie (Baker) Grasdorf, LaDonna (Gartrell) Sissell, Trish (Stewart) Ordelheide, Kay (Garner) Low, Jane (Hinson) Cole, Janet (Hall) Vaughn, and by virtue of her red-headedness, Mary Ann "Pinky" (Cowan) McCloud.

They hail these days from Arkansas, Tennessee, Kansas and from Rolla and Chesterfield in their home state. Only Grasdorf remains in Dexter.

Four of the seven lived within a block of each other growing up. They quite literally grew up at each other's sides. Much like siblings, they often complete each other's sentences and jump into a conversation with identical thoughts when they're together.

Although there were a couple of latecomers in junior high, the friendships for most have spanned over 60 years. They were raised very much in the same manner, in homes with two parents -- churchgoing families with strict rules in place that for the most part were adhered to on a regular basis.

They grew up listening to Frank Sinatra, Arlene Francis, Paul Anka, and their personal favorite, Pat Boone.

"I formed a Pat Boone Fan Club in junior high, and of course they all joined," attests Kay, with a sweep of her hand around the table where all seven women sat at Orchard Lake Estates Bed and Breakfast just southwest of Dexter. The clan spent the reunion weekend there in order to hold their own "mini-reunion" on the side.

"We all learned to dance at Jane's house," LaDonna says. "She was our teacher."

Jane quickly explains, "That's because I was the tallest and I always had to lead."

As each of the group attained a driver's license, they would borrow their parent's car, load up and "cruise" the streets until curfew, which was usually around 10 p.m. "We'd all chip in what change we had at the end of the night and put gas in the car," remembers Janet. "Sometimes it was only about $1.50, but gas was about 19 cents a gallon back then, so we got nearly half a tank on a couple of dollars."

The women disagree how many were in the graduating class of 1963, but all agree it was around 110. Of the graduates, 31 are now gone. They have been challenged by their individual health issues, but the group consists of a relatively healthy bunch.

Recalling their formative years, all are quick to refer to the days of not only poodle skirts, but also detachable collars worn over angora sweaters. Pants were not allowed to be worn by girls in school at the time, and so each morning they donned dresses or skirts and blouses, and often sweaters.

"Our skirts were long and straight," Kay notes, "with a kick pleat in the back."

And there were scatter pins -- a small decorative pin usually worn in groups of two or three, always on the left side. The pins often featured one larger poodle or figure with two or three little likenesses dangling by short linked chains. All agreed if they wore a scatter pin with a collar on their sweater AND a poodle skirt -- well, it just didn't get much better that that in the early 1960s.

Four of the women were high school cheerleaders. Becky was one who was not and jokingly recalls being "traumatized" by the experience of trying out for the squad.

"I wanted to be a cheerleader so badly," she recalls. "But an administrator told me I had no rhythm. I never danced again," she laughs.

She was, however, encouraged to head up the Pep Club. She took the challenge seriously and made the best of it.

The women also recall the can-cans -- layers and layers of heavily Argo-starched half-slips worn under skirts to make them stand out.

"The more they made your skirt stand out, the better," says Trish, "But you had to be really careful when you sat down!"

They danced to "At the Hop" in the old school gym, twisted to Chubby Checker and slow-danced to "Moon River."

Their hair, when not in ponytails, was "ratted" into a stacked style, sometime in a pageboy and sometimes "flipped," but always ratted high.

Their hair was curled with giant pink plastic rollers with clips to hold the hair in place. It wasn't unusual in the 1960s to see young women in the grocery store with their head piled high in pink curlers or brush rollers, especially on a Saturday afternoon prior to a date.

Pinky readily recalls working with at least two of the others at the old service station near the Hickory House motel on Highway 60.

"We pumped gas and checked oil," she recalls, "and checked the air pressure in tires. Looking back, I'm sure it was a promotional thing."

There is no lack of communication among the seven. The other six refer to Beckie as their "hub."

"She's the one who keeps all of us informed," explains Janet. "We use email and we send each other cards and we phone, but Beckie keeps us in line."

Fifty years after graduation day from Dexter High School, the pony tails are gone. The waists are a little fuller. The hair is shorter and most are gray or "helped" from the gray. Membership in the Pat Boone Fan Club has been replaced by membership in AARP. Their cheering is done from the bleachers watching grandchildren and even great-grandchildren play. There are what they like to prefer to as "laugh lines" rather than wrinkles, most of them likely formed when they are in each other's company.

But some things never change. They each cherish the time they spend together as only the dearest of friends do. Theirs is a unique timeless union of souls when they gather, which for the seven isn't often enough.