I now admit that there are retrievable memories stored in my head that, but for the sake of some trigger, will never be released. I went to a fireside meeting last night and the following chain of events triggered a memory from 1970 (when Eva Von Zeppelin, heiress of the airship designer, sues in an attempt to stop 'Led Zeppelin' from using the family name). Ok, here it goes...
Last week, Doug Waldie told me he was going to a fireside featuring renowned author and historian Richard Bushman (Gouverneur Morris Professor of History emeritus at Columbia University) - ((Gouverneur Morris was the guy who wrote the friggin constitution)) so naturally I asked if I could crash the party. The party, you see, was actually being held in Scottsdale/Phoenix where Doug's brother-in-law is the Stake President. Let's now rewind back about umpteen years from when I was 2 years old to 12 years old (6th grade) and living in the vicinity of 56th Street and Osborn. I went to Ingleside Elementary School (which is now Ingleside Middle School) which at the time was a K-8 school. When I was in 4th or 5th grade there was a new coach who started his teaching career/coaching career at Ingleside and was our new, crew-cut coach with an attitude.
Flash forward to the events following the amazing fireside with Dr. Bushman (Harvard BS, Harvard MS, Harvard PhD). After 'amen' we all stood and I saw a very familair older, crew-cut gentleman walking toward the refreshments. I said 'Bevel...' to which he reacted but didn't pursue as he continued walking toward the back. I followed him and eventually stopped him in the gym and asked him if he was Coach Bevel. He indicated that he was and I introduced myself. I said nothing about his hair. He remembered me, or at least pretended to, and I related the following story to him - thus proving that I used my head for more than just holding my ears apart as my father often said was its only purpose: "I remember when Coach Bevel first started at Ingleside and he was our new coach. We did and exercise called 'Six Inches' where the victim lies down on his back and raises his heels off the ground six inches. Then he waits. Not more than six inches. Not less than six inches. No bent knees. No feet apart. In fact, if he violates the prescribed leg position, Coach Bevel would throw the football he was holding at the victim - trying to hit him in the stomach - which by now contained a burning muscle straining against the ever-increasing weight of his legs. I was a victim once - I guess my feet weren't in the correct position and I heard Coach Bevel holler and then **BLAMM-O** a football hit right next to my head. You see, those who can't do, teach. And those who can't play quarterback coach in elementary school.
Fortunately, he laughed at my story. I told this story to his wife as he was listening and he actually began laughing when I started the story with "...we used to do this exercise called 'Six Inches'." I don't know why, but I have very fond memories of Coach Bevel. I also told him that when I was playing football for Westwood High School he was coaching at Scottsdale High School. I greeted him at the end of the game and he claims he sort-of remembered that brief meeting as well. He asked me who my contemporaries would have been that stayed around to play sports in later years. I named a few of my friends from Ingleside and he said he had actually received an email from one of them a week prior. Pretty cool.
After this encounter, I went back to the refreshment table and Debi was there - Coach Bevel came over and met her too. After he left, I saw another familiar face which was confirmed by Doug as John Driggs (former Chairman of Western Savings) so I went over and spoke with him. He was Wil's good friend and we spoke for a few minutes. I love it when I meet someone my dad knew because they invariably charished their friendship with Wil.
I'm amazed at the retrieval system we have. I can't imagine the memories stored there. I have taken to trying to remember these and start writing them down when I get a chance.
What a lovely evening.
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