It was a real nostalgia trip going over the old class pictures you posted on
your website. I can't tell you how many memories came flooding back to my
brain. It just goes to show that we really never forget anything.

I came to Ft. MicKinley in the middle of 7th grade. My step dad was a
teacher and it seemed we moved all over the Dayton school system moving to
the suburbs as time went on.

We lived on Monroe avenue; a circle drive where I lived next to the Tiptons,
two doors down from Jim Miller on one side and James Jackson on the other.
The Lamentias and the Pavelkas were also on Monroe Avenue. We all spent
many hard, long summer days and weekends on that street playing baseball,
kickball, riding bikes and hopping the fence to go to the Big Boy.

I noticed Magill in your reunion photos. I actually met him after all these
years at the Meadowdale '73 reunion. It was goods to see him again and ya,
know, he hasn't changed much.

Memories of Mrs. Townsend

My home room teacher was Mrs. Townsend and there was an incident where she
attacked me and began choking and scratching my neck. That was an ordeal.
What happened was we were lined up to leave for the day and if you remember
the teachers would turn the classroom lights off and have us stand in line
(boys in a single file from the door to the back of the room and the girls
in a single file next to us).

As usual, I wanted to be at the back of the line. A couple of us guys, Mike
Powell and some others were cutting up and out rang Mrs. Townsend,
"Reynolds, get in line!" I then replied, "OK, Townsend!" Boy, did that
tick her off.

She came rushing back to me, grabbed my arm and jerked me up to the front of
the room while choking and lifting me up off the ground, digging her long
fingernails into my throat. When she got me to the front of the line, she
was screaming and yelling,(can't remember) in a rage. I was quite
traumatized and when I went home my mother wanted to know what had happened
to my neck and I told her. The next morning was a heated meeting with Mrs.
Townsend, my mother and the principal.

This was a time when teachers still had some disciplinary control over their
students and paddling and punishment was acceptable. If that happened
today, I'm sure she would have lost her job. I never hated her over the
incident. She did go a little too far but someday I'd like to talk to her
about it.

Mr. Anello

My first exposure to school sports was at Ft. McKinley and my basketball
coach, Mr. Anello. Being a little guy anyway, Mr. Anello towered over us
all. But I do remember doing tryouts for the basketball team even though I
had little athletic ability. I don't know why my picture wasn't in the '68
basketball team picture but neither was Stanley McIntosh's or Steve Burtons
who were also on the team. My number was 43 and that jersey absolutely
swallowed me alive. I seem to remember pinning it behind me just to keep
the thing from falling off.

We had such a small gym and one of the smallest schools that we got so used
to playing in our miniature sized gym that we didn't perform well at some of
the newer schools. I remember that most of us couldn't either shoot a
free-throw without stepping over the line or didn't have the skill or
strength to shoot one so Mr. Anello had us all to shoot our free-throws
underhanded.

That was a little embarrassing for all of us even the star players like Jim
Miller and Jim Harville.

I remember one game where I was allowed to play at an away game and I
remember being absolutely terrified. My knees were knocking and my mouth
was dry. As luck would have it when the ball bounced off the rim of the
other teams attempted shot, I jumped up at the right time and came down with
it. Amazing but what would I do with it now.

Everything Mr. Anello had taught us about the finer points of Basketball
just went out the window and all I could think of doing at that moment was
to dribble. Mr. Anello had harped on us about the importance of controlling
the ball and had set up folding chairs in the miniature Ft. McKinley
drilling us on left-hand then right had dribbling in and out and around
these chairs.

That is all I could think of doing at that particular time . . . dribble. I
ended up in a corner of the court and a pile of players mowed me down with
me trying to hold onto the ball. The referee blew his whistle and I got
fouled. Here was my chance to be a real part of the team and come away with
at least one point that could be added to record books of Ft. McKinley
sports. I looked over at Mr. Anello as I stood on the free-throw line and
he gave me his hand signal to shoot an underhanded foul shot.
I wanted so badly to shoot the damn ball over handed but didn't. I
positioned myself just like I practice and drew the ball back between my
legs, looked up at the basket like I'd done many times before at practice
and let her fly.

Now I missed the shot completely and I think I can say that the ball just
whisked the bottom edge of the net but if I had had that game in the Ft.
McKinley gym, it would have been a swoosh. I'll always remember Mr. Anello
giving me the chance to play. I still remember how big his heart was for
all of us to want to learn the game of basketball. He definitely had an
influence on my life after Ft. McKInley.

I remember a lot more about those days at Ft. McKinley. I have vivid
stories about the "Tunnel", "make-out" parties, the "Hair" musical many of
us performed at other schools in Miss Hunt's class, my bicycle with banana
seat and butterfly handlebars, the Keyhole where I'd get a Vernors soda and
a vinegar sausage everyday after school, discovering Deep Purple, Jimi
Hendrix, Led Zepplin and falling in love with many of the girls at Ft.
MCKinley.

Dan Reynolds
Class of 1969