click to read comments about Chuck Ruby, and listen to a radio commentary about his life. Chuck passed away on 6/20/08 from complications of a stroke. He had been living in Kenoska, WI. http://www.wksu.org/news/story/22114
This was found in the Seattle papers: James L. MACPHERSON, Jr. Born Missoula, MT. Died January 20, 2004 in Seattle, WA. at the age of 53, surrounded by the love of his family and friends. As he requested, there will be no service. Many thanks to the VA Puget Sound Healthcare System for their good care and kindness. Fly high, Jaybird - We'll miss you always.
from Doug's wife, Linda: I want to take this moment to let you and whomever is interested know that my husband Milton "Doug" Cook died on January 22, 2011. It was a happy crossover and he died with a smile on his face as he left behind immense pain from an aggressive and fast spreading form of cancer.
from Cindi (Talle Gilmore 's sister): Talle had Breast cancer..a survivor of 8 years..a double mastectomy, years in remission, a third recurrence last November. Strength and grace, pure love all describe her. She died in my arms... With our dear sister in law Jill Crawford Gilmore ( Bay) and Talle's loving husband of 40 years, John right there at her side, along with her son Mike, a lasting blessing to us.
from a friend of Jackson Sullivan - Jack Died in 2003 in Thailand. I don't know how but he was married at the time with a nurse from Seattle. He had a son. I tried to find him but was sadly disappointed to find out he had passed at such a young age. He did move around a lot. New York State to California to Seattle and Texas. I assumed he was following his Music career.
Obituary for Ned Chapman, deceased in 2019 (he died the weekend of our 50th reunion!)
From his brother Steve: I am sad to report to you that a class of 1969 member has passed away, my brother, Daniel Webster. Dan passed away last night, May 18, 2020 from cancer. I have also sent this information to the Bay Alumni email address that handles the Shoreline. Dan’s passing is a huge loss to our family.
If you click on an individual picture, then you will see it a little closer.
As stories are told about classmates who have left - we will post them here. Feel free to share your memories by sending them to Sandi.
A special memory about:
Phil Zillmann (Dan Smith) - With deep regret we inform you of a classmate’s passing. Philip Zillman went to be with the Lord this January (2021). He has a wonderful family and is survived by sister Marlane Zillmann Renner and brother Kurt Zillmann. He expired from pulmonary complications secondary to COVID-19.
Phil was active in the photography club and wrestled. Phil loved the outdoors and was an Eagle Scout. With a low draft number, he enlisted in the Air Force and was stationed in South Korea where he met his wife. They were blessed with a beautiful daughter, Kris. Philip loved sailing and swimming. Regretfully, he suffered a Lake Erie swimming accident while participating in a race. He nearly drowned and was resuscitated. Unfortunately, he suffered severe cerebral anoxia resulting in subsequent lifetime impairment. Although impaired for twenty-one years, he always smiled and was full of life. Wheelchair bound and in assisted living, he was grateful and a pleasure to everyone. It was a blessing and honor to be his friend. Through the dedicated care and love of his sister, Philip passed comfortably. God will be calling for all of us someday. Let us all rejoice in the days we have left and look forward to his grace.
Dan Webster(Mike Manos) - I truly am saddened at Dan's moving on. He was a lasting friend. I always valued the time we spent together. We once visited in Colorado a number of years ago. Dan took me for a walk on the mountainside by his home. We ended up on a low ridge among some trees where he sat on a log and I sat on a rock. We spent the afternoon talking. I remember telling him about a time I stood in my apartment on Punch Bowl in Honolulu in the late afternoon, looking out over the ocean a half mile away. Scattered clouds drifted over the waves. It was a moment of serenity and peace that was unusual to my experience at the time. While describing this transcendent moment, I looked at Dan. He completely got it, he knew exactly what I was saying as if he himself experienced it (which he probably did). There’s a union, a relationship with people that occurs with some and not with others. I had that deep relationship with Dan Webster not because of who I am but because of who he was; he was a man with a natural capacity to be with people. As boys, we would meet on mornings when I walked to Normandy Elementary (recall that, back then, we all walked to school). Dan lived across the street from the school front entrance. He would come and join me the last 100 yards to Normandy and in that short trek, we found bugs, watched the clouds, threw rocks into puddles, and did what boys do. Dan is one of those people for whom I have an honest, grounded affection. That compatibility never went away despite distance and time, it was always there, and it always showed up when we were together. Dan Webster made the world a better place. He is a man we will miss.
Dan Webster (by Eric Sandstrom) - Dan Webster and I enjoyed hiking mountains together. Here’s a memory from a few years ago. As two gray-haired fools pretending to be young, we set out to climb Mount Stratus in Rocky Mountain National Park. This mountain rises 12,461 feet above sea level, and requires an arduous day of heart-pounding trekking over boulders to reach a chilly summit. The air is very thin up there. Fueled by coffee and adrenalin, we tramped up through lodgepole pines on a sunny June morning. Our conversation ranged from our old high school days, our football games and girlfriends, to favorite books and Irish music, our wives and kids. We were breathing just as hard as we once did during two-a-day football practices in summer. Once above we timberline, we crossed miles of green tundra. Ahead there rose several hundred feet of vertical rock as far as the eye could see.
Wind gusts nearly knocked us off our feet on the trail. By early afternoon, things looked too risky. The chance of a fall from a precipitous ledge was much better than we gambled on. It got so windy that my cap blew off before I knew it. Webster took off like a halfback chasing a fumbled pigskin. He must’ve sprinted 50 yards before retrieving it, an old Chicago Cubs cap that, like us, had seen better days. He handed it to me with his classic Zen-like grin and we turned around before gaining the summit. This memory of Webster capturing my old hat will stay with me forever. He could have yelled, “There goes your hat.” Instead, he reacted like the athlete he was to the very end. He chased it across the side of mountain where oxygen was low and for that brief moment, our friendship was golden.
One of his last letters arrived in my mailbox a few months ago. It ended with this eloquent description of his day: “So I look and watch a lot from whatever vantage I can get. Sometimes, it’s the warmth of the front porch protected from the wind on a sunny day with a book or two at hand and sometimes not reading at all and gazing off into the distance with nowhere to be and nowhere to go…”
Dan Webster (by Tom Ferchau) It was a shock and very sad news that Dan passed. He was a good teammate,a trusted friend, and all around great person.I regret not staying in better communication with him. The memories from Bay High will have to suffice.I will miss his humor, music, and friendship.
Ned Chapman (by Randy Perry) - I really liked him. He was funny, smart, self-effacing, maybe a little shy, and a remarkable athlete. He was one of the five starters on our freshman basketball team but after that year just ran track, cross-country in the Fall and track and field in the Spring. I still remember one track meet in a 4x440 relay. His team was about 75 yards back when he took the baton for the anchor lap and ran down the leader to win the race.
Ned Chapman (by Mike Manos) Ned was just a downright good man. Ned and Kent Wadsworth and I used to be outside every Saturday to see what we could get into. One day in mid Spring, probably 51 years ago from today, it was late in the day and it had been rainy and the Creek by Ned's house was swollen with rushing water, magnitudes deeper and faster than its usual, slow 8 inches. Somewhere we found an abandoned cement tub. We tied 5 innertubes around the tub, threw it in the water, hopped in and rode it all the way to the Lake. We had only one mishap when we came to a fallen tree across the creek. Of course, it tipped us over but when you’re 17, who cares. Indomitably and laughing like fools, we caught the cement tub and hopped right back in. It was getting dark as we skimmed into the Lake in the dusky evening. I do not recall how we got home from there. I think we called Ned's mom or sister or someone from a pay phone and she came and got us and gave us a ride. We never bragged about that adventure much given that we each of us was quiet and shy. But I can still feel the exhilaration of being with your friends and having an impromptu adventure.
Don Burson (by Eric Sandstrom):One thing I’ve never forgotten about Don, even though we weren’t high school pals, he went to Vietnam at a time when the war was at its worst in terms of casualties. I greatly admired his courage, and the genuine character it took to serve our country.
Don Burson (by Pat Carlson Love): Don was one of the first people I met in Bay. He sat in front of me in Mrs. Thompson's third grade class, and the image of his tow head is permanently fixed in my memories of childhood. We often passed notes back and forth in class, and I remember him as being quiet and more gentle than the other boys. In early spring of third grade, soon after the ice had melted, Chip DuVall and I were playing chicken on the monkey bars, and I crashed on the gravel, fracturing my left tibia. Don helped me get to the school bus after school every day, and carried my lunch box and papers. This world shall miss your warm and gentle ways, Don Burson, but I'm consoled knowing that your infinite energy is shared among us, now, and always. Stephanie Resch Berget (by Patricia Carlson Love) - Stephanie lived a powerful life centered in Christian faith in the Harrisburg, PA area, and dedicated a great deal of time in service to the homeless and lifeline support groups with her husband, Harry. She enjoyed singing and playing the banjo, and her growing family. Her first grandchild- Hosanna Joy - was born this recent June 30, 2013. She passed of pancreatic cancer.
Stephanie Resch Berget (by Jim Kilgore): I remember her from Sr. High Fellowship @ Bay Presbyterian. Stephanie was a beautiful & kind person - inside & out. I'm sure she made a huge impact and positive difference in the lives of so many. Her suffering is through, but her life now is brighter than ever.....for all eternity.
Jim McPherson (by Mark Griffin) - I just wanted to say how sorry I was to hear about Jim’s death. Mac and I were good friends and as happens with a lot of people I lost touch with him years ago. Most of the stories that Mac and I did I can’t really repeat. But there’s one I think everyone would get a kick out of… One night we got stopped by the cops for something (could have been anything at that time), and the cop checked our ID’s. Mac was born in Missoula Montana and I was born in Brooklyn, NY. And the cop looked at the two ID’S and said: “How’d you two ever get together!” We had a lot of good laughs and times together. He was always a good friend to me. Rest in Peace, Mac. I’ll see you on other side.
Jim McPherson (by Mark Handren)- I always remember what a great sense of humor Jim had. I think back to some times a group of us went to the old Drive-in out on Brookpark Avenue and Jim had us all rolling in laughter the whole night. And he always talked about Missoula, Mont. and the West and how beautiful it was. And sure enough he went out there to college for a while. I made a point to go travel through Western Montana and thought of him often. It is beautiful! God Bless ya Jim
Linda Belser Ruscher (by Jim Kilgore)- Somehow I have graciously been extended a place with the Class of 1969. We all have many fond memories with our classmates, during the school years and beyond. I most recently chatted with Linda at Marcia (Danielson) Lowe's father's memorial service in January 2008. But it was seeing her 12 years ago at Bay Presbyterian Nursery School that spoke volumes about her kindness, compassion and incredible sense of humor (what a great laugh see had)! My wife and I were picking up our son Ted from her class and I heard so much about the class and his teacher - Mrs. Ruscher. I had no idea who Mrs. Ruscher was - until I saw Linda Belser there. I recognized her and went over to introduce myself. However before I could speak, see approached me with that great winsome grin, "Jimmy Kilgore, you son Teddy reminds me of you and our days in Kindergarden at Normandy School". She went on reminiscing about classroom stories that I have long forgot. Linda was the kind of person who made you feel like you were one of her dear friends.......she did that with me and I know with so many of you, as well.
Bill (Wink) Goswisch (by Marcia Danielson) - After our senior year performance of “The Music Man,” David Jacobs Jr. had a big cast party. I had never seen such a spread of food…it was sub sandwiches, etc., but for the “times” it was lavish…we were lucky to get chips at our home. Anyway, Wink and I got tired of the party and took “a few” subs with us and drove to the airport. At 11pm at night it wasn’t very busy but we walked the terminal hallways, singing 5th Dimension tunes, etc. and passing out sandwiches to anyone who looked like they needed a helping hand. We laughed a lot that night. Debbie Herrick (by Pat Carlson Love)- We had the Rockettes and Cheerleaders behind the Bay Rockets football team, but few may recall that it was Debbie who kept the band at spirited marching pace with the bass drum. You might even say she was the band's pep team leader at each touchdown. Everything she did yielded 125% positive vibes, which is, likely, why she ended up a very popular Ursuline nun. What a great gal!
Tom Day (by Chuck Jamison) - Tom and I had been friends since elementary school activities facilitated our acquaintance, despite the fact we attended different schools. Over the years of elementary, junior high (no middle school in those days), high school and college our friendship continued and evolved into one of mutual respect for our individual unique qualities layered over our common heritage of being raised in suburban Bay. To this day I can yet feel the shock and emptiness prompted by a phone call to my apartment in Columbus in the spring of 1974 informing me of his death in New Jersey. Describing and remembering Tom; never could quite get the “athletic physique”, despite his intermittent dedication to his “The Beach is That Way” program; a somewhat eclectic and wide ranging appreciation for differing music and musical approaches; an interest in differing peoples and experiences, and a thirst to experience them. A lifelong interest in history and literature, something we could share from near or far. Tom’s talents and interests were many and still developing. His passion for life and energy were always those of youth who awakes each day wide eyed with expectation of what experience might lie in wait! Despite the passage of years, his memory remains with me, the @%$# eating grin as he debarks from his car at our rental house in Portage Lakes, pewter flagon in hand, eagerly awaiting our next conversation (and the Iron City he knew was in the refrigerator)!
Thomas Kelly Day – 11/8/50 – 2/28/76. “Had to leave the party early…”
Bonnie Klemm Bunevich (by Bruce Bunevich)- If you remember, our teachers usually assigned seats on the first day of class, but it wasn't the case in Mr. Maben's 9th grade biology class. I was sitting at the two-student table when two girls came into the room. Christine (or was it Carol?) Haberstroh and Bonnie Klemm. They were laughing and joking and wanted to sit together but Mr. Maben broke them up. Christine sat behind me, and Bonnie sat down next to me. Bonnie and I began as the usual ninth grade girl-has-to-sit-next-to-boy-in-class relationship. Our friendship grew closer over the next few months because we worked really well together in class, joked, and laughed a lot. During one class in the late fall, Mr. Maben showed a movie. Of course, the only light in the room was coming from the projector. I was leaning forward on the desk with my arms folded. Bonnie leaned forward, moved her chair closer to me, and slid her hand under my elbow to discretely hold my hand. We remained holding hands for the entire movie. Shortly after that, she accepted my ID bracelet and we were officially "going steady." That's how it all started. And the rest, as they say, is history. Bonnie died of breast cancer in January,1993 . She was 42. Bill (Wink) Goswisch (by Pat Carlson Love) - Bill "Wink" Goswisch and I became buddies in junior high school and stuck close together, even when we both moved on to New York to begin our careers. For years we'd meet for coffee and a walk thru Central Park every Sunday morning, without fail. We protested the Vietnam War on 5th Avenue, auditioned for Broadway shows side by side, and sneaked backstage to meet Liza Minelli at the Waldorf. We truly grew up together, became adults together, and so Wink's twinkle and good nature are slipped in my side pocket wherever I go to this day.
Linda Belser Ruscher (by Randy Perry) - I wasn't a good correspondent once I left Bay but whenever I was back there I always made a point of calling or stopping by to see Linda. I was fortunate to have met Steve and was delighted she found such a suitable match. You'll recall she was one of the eight women who were 2-year NHS members. She was a smart cookie as well as being a warm person. I trusted her sensibilities and I trusted her advice. I last talked to her by telephone in September of 2007 when I went to the first Bay sports hall of fame induction. I just assumed I would get to see her again this July. As joyous as it will be so see old friends, her absence will be felt by all who knew and liked her, and that's quite a few.
Jim Ash (by Kirk Gorman) - Jim was a gentle soul with an engaging, ready smile. He played catcher with many of us from Little League through High School. Perhaps his greatest passion was his Plymouth muscle car which he kept shiny and in immaculate condition.
Marcia Schmid (by Debbie Popp) - Marcia was in BHS choir, sang second soprano, accompanied the choir, and was in Choraleers (as was I). Marcia and I also shared French class, starting in 7th grade, with the "film-text" course that emphasized conversational fluency. We took French for five years, through the 12th grade, by which time we were pretty fluent. We practiced this nearly every night in long telephone conversations - completely in French - so that listening ears (in her case, mostly her brothers, and in my case, my mother) would not know what we were talking about! Marcia was a brilliant, dedicated student as well as a dear friend.
Marcia Schmid (by Patty Carlson) - Marcia was the backbone for the choir and Choraleers, as she volunteered to serve as our regular piano accompanist. She ably kept up with each vocal arrangement and Curt Crews' direction, without losing a beat. We couldn't have performed without her and I hope that music filled her life through to its finish. Thank you, Marcia, and Godspeed.
Gerry Stueber (by Eric Sandstrom) - Many classmates knew him far better than I, yet this news about Stueb saddens me deeply. His work ethic on the Rockets gridiron, where we were teammates, was unparalleled. Above all, he was genuine.
Gerry Stueber (by Greg Ellis) - It was with a sad and heavy heart that I learned of Gerry's passing. He was not only a terrific classmate and teammate but was also a close and wonderful friend. I will always cherish the memories he and I shared during those formative high school years, from working out trying to get ready for those grueling two-a-day August football practices to prepping for our driver licenses. I distinctly remember Gerry and I promising to never tell anyone of our illicit premature joy ride in his parent's car one week before he got his driver's license. The 10 minute trip around the block at 10 miles an hour in the middle of the night was an evening I remember to this day. Gerry and I just recently exchanged Christmas cards and I told him how much I was looking forward to seeing him at our 50th reunion next year. I wanted to catch up on what was going on in his life and family. I guess that may have to wait for perhaps another time...
Gerry Stueber (by Patty Carlson) - Gerry and I were close friends throughout high school and for years after. He visited me in NYC once and we rode bikes thru the city streets, from Central Park down to Chinatown, gabbed about everything, from Choraleers to the war in Vietnam and dreams for a world of peace. I'll not forget his outspoken passion for a perfect world and his husky, sweet voice of reason. Miss you.
Gerry Stueber (by Bruce Bunevich) - After the football team dinner, Gerry and I walked the old football field from goal post to goal post the night of our last home game as seniors. Gerry wanted to do this because we were going to be the last class to play on the original home field. We both tore off a piece of the blue crepe paper that spiraled the uprights so we could remember the honor and pride we had as seniors to close the historic field.I have fond memories of growing up with Gerry. I still have the blue paper from the goalpost.