When I attended school in Oak Park from 1948-1957, there were six guys who I considered great friends.
I met Ron Dibbern in sixth grade when he moved to Oak Park from Chicago. Ron and I played a lot of softball on the Holmes School diamond. We played basketball at both his home and mine, and when we could, Ron and I and a number of other guys played tag football at Holmes. Ron and I frequently studied history together at the Main Library where his mother was a librarian and allowed us to go into the adult section for research purposes.
Bob Guillemin was the happiest and most optimistic guy I ever knew. He was never flustered and always had a smile on his face. He lived on the 600 block of Kenilworth, next door to the Hemingways former home. He and I often walked home from high school since we lived just two and a half blocks apart from each other. Bob once told me that although the Hemingway home was privately owned, he often saw people seeking admittance to the home just to see Ernest’s bedroom.
Mike Moffat moved to Oak Park from Mississippi at the beginning of our junior year of high school. We became friends in Mr. Thompson’s American literature class, as we spent time together figuring out Mr. Thompson’s rather ambiguous class notes. Mike and I discovered we both shared a strong liking for checkers, so on many Saturday afternoons, we would either meet at his home or he would come to mine. Sometimes I had a difficult time understanding what he said because of his Southern accent, but he would gladly repeat what he had said, and I gradually learned to understand him as I developed a “Southern” ear.
Cliff Rierson and I shared a great love for baseball — both the game and the statistics — which we discussed during our lunch period. He and I also discerned on what our English literature teacher based her grades. It turned out she wasn’t too interested in the repetition of facts, more on the oral analyses of the why and how of what we read. Knowing this, Cliff and I kept our respective hands in the air to answer as many questions as possible. We were successful.
Joe Stoklas’ locker was next to mine for four years, and we were in the same homeroom for four years. Before our junior year, Joe and his family moved to Wenonah Avenue from North Cuyler, so he and I walked to Lake and Oak Park after school, and he would walk south, and I would walk north to our respective homes. Occasionally, we would stop at the Acadia Restaurant on Oak Park Avenue for a soft drink, but the cigarette smoke was too thick for us, so we quit stopping and walked our separate ways home. Often I would meet up with Bob Guillemin, also heading north.
George Warren and I met in seventh grade when he moved to Oak Park from Lawton, Oklahoma. George was a fine athlete, and we spent many summer afternoons playing softball and/or baseball with other neighborhood guys. He had a sidearm fastball that was devastating, and in a snowball fight you wanted George on your side. He was a very kind, outgoing guy who had many friends.
All of these guys meant a great deal to me. Maybe you knew some of them.