Plus, my favorite teachers are now deceased. I loved you, Judy Massey and Tom Oliver.
I’m not so big on family reunions, either, although I’m not sure why. Maybe, it’s because you have to listen to your Crazy Uncle yammer on about what’s wrong with the world?
But there is a reunion that warms my heart every time. It’s the impromptu reunion of unexpectedly running into an old colleague or friend from your past life. It can set off shouts of joy and hugs all around.
Anyway, as I was watching the honorees take the stage for a brief moment in the spotlight, I noticed a couple of photographers who were recording the event.
Although his back was to me the entire time, I recognized one of the photographers as Rip Stell, whom I knew from my tenure at i2E, Inc., here in OKC. I couldn’t miss him because he was taller than the other photographer and wearing his signature black shirt.
So, after Steve and all the other CEOs had been honored, I saw Rip sitting at a table not too far from where the Care Providers Oklahoma team was seated.
I jumped up and began walking toward Rip when he saw me and quickly jumped up himself. Rip gave me a big bear hug and then gave me a photographer’s pose with his camera to his eye while I shot my usual bad iPhone pic.
We had only a few seconds to chat, but it was a grand reunion.
The Love’s Cup was sort of a rapid-fire event, which required Rip to be ready for group and individual shots one after the other. His photos were outstanding year after year, with an eye for both the posed and the candid shot.
EDITOR’S NOTE: For the third consecutive year, I’ve gone through my year in BlogOKC and pulled the posts that were most meaningful to me as a “best of” column. My favorite may be the one written by my daughter after she saved a roommate’s life in Florida. I was proud of her for jumping in when needed and also proud of her for the way she wrote of the experience. There are also links at the end of this ‘best of’ column that take you to other special blog posts worth reading, including three written as guest posts by friends. The subhead on each favorite blog post is also a link, so you can click through to the actual blog and read it in its entirety, if you choose. WordPress tells me BlogOKC had 7,024 visitors to this point in 2023. I thank you for reading my thoughts.
Sarah Stafford poses in her South Florida residence
For the past year and a half, my 24-year-old daughter, Sarah, has worked as a “tech” at drug-and-alcohol rehabilitation centers in South Florida. She is trained in CPR because of the potential for relapse and overdose of recovering addicts. Sarah is a recovering addict herself, and lives in a nearby home occupied by other recovering addicts with house rules that support their road to recovery. It’s not always easy, though. Temptation sometimes leads addicts to relapse with potential deadly consequences. This is Sarah’s story about a recent incident in her home.
I went back through my social media history this morning and came across a dozen or more Dilbert comic strips I have posted over the years. If you aren’t familiar with Dilbert, it’s an insightful, often hilarious syndicated comic strip that skewers corporate office life. It features Dilbert, an engineer, his co-worker Wally and the pointy-haired boss, among others. So, it hit me hard when a text over the weekend from a former co-worker at The Oklahoman delivered some devastating news. The paper is cancelling Dilbert, and for all the right reasons.
The Beatles from an early photo as they landed in New York City.
I was introduced to the Beatles in 1964 by my uncle. I was 11 and he was 19 and had purchased the album, ‘Meet the Beatles.’ In my extended family in 1964, buying something as worldly as a secular rock-n-roll record by the Beatles was a pretty bold step. My uncle told me he didn’t care for the music, even if the Beatles were a pop culture phenomenon. So, he gave me the album. Beatlemania washed over me like it did millions of other young Americans. I couldn’t get enough. As I was listening to a Beatles playlist on my iPhone today, it occurred to me what great storytellers, they were.
Bucky Dodd, Ph.D., founder & CEO of technology firm ClearKinetic, demonstrates an AI Chatbot at a recent OKC meeting.
“If you came here today for answers, I’m sorry, you will probably leave with more questions.” That’s how Bucky Dodd, Ph.D., a long-time educator and CEO of an educational technology startup called ClearKinetic, launched his presentation on Artificial Intelligence last week to a group of association executives at the OKC Convention Center. Dodd obviously follows author Stephen Covey and his 7 habits of a highly effective person. Begin with the end in mind. But Dodd’s presentation was more of a show-and-tell to his audience from the Oklahoma Society of Association Executives. He prompted a Chatbot to actually generate some amazing content for us.
I just read Jeff Speck’s “Walkable City: How Downtown Can Save America, One Step at a Time,” and I don’t know where to start with my reaction. Jeff Speck, you might remember, is the urban planner and author who advocates making urban areas pedestrian friendly to encourage both economic development and urban living spaces. He consulted with the City of OKC about 15 years ago that resulted in big changes downtown, especially in the elimination of most one-way streets. I worked downtown in the 1980s, and I can assure you there was little to brag about.
A page of the 1971 Southside High School yearbook, ‘Lifestyles’
I walked into Cattlemen’s Steakhouse a few weeks ago, made my way to a back booth and was greeted by someone I had not seen in 52 years. He was an old high school chum, so it was the ultimate class reunion.
I’ve written all of this because, as most people know by now, both Berry and Jenni are leaving the paper. They’re joining a new online venture called The Sellout, Sellout Crowd, or something like that. It should debut later this month, from what I understand. I got wind of Berry’s impending exit about three weeks ago and immediately sent him an email with the subject line “Say It Ain’t So.” Berry responded and said it was so. He said it’s a good thing, not bad, because readers who follow him and Jenni will be able to read their work in a free online newsletter.
Mike West with magazine opened to classified that advertised Keystone Labels for sale
Was it karma or divine coincidence? I write that because of how I recently met another outstanding couple. Except this time it wasn’t in church; it was at The Joinery restaurant in Bricktown back in October on the occasion of the Sellout Crowd launch party. Sellout Crowd is a new online sports reporting service that launched September 1. As I sat down at a table to consume some complementary food I carried from the buffet line, I found myself across from a couple who were unfamiliar to me. The couple introduced themselves as Mike and Tonia West. And did they have a story of divine coincidence.
The 3 Old Geezers are (from left) Steve Buck, Ed Godfrey, Jim Stafford
For me, the podcast confirmed that I’m more agile behind a keyboard than with a microphone in my face, while both Steve and Ed have shown the ability to be clever and entertaining on the run. If you haven’t listened yet, I invite you to listen to our latest episode, and then perhaps invest some time in the previous podcasts. We’re all Thunder fans, but take different approaches to our fandom and perceive the team slightly differently. In fact, one Geezer has a tendency to sleep right through some of the games.
Our driver poses outside the BRT bus at the Lake Hefner park-and-ride stop along the Northwest Expressway.
The Northwest line is one of at least three BRT routes planned by the city, with two others in the works for the south side and the Northeast corridor. MAPS 4 dollars are paying for the new BRT routes, according to this story from The Oklahoman. Anyway, the bus was clean and new with about 5 people already aboard in the back seating area. I took a seat in the middle, and we headed toward downtown OKC. So, the BRT route gets a big thumbs up from me, even though it doesn’t lend itself to my daily transportation needs.
The Dot Race as presented on the Texas Rangers scoreboard in the 1980s.
If you frequented the late All Sports Stadium to watch the Oklahoma City 89ers Triple A baseball team play during the 1980s, you probably were a fan of an animated scoreboard feature known as the Dot Race. A form of the Dot Race lives on in the 2020s as between-inning entertainment for the Texas Rangers and other Major League parks around the country. And as time has passed, few people recall that the Dot Race had its beginning as humble, white dots on the 89ers scoreboard in Oklahoma City.
A page of the 1971 Southside High School yearbook, ‘Lifestyles’
I walked into Cattlemen’s Steakhouse a few weeks ago, made my way to a back booth and was greeted by someone I had not seen in 52 years. He was an old high school chum, so it was the ultimate class reunion.
Turns out, my friend, whom I will call “Will,” was driving from New Mexico to Fort Smith to visit our home town for a few days. So, he contacted me to see if I would be up for a reunion as he passed through.
Would I? Of course!
We spent a wonderful hour and a half at a back booth catching up on our lives, families and reminiscing about days long past.
The real story is how Will found me. He told me he stumbled across this blog as he was searching for some high school classmates he had not seen in years. After reading a few BlogOKC posts, he decided to reach out, although he has no social media presence at all.
So his wife looked me up and discovered my Twitter profile. She sent me a direct message asking if I would be interested in meeting Will when he was passing through OKC.
I’ve thought of Will often over the years. He was from a well established Fort Smith family and had gone to public schools there since first grade. I moved into the school district my sophomore year only because my dad was in the Army and his military assignments took us as a family around the world. We came to Fort Smith when Dad went to Vietnam in 1969.
Being a ‘move-in’ with no local history in an old Southern town like Fort Smith was a big challenge for me. Making friends, eating lunch in the cafeteria, having a social life after school.
For some reason, Will sort of took me in. We played basketball on his driveway and connected in classes. As I recall, he was a member of the National Honor Society, wrote a column for the student newspaper and was on the Student Council, among many other school activities.
By contrast, I was sort of the Invisible Man at Southside. I had only heard of the National Honor Society, but had a secret dream to become a newspaper reporter some day. So, we had that in common.
Anyway, Will showed kindness and attention to me. After high school, he went on to college, eventually earning a master’s degree, moving to a distant state and working for social change.
I wandered aimlessly for a few years before gaining some direction by attending Abilene Christian University and earning a journalism degree. My secret dream actually came true.
Since I have never attended a single high school class reunion, I lost touch with Will along with the rest of my senior classmates.
Then he called.
There’s a lot of space to fill and life to live in 52 years. But reconnecting with my old classmate was the feel good event of the summer for me.
In a 1971 yearbook photo, Tom Oliver is shown editing students’ work as yearbook/newspaper advisor
As do a lot of communities around the country, someone from my hometown maintains a Facebook group called “If You Ever Lived in Fort Smith, Arkansas.”
I’m not on the Group’s page often, but it’s fun to occasionally scroll through and see what people are talking about.
Certain topics dominate the Fort Smith page: Dragging Grand Ave. in the ’70s … Enjoying a giant Worldburger of the past … and remembering stores like Hunt’s and The Boston Store that were once shopping mainstays.
About five years ago, a fellow Southside High School grad, Eddie Weller, posted about favorite Fort Smith teachers he recalled. Because I’m an Army brat, I only attended school in Fort Smith for three years.
But there was one teacher that certainly had an impact on my future. His name was Tom Oliver.
Mr. Oliver taught Journalism at Southside. I took Mr. Oliver’s class as a senior because I had a far-fetched dream of some day being a newspaper reporter.
So, I posted on the Facebook Group about Mr. Oliver being a memorable teacher, and it was like a call-and-response for a conversation that began five years ago and continues to stir memories today.
Here are some selected memories of Tom Oliver by his former students (Mr. Oliver died in the early 1990s, so it’s too bad he’s no longer around to read what his former students say.).
My original comment:
“My journalism teacher at Southside, Tom Oliver. Showed a lot of patience to a wanna be who had few skills in HS. I ended up making a career out of newspapers, so thanks to Mr. Oliver for encouraging me.”
Response from Eddie Weller:
“TO” as we called Mr. Oliver (but not to his face . . . ) … He did have patience. I remember senior year we rotated a column among the editorial board. I wrote a semi-funny one (tried to be humorous) for my first try. I used a phrase to get a chuckle that he asked me if I should use. He let me decide. He explained he was not sure my parents, for instance, would understand why I used the phrase. That was thoughtful on his part as a teacher. It made me really think — even a small phrase could make or break a mood you were trying to set. And “Ye Olde Pub” (the publications/journalism room for the uninitiated) was always a great place to be. He gave great freedom to the newspaper staff, yet knew when to reel it in. Truly an amazing teacher!”
From Sandra Curtis Kaundart:
“Tom Oliver, my mentor, was the greatest teacher ever! … I majored in journalism because of him, worked at a couple of small papers, later did my practice teaching with him, and ended up teaching journalism and English for 31 years.”
From Scott Carty:
“Tom Oliver was one of my heroes. i found one of his old yearbook pictures in the storage room and put mirror-headed thumbtacks thru his eyes and labeled it EltonTom. Made him smile.”
From Jim Morris:
“I had too much fun in his class. Just ask Scott Carty”
From David Yarbrough: “Tom Oliver didn’t do a lot of chalkboard teaching. He picked leaders (editors) and let those students fill their roles assigning stories and photos. He let them do the editing and design of the paper. Only occasionally did he make a quite suggestion. In the real world, you could compare him to a hand-off publisher who trusted his staff. He also encouraged students to explore all kinds of arts and studies. He took staffers to state and national conferences to open horizons.”
My own story isn’t anything spectacular. The student newspaper had a regular “Newsmakers” column of one-paragraph stories (emulating, I believe, a popular Page 1A “In the News” feature in the Arkansas Gazette), and I was assigned to write a Newsmaker item for each issue of the paper.
Did I tell you that I was terrible as a cub reporter? That one-paragraph Newsmaker assignment might as well have been a 10-page term paper.
But I managed to scrape something together for each edition, and Mr. Oliver gently edited my effort. Like all of my favorite teachers and professors over the years, he showed tremendous patience with me.
I remember Tom Oliver as being fairly young at the time and in tune with popular culture. His was a class that I looked forward to attending every single day. Similar to my favorite college professor, who also taught journalism.
I can’t tell you exactly what clicked for me, except perhaps the camaraderie of being around others that had an interest in journalism. Oh, and the thrill of seeing something you wrote in print.
In a touch of irony, years later, I served as Sports Editor of the Southwest Times Record in Fort Smith. Mr. Oliver worked part time for me on the Sport Desk on Friday nights during football season, helping us gather scores and write short summaries.
Mr. Oliver actually remembered me from my not-so-memorable one-year stint in his high school journalism class. He told me he was surprised that I pursued a newspaper career because he wasn’t sure that I had the interest as a student.
I guess my candle didn’t burn too brightly in high school. But I did have a dream.
Thank you, Tom Oliver, for being an encouraging teacher and not steering me away from the far-fetched dream of the 17-year-old me.
Tom Oliver’s (second from left) 1971 Southside High School yearbook photo
Jim Stafford's BlogOKC 