While my brother,Paul Barresi (I believe his wrestling record of 1966-67 has yet to be broken),was attending GDHS; I, Tom Barresi was "studying" at the University of the Philippines, in Manila. Both of us enjoying our civilian status at Subic Bay. On the weekends, I would have occassion to run around with Mr. Jake Fincher.All I can say about this guy is I'm sure he died "with his boots on". One night in Olongapo, Then a real Sadom and Gamora, Jake, upon getting a tatoo of a confederate flag on his butt,(didn't want his folks to see it),proceded to sell articles of
his clothing to the "locals", so we could have plenty of San Miguel. He was a James Dean type of character and I'm a better person, for having gotten "loaded" with him, many ,many times.

In addition to Jake, I'm pleased to say, I knew,and dated, Miss Carlene Stevens. A real product of the sixties, independent,caring,and very sensitive, but not really a hippy.In fact, I just heard a song entitled,"Sit down I think I love Ya" by the Mojo Men, cir.1967,and I started to cry. For it was the very same song that she had dedicated to me one humid night, from the base radio station back in 1967 .I tried to connect with her again in 1977, in Hanford ,Ca. ,but we couldn't pull it off.I believe she died shortly thereafter. Well, there you have it, just two unique personalities, teen-agers, who were trying to exist during a "crazy" war,which was being fought just 300 miles on the other side of the Red China Sea.In Jake's case however, that "war" was fought in every bar in town, with anyone who didn't care for his "ascot".

With fond memories and deep
respect, I am Tom Barresi, UP 1966-68.

e-mailjtltd@yahoo.com

November 13, 2000

This letter is dedicated to Christine Deleon,

As I was in my basement the other day, I had found my yearbooks from GDHS, PROMINENCE (84) and OPTIMUM (85) and and revisited a familiar name and a familiar passage, that of Christine Deleon. I would like to share to you my memories of her, 16 years later after I had returned stateside.

She was a very good friend of mine, and as all good friends, we had our ups and downs. We knew each other for 3 out of the 4 years I had lived there.

She was an intelligent and beautiful young woman, prospering to go far in life. She had a good head on her shoulders and always went the extra mile to help someone. Without her I would have failed Spanish, but it was her that kept pushing me to do better.

We often sat together on the bus to Binictican, that was where we had both lived. Me on First Street and her on the Corner on Easy Street, southside. We had many converstaions on that bus, but those are between me and her.

I was saddened when I had found out that she had perished in 1988 in an earthquake. What a tragedy. I often review my yearbooks and always look for her passages for encouragement. That was the kind of person she was. To this day in 2000, my memory of her is vivid and will always remain.

I can only hope that when I get to heaven, that she will remember and greet me. I hope that I was as special to her as she was to me.

In Loving memory

Joshua Andrews
Matt: 6:33

My dear wife, Betty Hall, taught English at GDHS. She died 30 April 1999 from cancer
We were in Subic Bay July '85-July '88. I served as Command Chaplain.
Betty loved teaching and thoroughly enjoyed our time at Subic.

- John L. Hall

It was the best of times and the worst of times in my life back then because hey, it was high school. I always seeked refuge in Mr. Scales class. Drama was the only way I could escape who I was. And there was a lot of pressure in wearing my mask and playing my part daily. I had so much weight to carry with my name. I wanted to be someone else and drama class was the only way I could escape. I would sit in his class. There weren't any desks. About half a dozen big round tables scattered the room. I would sit there and watch him eat his lunch. He always had single-packaged moist towelletes handy. And his hair! Not one out of place in a pompadour style. But it suited him. He would chat with me about my progress. And he could see right through me. He could tell I was having good or bad days. I felt a real bond with him. And I felt special that he could read me and my moods. But I later found out he was like that with most of his students.

I had the priviledge of going to Far East for a drama and debate festival in Okinawa. I was a Freshman. I was the youngest one there. But we had such brilliant talent and wonderful people and we had Mr. Scales! It was so much fun meeting new people and bonding with those who represented George Dewey High. With all of these dramatic actors and sharp debators it was like MTV's Road Rules meets The Real World!! Lot's of drama off stage, in other words.

I had one mission, though. I was going to charm this audience. I was going for gold. I had a solo classical piece and a solo contemporary piece. I wanted to win gold so bad I could taste it. Afterall, I rehearsed and dug in my soul and felt real emotion and wept and laughed and raged til I couldn't see straight!! I deserved it. And I couldn't let Mr. Scales down.

I lost. I was devastated. During the award ceremony I couldn't take the disappointment anymore. I excused my sorry self and went to the ladies room. I could feel Mr. Scales eyes following me as I quietly left the table. The room was spinning and the constant applause for the winners was making me ill. I made it behind the saftety of closed bathroom doors. I wept like a loser.

A knock at the door. A knock at the door? who knocks on the door of a public bathroom?

"Ms. Stauffer, are you okay? Please come out here when you're ready."

Yikes! He can't see me like this! He'll think I'm a sore loser! I took a deep breath and exited the bathroom. There was Mr. Scales with tears welled in his eyes. And he reached out and hugged me.

"You gave it your best shot, Lyzz."

Oh my God, he called me Lyzz! I nodded. Speechless. Tears just flowing like the Nile.

"You didn't win gold because your platinum," he said with his voice wavering.

I choked and it was a great moment. It was the best award I ever lost.

When Mr. Scales passed, I went into some kind of depression. Aside from my own father, he was the best teacher I ever had. I couldn't talk about him for awhile but I remember speaking at his memorial. I don't remember what I said. It was all a blur. I didn't quite know how to digest and decode all of the emotions I was going through.

But that next year, I went to the same drama and debate tournament in Okinawa. I won gold in all of my categories. And I dedicated each one to him in silence. And I remember looking up at the sky as if he were watching and I remembered his empowering words he said to me that night, and I felt a sweet vindication and closure.

Wherever you are, Mr. Darwin Scales, you will NEVER be forgotten. And Thank you.

Elizabeth Stauffer