How To Talk Like a South Dakotian By Alice Laird Rapport

The next time you head across the crick to yer old stompin' grounds, lookin' for a hot dish and some pop fer supper, stop spittin' seeds, go to the biffy, warsh yer hands, say yer grace, fill yer white plate with white bread (slathered with salad dressing, never mayo), white potatoes, white cauliflower, and a white chicken breast — and don't call it dinner if yer at the neighbors who live kitty corner cuz they're feathers are pertnear ruffled already. 

If you go hog wild and bust up the place, leave a hunnert on the couch on yer way back to yer neck o' the woods. Ya sher, you betcha, that's the god's honest truth.

By Alice Laird Rapport

Not long after I started working in Washington, D.C., I announced to my coworkers that I was going to the snack bar for a "pop." 

Well, that got me several questioning looks. So, that was the start of my learning to speak in East coast terms, albeit begrudgingly. I found that sometimes it's the words themselves and sometimes it's the pronunciation. And, sometimes it's a phrase or expression.

Carole Tonigan and I have been having fun compiling the following examples of some of the very local-Aberdeen words and expressions that we all grew up saying.

Please add to our list in the comments section and please keep talking the South Dakota way, wherever you may be.

Our Words

Pop, not soda

Filling station, not gas station

Hot dish, not casserole

Kitty corner, not catty corner

Supper, not dinner? When is supper, anyway?

You betcha, just because we say it — and sometimes after, Yah, shur.
Okey-dokey, not just okay

Drouth, not drought

Pertnear, not pretty near

Couch, not sofa

Biffy (where did this come from?), rather than restroom

Yeah and/or ya--another just because we say it

Our Pronunciations

Creek, pronounced "crick"

Roof and root, we say them with a "short u," not a "long u"

For, sounds like fer, as in, We bought that bike fer about a hunnert bucks.
Hundred, pronounced hunnert

Wash, usually has an "r", as in warsh

Coyote, any USD person knows the e on the end is silent

Our Expressions
My old stomping grounds

Our neck of the woods

In a jiffy

If I had my druthers

Slow as molasses in January

Knee high to a grasshopper

Ruffle your feathers

Come with

Hog wild

Spittin' seeds, as in sunflower seeds

Aberdeen Civic Arena Brings Back Special Memories by Jo Davis

Jo with Meadowlark Lemon

As I read the blog about the Aberdeen Civic Arena, fuzzy memories in my mind brought back images of events that I attended, including the Harlem Globetrotters, the Shrine Circus, and musical concerts.    I'm sure my dad thought that the Globetrotters would spark an interest in sports for me.  Jesus Christ Superstar was the first non-Beatle album I literally wore down the grooves. 

It also brought back the stage events that provided a shape for my life direction.  Before attending Central, I was a Girl Scout in Mrs. Ray's Troop for a limited period.  Aberdeen was privileged to host the National Girl Scout Jamboree.  I think we had a huge camp out as an ice-breaker and it seemed like there were 5,000 teenage girls with their leaders, badges, sashes and scout related items to gush over.  The theme that year had to do with choices in life, if I remember right.  Careers, maybe.  Recognition of jobs?  Anyway, each troop had designated professions to work with.

 I remember wearing a maternity smock and holding a cardboard painting palette to represent ARTISTS of the world. Pretty sure Picasso was turning in the grave.

Girl Scout Troop Camping

Mrs Ray thought my height could also be best used to portray a tall president. Thus, onto the stage went the gangliest Abraham Lincoln with a tall stovepipe hat, courtesy of moms craftiness, and a charcoal beard, thanks to my dads burnt cork make-up. The compliment I got was a handshake and a nod saying "Mr President" afterwards from my dad who looked like he had gotten something in his eye. 
 

President Jo Davis

If I had stage fright, I didn't know. I was focusing on just walking. None of my career visions materialized. Not a June Taylor dancer, nor an airline stewardess, a veterinarian, and window dresser. It was the age of dreaming big.  The next and last time in the Civic Auditorium was the life altering graduation. Again, just focusing on walking across, not falling down, gripping that diploma like it was a life support and not forgetting to breathe.

The hugeness of that space was overwhelming at age 17, going on 25. At the 45th reunion visit, it still echoed as large but not as all encompassing. Now if we were to walk across that stage carrying all of our achievements with us, I know mine would have to include professions of dancer (not June Taylor quality) , writer, silk finisher, greenhouse overseer, medical caregiver, motivational speaker (cracking the whip), listener and information source. And the most rewarding, non-monetary job of life mate, mom and gramma.

Thanks guys for another flashback.

My Story: From the Mississippi Gulf to Aberdeen, South Dakota by Ferrell Greene

As my wife Linda and I approached Aberdeen from the west, arriving Friday afternoon just prior to our 50th reunion, I faced a flood of emotions that I didn’t really expect. Unlike most of you, I only lived in Aberdeen a couple of years, so I don’t have

Ferrell and Linda Greene

the history that most you have. Not only that, I was a foreigner!  To Y’all, I was just a tall skinny guy from the Gulf Coast of Mississippi, with a somewhat different accent. My father was a minister and had been assigned to a small church there in Aberdeen to build a new church. We moved there a week after school had started in our junior year so I wasn’t able to get involved in much of anything, like the chorus and so on. Probably the main reason that I got to know many of the kids there was because of that “funny” accent. I thought my name was “say something for me”. I soon learned that the girls, in particular, thought that the accent was cute, but the infatuation ended there, much to my chagrin. However, I was able to make several new friends over the weeks and began to make what is now, priceless memories at a neat little town. 

Now that the history lesson is over, I’ll try to stick to the memories. As we drove down the beautiful old streets of Aberdeen, I was able to go to my family's first little house. It seemed just like yesterday, as we all now know that the years have flown by. As we rode around town, so many things were still untouched appearance wise, but some were now empty shells of that which was vibrant back in our day. 

Main Street Aberdeen 1960's

 
Main street is no longer a busy thoroughfare lined with stores that served people within a hundred-mile radius of Aberdeen, but what memories suddenly swept over me as I remembered that street. The biggest thing to do on a Friday or Saturday night was to get a bunch of our friends and “Drag Main Street" from one hamburger stand to the other.

Main St & 8th Ave NE

Rain, snow, sleet, ice and so on, none of that stopped us. It was car loads of guys and gals dragging main and just being teenagers in general. Now I think to myself, why in the world you want to drive up and down main street with a car of guys week after week? It dawned on me, fifty years later, that none of you girls wanted to go out with any of us.


Now to the reunion itself. Like all of you, I had seen the list of those who were attending.

Eaglean Follies: Rochelle, Rick, Ferrell

I looked forward with anticipation visiting those on the list while also hoping that maybe some of my friends would maybe still make it. As I’m sure is the case with most of Y’all, we knew a lot of classmates but some in particular you had a special relationship with. The two that really made my trip worthwhile were were Rick and Rochelle Albrecht.  Rochelle was also a preacher's kid and had not grown up in Aberdeen. The three of us performing at the Eaglean Follies remains an important memory for me. Although we had not seen each other in over fifty years, it was and is a special bond.

As we milled around and talked to each other, it’s amazing how many wonderful memories came flooding over me. I can say without equivocation, looking back, that those two years that I attended Central were the most fun years of my life. Particularly the summer between our junior and senior year and the senior year itself. Being in need of bit of finances to put gas in daddy’s car to drag main, I needed a job. My first job was cranking out cake donuts and glazed donuts at Burckhard's North Side Bakery at 117 North Main Street.
  

Somehow or another I wound up out in western North Dakota for the last month before school started, driving a tractor, a swathing machine and combine! Knowing absolutely nothing about any of those, I got a crash course in operating each. Never been on a tractor since!

A Cappella: All-State Chorus 1965-66

Seeing so many of our classmates at the reunion brought back to me such wonderful memories of our senior year. I figured the best way to get to know people was to get involved in as many activities as I could and boy did I. The A Cappella Choir is where most of my memories stemmed from. Being in that lead to the all-state chorus with many of you.

"Wonderful Town" with Evenson Sisters

It also led to participating in the musical Wonderful Town and the Eaglean Follies with Rick and Rochelle. Since I wasn’t from Aberdeen, these activities and getting to know so many of you would have to be some of my most precious memories.

On the Saturday morning of our reunion, some of us took the tour of old Central, the choir room, the theater and the arena with all those steps we used to have to run! Again, what a flood of emotions because nothing has changed in those spaces in the 50 years since we left. For a few fleeting minutes, it was like we were still there, singing, performing and trying to survive Physical Ed class! To thank of the fun that we had in Mr. Smith’s history class.

Dave Smith: American History

I never forgot what he told us about our country. “A pure democracy within itself will destroy itself”. A foreshadow of what has now begun to happen. As some have written already, can you imagine Mr. Ellis in this day and time! Holy Cow, that would be worth the price of admission. Saturday evening just capped off a weekend, like our lives, that flew by. Walking around sharing many of our special experiences brought back to me such wonderful innocent times. I don’t know about you, but I didn’t want to let go as it was a feeble attempt to turn back time. To those of you whom I was blessed to share time with those two years, I would use the song that Bob Hope used to sing as his theme song. “Thanks for the memories”. 

Central High School 1966

Sunday morning, Linda and I had to get up and leave early for the long drive back to New Orleans, but on the way out, we drove by Central one more time. Took a couple of pictures and headed south. It was bitter sweet for me as I found myself day dreaming about what it would have been like to go back to do it all over again. We all left Central 50 years ago with a spring in our step and joy in our hearts that it was over and everything lay ahead of us. With a heavy heart, I realized that the real joy was that special time that we shared together as the class of “66.


To all you guys and gals who have worked so diligently to host the reunion and now the blogs that will keep us connected, a very special thanks.

M&H: The Gas Station Meeting Place Almost As Popular As Scotty's Drive-In

By Richard D’Amico

We often romanticize driving up to a “service station” in the 1960’s and having that special attendant come out to take care of us.

At that time, you could not pump your own gas (why would you want to?), so it was taken care of for you. In addition, the attendant would check your tire pressure, oil and fluid levels as well as clean your windows. And there was a mechanic on duty in two service bays. Because the price of gas in 1966 was about 30 cents per gallon, this level of service was very important to keep customers coming back. 

Service station slogans at the time were: “Trust your car to the man who wears the star” (Texaco) or “Put a tiger in your tank” (Esso). 

If it’s hard to believe that gas was so cheap, remember that in 1966, a bottle of Coke was 10 cents and the average family earned around $6,900 a year.

For our Arizona classmates, a 1966 Christmas dinner at The Flamingo Prime Rib Room, Tucson cost $2.25 for Roast Oregon Tom Turkey, Sage Dressing, Giblet Gravy, Fresh Cranberry Sauce, Christmas Salad or Chicken Gumbo Soup, Sweet Potatoes Soufflé, Whipped Potatoes, Brandy Sauce, Black Bottom Rum Pie, Hot Apple Pie with Melted Cheese, Coffee, Tea, or Milk.

But around the mid-1960s service stations were being replaced by gas stations, particularly among the price-conscious young. At these new stations, gas was cheaper, but there were no service bays or mechanics and you didn’t always get the “service” included. You sometimes pumped your own gas, and if you wanted your oil checked or windshield washed, you had to ask or you did it yourself.

M&H Gas, at Sixth Avenue and South Second Street, was a part of a transition between the old “service stations” and the no-service stations we all patronize today.

I worked at M&H for one year during high school. The pay was $1.60 per hour and we worked no matter what the weather. 

Saturday nights were especially busy at the station, because of all the young people “dragging” Main Street with their cars. At some point they would pull into M&S for the cheap gas. 

There would often be a funny moment where everyone in the car would argue about how much change they could put in for gas and then they asked for 50 cents or more and expected all the service.

When the girls pulled in to the station it was often like the scene in the circus where everyone piles out of the car and rushes to use the bathroom.  It never failed that one of them in a mini skirt would ask if they could get just a little more gas than they paid for since they were a little short of money. (Ladies, you know who you are.)

  

As the evening progressed, the same cars would come back in with different people in them and ask for a few cents more in gas. The guys usually did not care about getting the windows of the cars washed but the girls had a lot of fun pointing out “You missed a spot here.”

One of the most important reasons that kids came to M&H was that no one really checked out their fake IDs.  A lot of cigarettes and 6 packs of beer were sold to classmates who “looked old enough.” Many IDs from older brothers or sisters made the rounds. 

I don’t remember any abusive comments or problems with the high schoolers I sold gas to.

These were special times for us. Now we all pump our own gas and use a credit card at the pump so there is no need for human contact.

To All Our CHS Class of '66 “Golden” Anniversary Celebrants

Rick Albrecht 1966

Rochelle Brack Albrecht 1966

By Rick Albrecht and Rochelle (Brack) Albrecht

When Carole Tonigan called to see if we would be interested in writing a short note about our time at the reunion, we said yes. Trust us when we say, when Carole calls, you just have to say yes. 

Plus, she’s practically our neighbor, her living in Tucson and us in Albuquerque. We couldn’t let her down. And thanks to Terry Rawstern, who will be the guy to get this to you. 

Our computer is so old, the internet is rejecting most of our attempted visit locations now because Microsoft no longer supports it. We think Moby Dick was a minnow when we bought our computer. 

Neither of us have been around our classmates much since leaving Aberdeen, and we’ve only attended two reunions. 

Like many of you, life happens and we just didn't have the opportunity or we had to work to pay the bills. However, both times we were able to go — our 35^th in Scottsdale and this year at our 50^th in Aberdeen—  we did have fun seeing everyone who did attend.

Rochelle with Rick in Navy Uniform

One of the neatest parts about our 50^th was seeing how good everyone looked (for 50 additional years tacked on) and how many have stayed in Aberdeen and helped it grow as a community. We especially liked our visit to old Central and rekindling friendships, which we hope will stay with us. 

We both really appreciated how the reunion committee remembered all our classmates no longer with us; additionally the honoring of all who served in the U.S. Armed Forces. Rick was one of those depicted. 

Overall, the Navy was a great career and as a side note here, it reminded us many times how small our world really is. In 1980 while serving in Great Britain, and on an official visit to Navy Headquarters London, Rick ran into Karla Sukut. When the elevator door opened up, there was Karla. She worked there too. 

What a small world!  It took until our 50^th to cross paths again.  She got “Lucky” since then. Her husband, Richard "Lucky" Cook, also happens to be an Army Veteran with lots of experiences similar to most who served during the Vietnam years. There was also talk of Karla and Lucky possibly moving to Tucson, so the neighborhood may be growing, Carole.
 
Seeing Ferrell Greene and meeting his bride, Linda, was a real special highlight for us. Ferrell if you recall, was part of our trio during the 1966 Eaglean Follies. We really enjoyed singing all the folk songs popular in our day. 

Rochelle, Rick and Ferrell Greene 1966

It is sad how we can lose contact with friends over the years, but reunions like this can bridge the gap. Hopefully we will have more of these opportunities to reconnect in the future. We're not getting any younger. Great memories!

Another fantastic time was seeing our dear friends and classmate Kathleen (Krueger) and her husband, Terry Brooks, again. They travel from Chamberlain, SD, to Phoenix, AZ, area most winters, and we see them when they pass through Albuquerque. Our Southwestern neighborhood grows larger in the winter.

We appreciated the opportunity to spend time with them and together we visited the Vietnam Memorial at Anderson Park. Terry is also a Vietnam Vet. If you have not had the chance to see this superbly designed memorial, please do so at your first opportunity. It meant a lot to Rick because of Vern Fried who is noted on this memorial. He was one of Rick’s closer neighborhood friends and the brother of our now deceased classmate Dennis Fried. 

Rick at 50th CHS Reunion

Rochelle at 50th CHS Reunion

Amazingly we were only going to write a couple of paragraphs, so we’ll close by saying we’re sorry for not being able to mention every visit. We do have a wonderful new set of memories and hope that if you are reading this and did not make our 50^th, you will take an opportunity to attend a future class reunion.  It is well worth it. 

A special THANKS to all those who made this golden class reunion happen!

Since many CHS students have gone to some of the same Aberdeen schools growing up, we’ve attached some of Rick’s found class photos.  Known names were added and we hope you can fill in the blanks. 

If you’re ever planning on passing through Albuquerque, send us a note at ralbrecht6480@comcast.net and let’s try to get together. 

Take care until we meet again! 

PONDERING..... by Pam Parker Schneck

Many of us are busy and perhaps do not take much time to really look around....and enjoy the scenery. We get caught up in our busy daily lives. Often we forget the most important things of all....the people around us! It is easy to take many things for granted....until it is too late. How many of us save a moment to enjoy the sunrise and sunset? Can we take a few minutes to give thanks for the abundance of beauty in our everyday lives? At the 50th Reunion, reconnecting with all of my friends and classmates reminds me how precious these friendships still are to me. 

I am lucky; I live on our 'Funny Farm' in the country. Almost daily, I find animals that tickle my heart. Their antics make me laugh. My life is often quiet but very full. I hope you also find the time you need to remember the best and let go of the rest....because we have this one great chance to love and laugh....and we should not throw it away! Here's to you and yours....may you be surrounded by wondrous surprises this day!! ;)

Pam Parker Schneck

Rory King: Thanks for the Memories

By Rory King

For the last few weeks, I have been struggling to find the words to express what our 50th class reunion meant to me. I'll have to be honest. I had some reservations in the weeks leading up to it. Reunions always do that to me. They prompt the perennial self-examination. What have I done with my life? What have I achieved? Will I have left the world a better place? Have I loved to the fullest? 

Tough questions, these!

But do you want to know something?  None of that mattered. Because, for a couple of days, I was back in high school. I was back among people who cared about me, and about whom I cared. I was among people who valued me for who I am — not for what I've accomplished — or how much money I have made—or what I could do for them. 

It brought me back to those sweet, beautiful, innocent days of high school.  Of warm, beautiful girls, who loved life and laughed easily. Of strong, wonderful guys, loyal friends, who had your back. Of dedicated teachers who, it seemed, really cared about forming us, as well as teaching us. Of discovering the lifelong adventure of learning from the likes of Dave Smith, Kathy Schreiber, Clete Noecker, Al Bull, Carl Daubert, and Carol Pratt.

Of choking down warm Hamms beer at the haystack. Of listening to, and watching, the New Group's version of "Harlem Shuffle." Of dreaming to the music of the Everly Brothers, Roy Orbison, and the Beatles, singing of young, magical love, on the car radio. Of the pungent smell of the locker rooms. Of the excitement of capturing the emotions of a Tennessee Williams character on a bright stage in a darkened theatre. Of the heady experience of making the basketball team my senior year. Of trying to see the movie through the fogged-over windshield as the couple with whom we doubled-dated (who shall remain forever nameless) for the prom sunk out of sight in the backseat of my Desoto at the Drive-in. Of so many other wonderful people and wonderful times.  

I know that memory can be very selective — that it tends to filter out the day-to-day conflicts, anxieties, animosities and adversities. But I like the selection!  And I really don’t want to remember the anxieties and conflicts. And I really do think that that those days, and those people, and that time in our lives, were very, very special.

So, to the Class of '66: Thanks for the memories! They will warm my heart forever!