Yes, you can still call me Winkie, my family and close friends do. Right after Paly I moved to Oakland and had some adventures, but managed to stay alive and out of jail. No kidding. I landed in Hayward in the mid-seventies and, except for a ten year stint in a park residence atop Mission Peak above Mission San Jose, I've been there ever since. I got a BA in art, but luckily ended up working for 35 years as a park ranger, wildland firefighter (first woman in dept.), eventually a supervisor and open space manager. I've had the usual experiences, health, sickness, travel, marriage, divorce, kids, friendships made and lost, etc., but the lifelong common thread for me has been closeness to nature and messing with clay. Life is good!

My best friends were in Class of 68, and one went to Gunn, so my best stories are a little disconnected from this class. I remember helping my older sister put on the first psychedelic light show at a Paly dance. I had a lot of fun in PE with Barbara Selfridge and Janice Strubbe and general silliness with Cellitti. I remember the student strike fondly, Mrs. Gustavson with her bullhorn, "Clear the area!." I remember an english teacher (can't recall his name) that one morning made us sit in a circle outside and earnestly asked us to teach him. I think he must have dropped acid the night before. I remember Chuck Norman's old house on Ramona St. We would sit on the porch and eat fried bologna sandwiches.

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