Emily (Phoebe) McNeill:
CLASS OF 1964
Northfield High SchoolClass of 1964
Northfield, MN
Emily (Phoebe)'s Story
2016-03-27
I am wishing you all a Happy Easter today, no matter by what name you call your God, or if you don't call on God at all.
Many years ago, probably more than 20, my husband and I lived in an apartment downtown St Paul. Our windows overlooked a run-down parking lot at the back door of seedy-looking apartments.
It was Easter Sunday. We had been to Mass, perhaps even to the Vigil, Good Friday and Holy Thursday services, too. We were still nicely-dressed, waiting to be picked up to go to dinner with his siblings. I thought we were nicely-dressed to go out for a good Easter dinner.
Then I looked out my window and watched a raggedly-dressed man gleaning in the dumpster. He found something and sat right down to eat it.
Wow! Here I was anticipating a delicious and filling meal with dessert, and this manâs Easter Dinner consisted of whatever he had found in the garbage.
Jesus died for meâ¦but he also died for this man. I was celebrating this gracious Gift with many earthly pleasures, but maybe this man didnât know it was Easter and was just trying to survive. I had to take time and give thanks for my abundance, and pray for this poor soul to find a way, not only to live, but to partake of the Living Bread offered to us all.
I now also remember a 12-year-old nephew who died in a house fire on Easter Sunday, 25 years ago. I remember his sister giving birth to a beautiful girl on Easter Sunday of the next year. I think of and remember brothers who died during the Easter season. And I remember Momâs young brother that I only knew from her memories, that died under the wheels of a drunk driver on Good Friday in a long-past year.
Easter began with deathâ¦and ended with life. That is our Gift to contemplate on this day.
Happy Easter to all!
Love from Phoebe, Emily, Sis, Phoebs, Phobs, or whatever name you call me!
Life
(Emily) Phoebe McNeill
Graduated 6-4-64 from Northfield High School. Go Raiders! (Do you know the school no longer uses "Storm King" for school song?)
Married Patrick McNeill 03-05-85; live in St Paul near the Cathedral of St Paul.
I love living in St Paul, as it is just like a small town, only bigger!
Attention NHSers: Jim Koehler died January 1, 2014
Note on Fifty Year Class Reunion:
September 2, 1958, was my entry into âhigh school.â As a fat little kid from a small school, I was entering the 7th grade in the âbigâ school of Northfield. The next 6 years werenât terrible, but neither were they âthe best time of my life.â God, communal showers in phy-ed were excruciating. (For most of us, I believe!) No one from my Dund...Expand for more
as class was in any of my classes in that first yearâ¦and very seldom after that. I was on my own!
Everything seemed to be a matter of âkeeping upâ not education-wise, but life-style. Remember the fad of 7 crinoline slips under big circle skirts? Or wearing a cardigan sweater with the buttons up the back? (An invitation to some mischievous boy to either unbutton some of themâ¦or pretend to!)
The days rolled by, but I felt alone most of the time. Even in situations where there might be companionship, I seemed to be on the edges looking on. Band should have been a social experience, but aside from the practices, concerts and ball games, I felt separate. On the day of one of the band picnics, I hid my jar of pickles in the bushesâ¦and waited for the time for Mom to pick me up. I had no one to âgo along with.â
It wasnât a constant series of black days, though. I had casual friends I talked with before and after classes. Had crushes (Remember the âWinter Semi-formalâ which was girl-ask-boy?...Embarrassing!) and felt a comradery there that may have been superficial, but was welcome.
I seldom spoke up in class, but mostly âpaid attention.â Speech class with Betty Buss was a big help for me to learn how to speak out. But the real time I was able to let loose, was when Jim Koehler challenged the âAâ students to shut upâ¦to make the rest of us speak up! Well, that just made me madâ¦but worked!
Remember the horrible day in 1963 when Mr Zuelke walked into Mr Giebelâs room where some of us were yakking before class startedâ¦and said, âThe President has been shot!â Stunned, we sat through the next hour listening to the horrible news from Dallas over the radio through the intercom. Stunned we stumbled to the next class, Mr Koehlerâs English where we began our new book, âAn American Tragedyâ by Theodore Dreisser.
Even though I never considered high school to be âfun,â I absorbed some of the traditions and felt like they could have been mine: football mums, homecoming queens (Mary Jane was one of the prettiest, in my opinion,) proms, homecoming bonfires. One year the homecoming bonfire had competition as one of the grain elevators in Northfield burned that night.
All this is a round-about way to say, high school was a transition period in all of our livesâ¦and we each have different memories of that time. Fifty years have passed since we left there, changed in ways we could not have imagined. It would be fun to walk the old building and just let the past pour over me, but not possible at this time.
Congrats to us! We made it!
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