Larry Tawil:
CLASS OF 1971
Campbell High SchoolClass of 1971
Campbell, CA
Condie CollegeClass of 1973
San jose, CA
Campbell Middle SchoolClass of 1967
Campbell, CA
Hazelwood Elementary SchoolClass of 1965
Campbell, CA
Carson Elementary SchoolClass of 1963
San jose, CA
Larry's Story
Life
I MADE THE WALL STREET JOURNAL!!!
(check out Dec. 15, 2000, the 'A' section.)
Special message to entire class -- see Message Boards under Class of '71 reunion (Announcements), or under "Reunions" for all classes.
School
Biggest crush ??
...Ever since jr. high Jeri Burdick had always been the prettiest, hands down and wand UP, but she denies that she ever was. Beyond that she won't have a thing to do with me today. Imagine that.
...Lori Ryan always has a special place in my heart; she and I also went to the same church. We shared some good times.
...Lucie Mueller. Now there was someone I will always regret not getting to know. I have a memory of a very short, intense, curious pining for her I experienced during a Science class field trip, but alas, I was entirely too shy to do anything about it.
...Sue Lejko. Now there was a rare honey. She'd probably kill me for writing this though.
...Anyone recall a Lisa Coleman ? Hispanic, reserved, hauntingly beautiful.
...Becky Denny had unforgettable prize-winning legs (well they coulda been, anyway). She and I have since strunk up a new friendship.
...But the one single, all around greatest regret I have to this day is not taking a real chance on Cindy Mesquite. Aside from her killer body I think we two were potentially the most compatible.
Outside of our class there was a Miss Janie Wong (Rich Wong's sister), one year ahead -- incredibly becoming posture, clothes and figure, but every damn time we passed in the hallway she rolled her eyes at me. I never even said nothin' to her, ever! As it turned out we both went on the same school-sponsored trip to Europe, and she was actually nice to me once or twice.
Then there were a few other stinkers who gave my the slip, broke my oh-so-delicate confidence in them and traumatized the hell out of me. A curse on all of them.
That's all for now. With my luck no one will ever read this anyway. Let me know if ya do...
Military
This friend from folk dancing got me enthused over the Air National Guard, wherein she as a nurse was a captain.
Upon learning that all new recruits received their training in San Antonio, about which I just re...Expand for more
cently developed a fascination without ever having been there, I suddenly became wildly gung-ho over the idea of being a team member of MN Air Guard Medivac Flight 109 of the 133rd Tactical Airlift Wing; the prospect of becoming an "instant doctor" -- and possibly get a pre-nursing education -- didn't exactly slow me down, either.
Just one problem arose that I didn't think too much of until arriving at Boot Camp: I was 32 amidst a gaggle of mostly 17 to 21 year olds, and by far the oldest of the lot. It was just my bad luck that our training instructor (the Air Force equivalent of "drill instructor") was raw himself as this was his very first assigned Flight to train. Practically the first thing out of his mouth when he addressed his new charges was, "Who's this Lawrence -- TAY-wil? YOU'RE THIRTY-TWO???... and the hell didn't stop from then until the last week of it. He apparantly felt threatened that one of his batch of raw meat was actually older than he, so he didn't let me hear the end of that until, well -- until his superiors took him off the Flight for falling behind the training schedule and screwing up in general. First-timer, ya know.
But what I failed to appreciate quickly enough in the course of that first break-in level of training was the social dynamic of once again being in the midst of late- and post-adolesents, who were for most of them truly away from home for the first time, and under unprecedented stress. As some of these young fellows took the pecking-order hint from our novice leader Sergeant Walters, I soon became the brunt of ridicule and mimicked harassment. I never quite got over the sensation of being scapegoated, at least not before I eventually caved in five and a half months later, only two weeks before I would have completed all three levels of my formal training. I went out kicking and screaming (NOT literally), but the quality of my work suffered and I eventually was given an Honorable Discharge and quietly let go.
So much for the three years of junior R.O.T.C. at Campbell High, and the ridicule and social sidelining accompanying it. At least I came out of it with my two Airman First Class stripes...
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