Susan Gratton:
CLASS OF 1978
Beech Grove High SchoolClass of 1978
Beech grove, IN
Baker High SchoolClass of 1978
Fairborn, OH
Central Junior High SchoolClass of 1974
Fairborn, OH
East Elementary SchoolClass of 1972
Fairborn, OH
Susan's Story
Life
My life bio? Golly gee whiz, what do I say? I was born in Madrid, Spain in June 1959, but I grew up in Fairborn, Ohio. Boy, do I miss Fairborn. I moved to Beech Grove with my family, well half my family, in May 1975. I attended BGHS for one month my freshman year, and continued until I graduated in 1978. Not that I treasure the time I spent there. I was bullied by alot of people; I was called names, and picked on. I never felt welcome in that school. How many times I wanted to quit, and didn't. I wonder sometimes what made me stay. But I did, and I still do. I haven't lived a storybook life--far from it. My work life started here: I worked at Burger Chef my junior year, then went to Long John Silvers from there. I lasted 4 years at Long John's, and survived two robberies during my employment. After I quit Long John's, I went to Taco Bell, but didn't stay there long, either. I was unhappy with the course of my life. I wanted something more. In 1979, I attempted suicide, but as you can see, I failed, but it really doesn't matter anymore. Pain is the mainstay of my life. Anyhoo---I ended up in Florida with my Dad(my parents were divorced in my youth)in 1983, and began working at Dunkin' Donuts, then ended up working at a Kmart as a cleaning lady. Wow! Still dissatisfied with my life, I decided to visit my local recruiter's office, and ended up in the delayed entry program for the US ARMY. I started basic training at Fort Jackson, SC, in 1984, followed by AIT at Fort Jackson, SC. My first and last duty station was in Nellingen, Germany. I PCS's from the ARMY in 1987. While in Germany, I met my now ex-husband, we were married in 1986, and divorced in 1995. I was living in Washington state at the time, and ended up in a homeless shelter during my divorce, as I was a stay at home mom. I lost custody of my only son, James. He is now allowed to visit me during the summer. I came back to Beech Grove in June of 1999, because I couldn't make it on my own in Washington state. I needed help. So, my mom offered to help. And I will be forever grateful for that help. Now, I am working at the best job I've ever had, and making a pretty decent wage.(I hope to retire from this job.) Better than anything the Army offered me. I'm still single after all this time, although I would like to find a man to share my life with agai...Expand for more
n. And I am currently working on a book(no, not an autobiography. How boring that would be, eh?). I've been writing since I was 14, and it's time to get published. I'm hoping to have the novel finished by this time next year, and hopefully a publisher will take me on. You never know--I might be on the big screen someday! If it's one thing I haven't forgotten how to do, it's dream, and dream big!
Norma Jean Higbie is my mother. She graduated from Shortridge in 1949. I just wanted to add her name to the list of her alma mater, so that others might know she's still around. She currently resides in Beech Grove, and still yearns for her old high school, and is happy to hear the news that it may one day reopen as a high school. Glory days!
School
I didn't really have any crushes on anyone to speak of--not in BGHS anyway. The teacher who inspired me most, I would have to say, is Mr. Gambrel, my English teacher. No, I would not chose to do High School again, unless I could change schools.
Military
I bet I was the only soldier in the US Army to see a Warewolf. Yes, it's true. It happened to me one night, as I was pulling perimeter duty, guarding the camp. I was with a partner, but she had walked away to check on a tent. I was alone. I was standing a few feet away from the "v" trunk of a tree, when I saw "it" approaching. At first I wasn't sure what "it" was. We had been trained to never let go of our weapons. I was holding my M16 at port arms, in front of me, when he approached. He walked right through the "v" of the tree, and right up to me! That's when I saw it was a warewolf! Before I could do anything, it reached down and grabbed my weapon. I held on for dear life, and though he tugged and pulled, I never let go of my weapon. I remember looking down at his hands. The cuffs of his sleeves were stretched back far enough, that I could see that his skin was black. "Drill Sgt. Butler, is that you?" I asked him, because my drill sgt was a black man. So I thought it might be him. As soon as I asked the question, he released his grip on my weapon, turned and walked away. He never said a word, but the next day in the mess tent, I discovered who the real "warewolf" was. It wasn't my drill sgt: it was another drill sgt--Drill Sgt. Brown, from another company! To this day, I have never forgotten that incident.
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