Gary Holcomb:  

CLASS OF 1974
Antioch High SchoolClass of 1974
Antioch, CA

Gary's Story

Life Hello: Well, I'm not sure if it's really very intereting, but I'll give it a try. After high school I did a very short and painfully unsweet stint in the Army. At about 21 I found myself living in Berkeley and found it to be interesting and congenial enough to hold me for about the next twenty years or so. There I worked some, went to community college (a bit at DVC) some and after ten years or so finally was able to transfer to Cal where I did two years worth of units in four years, and got a BA in history. So, if taking fourteen years to get an undergraduate degree isn't a record, it might well be as close to one as any reasonable person would admit to. After completing my undergraduate studies, I seriously considered attempting an advanced degree. But the thought of an additional six years of study in an academic milieu where unerring performance carried out at machine-gun rate was a sine qua non, combined with an unexpected and rapidly crystalling desire to stake a financial claim in the world ultimately dissuaded. So, instead of getting a phud at Cal, I was able to secure a mid-level administrative position there, which I stayed in for the next seven years. During that time, I managed to save enough $ tindulge a lifelong dream: travel abroad. I admit it was a seemingly small dream, but for som...Expand for more
eone like me who was carrying all of the peculiar emotional baggage and the deeply embedded feelings of personal and social inferiority that are common to the lowest tier of the American working class, inter-continental travel had an appeal that transcended mere borders and timezones, it was a dream that held the promise of sloughing off completely and ultimately the last patches of the abused and corrupted skin of my youth. Or, something like that. Anyway, if by any chance someone might still be reading, I got as far as Europe where, by some fantastic and undeserved play of chance, I met a completely astonishing Dutch woman. We have a beautiful child, Katie, and live simply and very happily. We try not to hear even Bush's name. Anyway, that's it. Hope anyone who read this found it a least a little bit interesting. Gary Holcomb PS: Without the steadfast and true,true friendship of Mark Petersen, ("that's Petersen with an "e" "), I would literally not have survived until my eighteenth birthday. He gave a shit when I lived in a world of shit and when nobody else gave a damn. I hope he is very, very happy. And what a wonderful, world-class mother he had. PPS: Tell Mr Corey that he was a dirty old man. He will know what I mean, and laugh, I'm sure. He would be totally accepted here. No secrets necessary.
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