Jim Schnieder:
CLASS OF 1961
David Starr Jordan High SchoolClass of 1961
Long beach, CA
Jim's Story
February 7, 2024. Well, If you are reading this, we made it to be octogenarians. By now we have accumulated enough scars and triumphs to consider ourselves wise - however, "The fool thinks himself wise. The wise thinks himself a fool." As our short term memory fades (what did you have for breakfast?), memories of our childhood reverberate. Products of The Depression, my parents built and juggled six businesses, were active in the Lions, Elks, Moose, Queen Mary Committee, March of Dimes, WWII U.S Bond drive, PTA, Cub Scouts, Boy Scouts, and California Tavern Owners Association. My father was also an avid sport fisherman. Behind every ambitious man is a talented and hard working wife who was by his side thick and thin until he passed at the young age of 53. They were so occupied with their supercharged missions that I became a latchkey kid - free to do whatever, but tempered by The Ten Commandments, The Golden Rule, a rigid work ethic, Jewish humor from my mother, the admonition to never break the law, use drugs or get caught drinking which would threaten their liquor licenses, and an admiration for their commitment to public service. Now is a time to reflect on your family roots if you are up to the grief you too may have caused them. If I had a life do-over, first on my list would be to worship my parents for their sacrifice and making the world a better place. Next I would have used my potential to be the best student I could be. Next, I would have led my classmates into more enlightened attitudes toward the oppressed at Jordan and beyond. Note that when the land was granted to Long Beach for Houghton Park and Jordan, it forbade admission of blacks (then negroes) to Jordan High. How many black classmates do your remember? They were shuffled off to Poly. I would have befriended more bookish students and the disabled who had so much to offer and were often sidelined. For those of you who were close to me, you remember how some parents denied their children my association (smart parents). This embarrassment to my mother was finally vindicated for her by our invitation by the Stanford President to his home on graduation day. But honestly, that cannot make up for the grief I caused her and my father, and offers shallow relief to me now. This is a time in our lives to take stock of our early formative days. Free of the confusing needs of youth, we may now value and savor each day as a gift. This may be more information than you signed up for. It is offered in the hope my friends and shouldabeen friends will honestly reflect on their lives and move forward with renewed joy as we navigate the challenges of being well into our third act.
December 30, 2021. It has been 60 years since our class graduated Jordan. On graduation day I had been in the Air Force for two years and getting ready to marry Cindy. Jordan issued me my diploma just before our 10th Reunion Party when it received my Stanford graduation transcript and diploma copy. The Jordan diploma cover letter included: "The wheels of the gods grind slowly." Perhaps missing two years at Jordan made the friends and acquaintances in the formative years at Jane Addams, Lindbergh, and sophomore year at Jordan more special. For some, those days "ran away like a child at play." For me they remain as fond memories. They captured the essence of who we are, untouched by life's later influences. As our days become more precious, we might look back on our childhood view of old people as having been born that way - when 40 was ancient. We could not imagine ourselves in those configurations. Well, here we are on the circle of life. Lois R. gives us all a life lesson in the way she greets life. She has always had a smile and composure that tells us something wonderful will happen today and tomorrow. We have read that it is not what happens to us that counts as much as how we deal with it. Infirmities are what they are. It is the angst that naturally accompanies them that erodes our joy. We have also read "Cowards die a thousand deaths. The brave die but once." If only I could master this truism, but I try to, knowing that finding joy each day is within all of our grasps. My mother Evelyn responded to "How are you Mom?" with "I have many more good days than bad."
How fortunate we are to live to the day when by virtue of our growing knowledge of the universe(s) we may see ourselves as space travelers on this tiny and vulnerable blue speck. As we grow along the way to our 65th graduation anniversary, let us live each day as the one we will be remembered by. Peace and Joy.
~<O>~
July 15, 2020. A friend recently made Cindy and I a beautifully handcrafted frame inscribed: "Boredom is a matter of choice, not circumstance." What a powerful message for us as we now spend so much time at home. We keep busy, her with her interior jungle, and me with our yards, guest columns (Reno Gazette Journal see muckrack dot .com / jim-schnieder / articles ), and Rotary International. As one more way to stay engaged, the following "covid-19 To Do List" was made:
1. Stay alive by following expert medical advice.
2. Be thankful for my cup running over in comparison to the billions of people living in poverty, squalor, ignorance, oppression, disease, crime and without the basic necessities of clean water, sufficient nutrition and sanitary sewage disposal around the world.
3. Start my post-pandemic bucket list.
4. Expand my list of well-run charities.
5. Renew my subscription to KNPB (G-d and KNPB, save us from ads, reality and talent shows).
6. Displace a portion of my virtual world with the natural world.
7. Do my small part to use America's resources to serve the betterment of our country and planet.
8. Let my friends and family know how much I treasure them.
9. React less, and listen and think more.
10. Become more of the person that my wife, parents and dog believe me to be.
This might give you some ideas for a list that would fit your life.
My mind often wanders back to you and North Long Beach, and am struck by how we have grown into the more mindful people we have become. So many fond memories, but also so many regrets as a wisecracking and rebellious student. The saving grace, for me at least, is that I am no longer that confused child, have had purpose in my adult life, and the love of my life for 60 years.
I read your stories with interest. It is good to see you are living well.
Warm regards,
Jim
~<O>~
Now that we're 75, it’s a good time to reflect and extend our horizon. We made it here somehow; some by healthy living, some by propitious genetics, some by loving care from others, and some by blind luck. More than likely, a combination of these. Now it’s time to take stock of where we’ve been, and to decide where we go from here.
As we look back, we have a rich palette from which to paint our history. We all have regrets, but we can choose to avoid coulda, woulda, shoulda. Rather, let’s seek to ennoble our time here with memories of our relationships and good works that will leave our world a better place than we found it.
As I look back on the time we shared in North Long Beach, some as model students and a few others like me who trudged along to another drum beat, I remember Don B. who tried to turn me around with his studious example and became a model citizen; Judy B. - may she rest in peace knowing she lit up the lives she touched with her style, smile, goodwill and sense of humor; Linda A. who exemplifies refinement and g...Expand for more
ood humor; Inez L. who has a smile for everyone; Fred P. who makes scientific curiosity fun; Lois R. who lives in an enviable aura of joy; Tom B. who monetized his savvy in the housing industry; Vicki A. who makes us feel happy in her presence; Linda W. who is her own person who followed her dreams in The Big Apple; Toni B. who makes us smile with her good heart and quick wit; Ben V. who’s cooler than George Clooney; Bonnie R. who knows how to gather resources and make positive things happen; Shirley E. who was wise and charming beyond her years; Sharon H. whose mother’s advice helped get me on track years after received and whose appetite for adventure built her own Colorado Bonanza-class log cabin, sailed around the world in her yacht and built her own airplane; Dennis F. who cares and gives to others; Barbara B. who raises our spirits with her buoyant smile; Saundra V. who makes everyone feel special by inclusion; Paul L. who is always the gentleman; David J. who is a can-do visionary always ahead of the crowd and industry trends; Rob M. whose contributions to self-driving car technology will save lives, and whose charm raises the bar; Jeff H. whose maturity and congeniality elevated him in our memory; Larry P. who did it his way and lives to tell the story; Linda F. whose zest for life lives on; Dennis C. whose sense of humor and even keel is exemplary; Marilyn W. whose sense of propriety and goodwill made her a Jordan touchstone; Don C. who was the boy next door whom we wish was our son; Frank Z. - blessings on him - who was a solid friend; Muriel C. who was a standard for excellence; Gerri VS whose inner and outward beauty and sense of duty inspired; Pam F. whose smile and inner glow inspires positivity; Richard V. whose intelligence and good nature continue to inspire; Danny F. whose poise elevated him to Safeway VP; those whom I disappointed with a teenage brain operating at 21.7% of capacity; Miss Sivart Yazedjian who had to go through who knows what to immigrate from Afghanistan to teach ungrateful children at Jordan High School; Mr. Robert Kall who saw the best in us all; and so many others who helped shape our lives.
Our lives since then have been filled with lots of hard work and sacrifice, with high points we’ve nurtured over time into raging victories, with some even becoming legends in our own minds - turning crumbs into cake. No harm. It’s healthy to accentuate the positive.
For us to move forward, it would help to move our horizon forward, otherwise we’ll be self-fulfilling a shorter one. Face it, a hundred years from now, what we do today is likely not to endure except perhaps as heirs or derivative works. Our meaning lies in an afterlife for those fortunate enough to be blessed with faith. For them and the rest of us, self improvement, finding meaning in being the best we can be with the humble tools we have, and improving the human condition will keep us vibrant, engaged and excited to show up at roll call.
I’ll be seeing you in my dreams at Jordan; The YMCA; Romeo's Delicatessen; Isom's (Mary)Bakery; Shady Acres; Crest; Towne and Atlantic Theaters; The Pike and beach; and wishing you the best until this is updated when we’re 85 and we have by then done our part to keep this tiny spec of a vulnerable blue ball spinning in the right direction. Go Panthers!
Google RGJ Jim Schnieder (Reno Gazette Journal) for Guest Column perspectives.
~<O>~
Life in the 1950's was a magical time for us. Social, technology, medical and entertainment revolutions were juxtaposed on our youth in a paradise of subtropical climate and post-war economic boom. The beach; Pike; Shady Acres; racing stable horses along the LA River; the Lion's Club fairs in Houghton Park ("Hail to Queen Vicki"); the Atlantic and Town Theaters; the Lindbergh HiLo, McDonald's ("300,000 Sold"); the day it snowed; Camp High Hill; Johnny Otis and Joe Yokum at the Make Believe Ballroom; the Robins and Squires at the YMCA; the Diplomats, the Call Dance Studio Dons and Debs; Cub Scout Pack 42 and Boy Scout Troop 113; "Earth Angel", "Smoke Gets In Your Eyes" and "One Eyed Purple People Eater"; the cool new cars with more chrome than the Kennedy's had teeth; and let's not forget Romeo's subs. A balanced treatment of the period would also include smog so bad our lungs hurt in Phys. Ed.; Mr. Severn's and Bartlett's hole filled paddles; mind numbing detention; the artery clogging popcorn, hot dogs and Oreo's sold at the Student Snack Shops; and walking to school in the rain (or as you may have told your children, "uphill, both ways").
That time will always live in our minds and hearts. Operationally, it exists: the people, places and things. For each of us they are real. It exists as a parallel universe, despite what otherwise might be the sobering affects of the mirror, scale, miles, passage of time, and reunions.
My tenure at Jordan was short, having been appropriately expelled in the first month of our junior year (1959) for years of truancy, a D average and general rebellion. It's a wonder the School District was so charitable and patient. After testing and processing, the Air Force inducted me one week following my 17th birthday. Basic training and distance from my prior distractions flipped a switch that enabled me to excel in a one year electronics training program (whoda thunk?). This and a GED prepped me for American River College and Stanford University where I earned my BA in Psychology. In the weeks leading up to our 10th Jordan Reunion, I asked Jack Dubois for a Jordan Diploma. Upon receiving my Stanford transcript, he sent me one with a note that read in part "The wheels of the Gods grind slowly."
Corporate high tech purchasing management was my chosen field. While I failed my academic potential at Addams, Lindbergh and Jordan, classmates taught me how to navigate socially. This became a signal asset in business. Purchasing management is of course about getting stuff at the right price, the right quality, and at the right time, but it's also about cultivating people.
Having been afflicted with a passion for creating sculpture at Stanford, I retired in 2001 and built a private 20 acre sculpture park near the Livermore Radiation Laboratory and Wente Vineyards (blueoakhill dot com). My work is not sold, but rather shown there as permanent installations, other high profile public venues, and our home (formerly Blackhawk, and now Spanish Springs, Nevada). We still have our park which is now collecting weeds and entertaining the wildlife. Last year we acquired a 40 acre parcel in Palomino Valley up the road from our home. We picnic there and have started some minor improvements (among the wild horses) toward creating a little getaway, sans the sculpture.
"Where's Your North? 52 family dinner discussions" is a book I wrote that provides families a means of broaching critical life subjects. It was written to stimulate formative thought and family communication. Writing it helped me better understand and refine the points of my compass. That is its own reward.
Cindy, my inspiration, and I will celebrate our 50th anniversary in 2012. She is a saint for turning me around, keeping my exuberance in check, and making each day one of sunshine and promise. As the man of the house, I have three strict rules: 1. She is always right, 2. We do things her way. And, 3. She's the Queen.
So many fond memories of, and warm wishes for my classmates. A special acknowledgement and thank you to Bonnie for her 50 years of work to keep us connected.
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