| Shared By: Corinne (CoCo) Harden 76 | As we head into the winter holiday season, it has reminded me of some of the fun we had living in Spain at this time of year. I remember it could get very cold in Madrid, but a walk thru Retiro Park to see the leaves change and buying roasted chestnuts from the vendors there was alwayz worth braving the weather. I also loved wandering around Plaza Mayor and Puerto del Sol all lit up with Christmas lights, then browsing the Christmas market in the Plaza for another holiday highlight! Our family would buy each other one small fun gift there every year, that we'd save to exchange later in celebration of 3 King's Day (6 Jan). The holiday atmosphere there was so magical to me :)
Our first Christmas in Madrid, we attended Christmas Mass in the old Cathedral near the Prado Museum... not really understanding the words spoken, but enthralled listening to their boys' choir. It was like hearing real angels singing, echoing around the vaulted stone ceiling... very moving! Just wasn't the same in years after that at our little "Popcorn Cathrdral" in the ROAKs :)
Then, of course, New Year's Eve was alwayz such a blast too! A couple years, we went out tosca hopping, ending up at Puerto del Sol at midnight trying to stuff the 12 grapes down our throats with each stroke of the clock, then washing them down with a bottle of champagne. It was all so exciting, plus hugging and kissing everyone around me was lots of fun too! :)) One year, my sister and I were grounded for an entire month for missing our 12:30am new year's curfew... we finally tripped in (none too quietly either!) at about 2am! LOL!! It was definitely worth the punishment though!!!
And who can forget all the dances and parties we all had as well! Plus the awesome ski trips into the mountains for days of fun in the snow :)) I also enjoyed that time of year because my birthday fell right in the middle of the holidays. My first (& best) birthday party was my senior year, when I turned 17 (Dec75) WOW! That memory can still get me blushing even today! :))
We are all older now, with new holiday traditions with our own families, but i'll not soon forget those magical years in Spain we all share, and some of the best friends and memories from that time in our lives!!! Love You All! Happy Holidays Alwayz!! xox | | | Shared By: Frank Nelson-72 | | Great website you have Brett, thanks for all the hard work you've put into it. My strongest/fondest memories of those high school days were the bus trips we had to take to go to Rota or Zaragoza to play those schools in soccer or football. The trips were at least 10/12 hours long, we got no sleep, but boy did we play the boom boxes loud and in those days Santana's "Oye como va" and "Black Magic Woman" were our favorites and we played it constantly over and over again. Man those were good days, weren't they? | | | Shared By: Joe Marsh ('75) | | Around the early to mid 70s many of us often went downtown Madrid on Friday or Saturday to a discoteque called "Top Hat" or "Alice's" to dance, drink, etc. Major songs then were: Smoke on the Water, Taking Care of Business, We're an American Band, Saturday Night (by Elton John), Piano Man, etc. When the "early" session at the club was over (around 11:00 pm) and we had to leave, we usually headed to Plaza Mayor for more drinks, munchies (e.g., bocadillos de tortilla espanola), etc. Then off to find a taxi, or catch the metro / bus home before they quit running. Those were awesome days. | | | Shared By: Brett Zamora | Thanks to everyone who has shared so many great memories. It makes me smile everytime I come back here and read through them. It's nice to see repeat names too.
So... here's another one... how many of you remember Gummi Bears??? LOL! Uh huh... almost as crazy as the story about milk, isn't it? What was it that made those chewy candies so damn popular? Was it because they were from Germany?
Well I just remember that we couldn't buy them in Spain, but whenever somebody would bring some to school, it was always like... 'hey! let me have some!!!' Do you remember that? | | | Shared By: Shane Fleming 90 | | This is a small page for a specific memory. My BIGGEST memory is the one that is the best but the saddest. I left Spain after 4 years of spending a wonderful time in Europe. The morning before catching the plane to the states I returned for a last time to ROTC and spent time talking to the cadets one last time. When it was time for the class I was invited to sit in until it was time for me to leave. I declined as I wanted to just reminisce in the memories that I spent there. Before I left, I thanked the Sarge for the memories, and he asked me to step into the class. Although I was going to be late, I did anyway, and the class each took time to thank me for everything and wish me the absolute best. I will never forget Andy Perfecto's words: "Dont make the mistake and join the Army!" I was smart to take his advice. After that, they called the class to attention and present arms. I returned the salute, and wished well. It seemed like I couldnt say enough. I walked away. That morning I left crying and wishing to relive that time over and over. I loved it, and to say that I had one memory that I can remember, would be a flat out lie, but this is my fondest. | | | Shared By: Deana Snook Hammett 68 | | Ok, I have to add my 2 cents now. We landed at Torrejon in June of 1967 and my dad was there to meet us with our sponsor, Mr. Creekmore, and he took usto our apartment in Madrid in his big Caddilac! I kept falling asleep on the way. One day we were all coming back on the bus from Torrejon as we had gone to the commissary and there were 2 girls that started to talk to me and my sister, Nancy. Carol Bassett and Gayle Sheehan were telling us about the dances at the Oaks pool so we decided to go. Well, here we were "fresh" from the US and up on all the latest dances so we thought we would be mobbed for the "latest". Boy were we wrong! NOBODY asked us anything and we saw how theyn were dancing and were shocked as we didn't dance that way back in FL but before the night was over we were dancing like everybody else and we had a great time! We lived down the street from the football stadium on a street named Commadante Zorita. We lived next door to the Hinternhoff's. Steve had a good Halloween party that year and Criss Vincenti kept going downstairs to the bar and she got drunk and ended up spending the night at our place so her folks would not know that she was drunk! Those were such good times! | | | Shared By: Brett Zamora | Well after attending the great reunion in Sacramento, how could a few more memories not be shared. Sitting around chatting, laughing, and of course drinking, with my former classmates we got on the subject of... (drum roll please) MILK. LOL!!!
Now I know you can't think about that and not have a smile on your face... or maybe it's just a big 'blech!' kind of look. Yes folks, I know you could not have forgotten how wonderful the Spanish milk was. :)
But wait!! There's more... if you truly couldn't handle the Spanish milk, there was always the milk from the commissary. LOL!!!
Seriously... I had the good fortune that my dad used to have to fly to Germany periodically and I can remember him bringing back... (you guessed it)... MILK! I'm still not certain how or where he acquired that wonderful U.S. style milk, but it was a real treat whenever he would bring some home. To show my appreciation, for that wonderful treat, I would actually do some homework on my own.
So when you sit down at your next meal and you pour that nice tall glass of ice-cold milk. Be thankful! Smile... and remember what we used to have to drink. :) | | | Shared By: Misty Straight-McMullen | | I was reading the memories and the ski trip in 75 was mentioned. My biggest memory of that was the rolls they served in the morning. They were like rocks, old and stale. At first we refused to eat them and left them on our plates. Then realized (or thought) they kept serving the same rolls. After that we tore them to keep that from being possible! Steve Winkler, if you ever read this send me an e-mail and let me know how you are! mistym3d@aol.com. Would love to say hi! Checked the directory but you aren't in there. | | | Shared By: Anamaria Ragland | | Hello all: Wow! I couldnt believe when I found this site ... and all the wonderful memories that people have written. I too lived in Royal Oaks from about 70-74. My mother was spanish ... dad american ... and I had to translate for her all the time.
I graduated high school in the states class of 78. If I can remember ... I think we lived in unit 47. Time flies and the memories have faded a little. As soon as I have more to share ... will post something else.
If anybody remembers that wild night of hide and seek ... I tried to climb over a balcony ... and was hanging on until some men from the maintenance office or something like that came to rescue me. I used to sell my comic books ... babysat for this really nice girl ... about 5 or so years younger than me. Her dad was a teacher ... cant remember their names.
Let me know if any of this rings a bell. | | | Shared By: Georgie Kelley '74 | | Spain for me was home. We went to Spain in 1966, dad had left the Army and enlisted in the Air Force. I finished elementary school in Sevilla and started highschool there. We returned to "the world" in 1970, scared because of all the badness that was printed in the base paper The Stars and Stripes and transmitted on the AFRTS radio. We survived two years in the states at Altus AFB and then as "waiting wives (and children) in Edwards AFB. Then Dad got orders back home to Spain. Yeah!
We loaded up and crossed the United States as fast as we could to get to Charleston where we flew out to Madrid. Dad was assigned to Moron de la Frontera and since there was no HS there we had to go to Zaragoza for a year.
Dad got tranferred to Madrid and I graduated from High School there.
While in Madrid, we lived in base housing off base, we called it La Moraleja then. I was a guard at the pool, it was damn near in my back yard. Because I had more credits than I needed to graduate and there really wasn't any full time job for me at the base, I worked at the base hospital lab as a student in the cooperative student learning program, my instructor was Bob Olhava... I don't think I'll ever forget him.
One of my friends there met and later married an airman who worked at the post office, we chat once in a while.
I remember working in the commissary bagging groceries and hoping to get the express lane... little work and great tips.
I remember how we screwed up the bathrooms in La Cita with our modern art paint job... makes me chuckle today!
I remember AFJROTC and the rifle drills we used to do.
What I miss most of spain is the great foods, the great festivals and how safe I felt there.
Running of the Bulls in a village just up the road from Royal Oaks (la Moraleja), Churros with hot chocolate so thick it coated the pastry, fresh hot roasted chestnuts in the winter, skiing in Candanchu the Pyrenes, Sitges, Segovia, Granada, Feria de Sevilla, the corridas in la plaza de toros.
I remember having the Guardia Civil at the house courting the maid. Dances in the teen center. Learning to play racquet ball in Zaragoza, going to the tubes in Zaragoza, el rastro in Madrid, the flea market in Sevilla. Standing in crowds waiting to catch a glimpse of La Macrena as she was paraded to or from her parish during holy week. Going to Rota, first in a nearly 6 hours trip before the freeway was completed and then all too fast once it was done. I remember the questions from spanish friends during Nixon's struggle with his presidency, staying up or getting up early to hear about yet another space launch. Hearing of rioting in the streets in the US. I remember Spain as the place where I grew up and not wanting to come back to the states. I remember how strange the language usage was when I did come back to join the Navy after dropping out of college.
Someday, I hope, I will go back to Spain and see all the places I used to go to. I hope to go to Parque Maria Luisa, feed the pigeons in the spring and sit a the Bodegon Torre del Oro and have Huevos Ranchero like only they can make. Go to my old neighborhood in Heliopolis and smell the mixture of scents from foods cooking and orange trees and Arellanas blooming. Later walk through Barrio Santa Cruz and peek into some courtyards. I hope to go back to Plaza Mayor and do some tapa hopping. I sure miss having that short beer and bocadillo de calamares. Perhaps end by going to a Tabalo in the Gypsy Caves in Granada after spending a day touring the Ahlambra and Alcazar. Maybe someday we will get together and plan a trip back home.
| | | Shared By: Laura McDanels | | My memories of Spain were the best. Royal Oaks was home. I remember we lived next to a small forest and a park. My brother, friends and I would climb the trees and build tree forts. We would spend hours playing in those trees with the neighborhood kids. We would collect piles of acorns and have wars with them. I spent many of hours at the pools both on base and in Royal Oaks. I started my career on the swim team there in 1st grade. The youngest kid on the team. Everyday during the summer we would practice at the pool. I learned how to dive of the boards there. During the day we would meet the bus at the streek and it would take us to the base. My brother was my best friend during those days. We would sit on the bus and read Archie comics. I remember we would go to a market off base, contonente. Or something like that. It was the Meijer or Walmart of it's time. Field trips were not just the run of the mill type. We would go to a castle or somewhere fasinating. I think of all the places that my father was stationed, Madrid was bare none the best and the people were great as well. | | | Shared By: Lynn Daley | | We lived in Royal Oaks from '69 to '74 in unit 32A. I have tons of great memories.
We used to sneak into La Moraleja and ended up having tomato fights with the kids that lived there.
We would set fire to the 'cotton' from the trees and run along as the fire spread across the grass, jumping it like a wave on the beach.
We'd go down to the pool, pretend to sleep on our towels, but were really watching the teenagers make out.
My 4th grade teacher, Mr. Snyder, would throw whatever was in reach at a kid who was talking while he was reading to us - usually a Ray Bradbury book.
Playing tether-ball in the playground of ROaks Elementary.
My sister escaping school and running away from the 2nd grade teacher, Ms. Farias.
Thanksgiving celebration with Mr. Vejar and his wife on the hill near the school.
Cooking fried baloney sandwiches at Debbie Lucas' house. | | | Shared By: Bud Boswell '74 | | I can't believe that after 34years I'm reliving some of the fondest memories of my life in Europe.I was fortunate to get a phone call from Don Pierini this weekend and catching up with him was a riot.
Don, his brother, Bill and Larry Johnson were together recently and my name came up; they googled me and and we spent an hour on the phone Sunday.
I have yet to speak with Bill and Larry, but am looking forward to it!
Although I didn't graduate from THS, I had a heck of a fine first two years there.My father was reassigned to Weisbaden, W. Germany and I finshed high school there.
My fondest memories go back to the "mini bike gang" in Royal Oaks and the summers spent playing Little League Baseball. I can't tell you how many hours we spent on the trails around "the Oaks" and La Moreleja.
And the All-star trip to Germany, when after the last game all my teammates got back on the train to head back to Spain and my family picked me up to start the second half of high school in Germany.
If anyone out there would like to touch base, I can be found at chefbudb@earthlink.net. I look forward to hearing from you!
| | | Shared By: John G- | | I was back in the States by Jr. High so my memories are a bit faded and it looks like I'm much older than most here.
We lived in Morocco before Spain. I started second grade in 1956 in the "Generalissimo" building in downtown Madrid. Royal Oaks hadn't built yet, we lived in a high rise in Madrid. We moved into one the first homes in Royal Oaks but my folks hated it so we moved to Canillejas where quite a few families lived and it was much nicer.
I took guitar lessons at the teen center, even tho' I wasn't a teen and was allowed to take the trolley home. The fifties were different than now.
Eventually a new school was built outside of town and it had a grade school as well as older students. I'm not sure if that is the school you went to.
So.. Although I am not a THS Alumni it has been fun to stumble across this site.
Visit my blog http://onaperegrine.blogspot.com/ and drop me a line, but be careful you'll find "lefty" politics there.
| | | Shared By: Steve Winkler | | It brought back memories reading the post by Trina Solis. I learned to ski in Spain and went on the ski trip that she references, which was to Navacerrada (not far from Madrid) in 1975. The big drama on the trip was that some of the girls pasted a maxi-pad on the door to our room. (I'd never seen one before, so I had no idea what it was!) The trip sponsors were so determined in their interrogation of the group that you would have thought they had smeared our door with something radioactive. The next year, my 9th grade year, THS took a group to Formigal in the Pyrenees Mountains for a week. Accidentally, my roommate (Tim Sheehan) and I got blitzed our first night at the hotel because we split a bottle of wine at dinner. Two older sisters adopted me for the week -- Tim was a much better skier than I -- and I skied every day with them. What a week. You know, not all the Spanish people were friendly towards Americans, but I still love that country. | | | Shared By: Greg Riley, 1975 | | My first day in Spain. Our plan landed at Barajas Airport around "siesta". So naturally spanish commuters were traveling to home, lunch, etc. I remember seeing literally thousands of bicycle's, mopeds, motorized bicycles (with a motor on the front wheel) and motorcycles all traveling interupting freeway traffic. I was like "oh shucks" what the heck is this. Coming from southern California (Oxnard AFB CA) I had never seen anything like this on a freeway. As the commuters passed we continued on pass the end of the runway area of Barajas Airport. I asked my dad, what are those buildings at the end of the runway? He told me that it was where "the Gyspys" lived. I could not believe that people actually lived at the end of a runway of a international airport, and that they were real gyspys not unlike the movies. So within 20 minutes I had seen highway traffic stopped by bicycles etc, and Gyspys living at the end of a airport runway, what was next? My family and I were traveling to "Alcala de Henares" were our sponsor lived and who happend to be my godfather. When we got to Alcala I saw the bullring, and asked my dad did they really fight bulls in Spain. He said yes and that we would be attending some bullfights. Hummmmm, bicycles that dominate traffic, gyspys, bullfights, hmmmmm, whats next? We turned onto a side street not far from the bullring and I noticed the streets were cobble stone, and there was a donkey pulling a wagon. I freaked out Dad and Mom where in the hell are we? In medival times? This place is crazy. They assured me it was different but ok. So we finally get to our destination and I was standing out on the "terrata"(balcony). Listening to my new cassette of Marvin Gaye "Whats Going On", and I see "sheep" stoping traffic on the coble stone streets, that was it. I broke down and cried. I asked my parents where the hell had they brought us to live and could I go back to California. They calmed me down and told me that this would be the experience of my life and try not to let my first days experience keep me from enjoying the culture of the country. The next day I went swimming at the base pool. I was playing a diving game with my sister Janice, and I said to her, hey we know that boy over there. I dove in and swam over in the direction of the guy. We both said at the same time, "Hey your Lester's Friend", yes I had meet a friend of a friend from Oxnard AFB, his name is Terence Baker. His mom used to work at the Middle School. Terence and I are still in touch to this day. I was at his parents house visiting with them on them last Sunday. The bonds and friendships that I developed in Spain are my most treasured and enduring. More to come.........Greg Riley | | | Shared By: Scott Greeson | | So many memories its hard to think of just one. I know this that the friends I made there were family. I enjoyed everything there was about Spain. I loved the nightlife. We had a few places that were regulars. A couple to mention was Titanics, Bora Boras, The Caves, Lowenbraughs, B-52's etc........ The times were always fun. I remember staying up late in the Royal Oaks park and it seemed everyone you knew would pass by and stop to talk. I loved Peavys bar in the Oaks. The dances at the school and youth center. Ours was a different time back then. The long bus rides to and from school and the fun we had talking. The "hitch hike" stands. You could always find a way to the base and back home and you never worried about getting picked up by a whacko. The metro and Madirid as a whole. How about the bowling alley on base, played video games and sat in the back to talk with friends. Gees not a day goes by that I don't miss it. Why is it that everyone I talk to from there feels the same way? | | | Shared By: jerry kennedy | | I forgot to add.
Baseball was a big thing in RO. I played PeeWee league baseball with the Yankees, Minor League with the Matadors and Major League with the Avengers.
Does anyone remember the Green family? They had 8 kids when we got to the Oaks. Doug, Don, Dennis, Darrel, David, Darren, Drew,etc......
They stayed in RO longer than any family because of Mom staying pregnant. Last I knew, they were in Ohio and had 13 kids total
The Toths in San Antonio, our neighbors after moving to San Antonio, informed us of knowing them after they moved back State-side from Madrid. | | | Shared By: Jerry Kennedy | | I did not graduate from THS. We were in Spain from 1968-1972. I attended Royal Oaks Elementary and Torrejon Middel School thru 7th grade. We were transferred to Torrejon in March 1968. We stayed at the Hotel Aitana until our Unit 60-A became available. I was in 3rd grade and the teacher was Ms. Hartzog. Chris White was my new friend at school. Moved into the Oaks a few months later. Dad rented a Seat 1600 to pick us up at RO elementary to go to our new home. 3 bdrm, 2 bath, black slate floor, non-fuctioning triagular fireplace. Our '68 green VW bus came in a few months later. If you stood in front of the Fruteria, there was an small open area. To the left was a fire lane and the 4-plex where Kurt and Traci Banick lived and to the right was the Dempsey's. At the end of the fire lane is where our unit was located.
Fourth grade teacher was Mr. Martinez. My name was chosen out of a barrel of all student names at R.O. to go to Barajas airport to see astronaut Frank Boreman arrive.
Fifth grade teacher was Mr. Hanson. I was a Bus Patrol for the younger elementary students in RO.
6th grade at TMS teacher was Ms. Langley. I remember all the common elements of RO. Sewer hopping, The Pie-Man,Pottery-Man, Candy-Man, Vincent, the flamenco guitar teacher, a particular gold Chevy pickup with a camper shell that had "Y Espana casi Na" on the back, Capri Shepard's family transport, (that camper came into play after we left Madrid for San Antonio, Texas) and Mrs. Fox hauling ass after speeders on the low road and honking the horn of her Seat 850 Sport Coupe. My favorite thing to do, aside from the pool was to buy a small pan loaf and a small jar of olives and sit in front of the entrance to La Moreleja and watch the expensive cars driving in.
Middle of 6th grade we moved to Las Torres. Dad had a TDY tour in Saudi Arabia for 18 months. There were many Americans that lived in this complex. The Liddingtons, Steve, Pam and Judy, The Rocha's Dave and Debbie, The Siegers, Lon and Jodi and a few others I don't remember last names, Jeff and Andy. I used to use our dog as an excuse to sneak out and go drinking with the high school kids from the complex. I would take our German Shepard with me and go to a Pub in Chanmartin to drink, smoke and throw darts until the wee hours of the morning. Granted, I was 12 years old and
hanging out with high schoolers and doing things that would have been considered juvenile delinquency here in the states.
7th grade, The Cardinelli's. Mrs for English and Mr. for math. Coach Thacker for P.E. Got busted skipping class and smoking. Had to stay after school and hitch-hike home from the base to Las Torres.
Suprise!!!! My dad had come in for a short visit from Saudi. I got the crap beat out of me. Perfect timing. I'm not saying it was not deserved.
We got marching orders for San Antonio, Texas. Randolph AFB.
We thought for sure we would be riding horses to school.
My brothers and sister stayed with Dan and Karen Heights in R.O. while Dad and Mom took a last tour of southern Spain taking the green VW van to Rota to ship to the States. Mom and Dad were still into each other big time. They loved "Tasca hopping", as they called it. Casa Botin was part of it. Hitting the bars and restaurants in Madrid was a big part of our parent thing there.
I stayed with Scott and Mark Keller. We pitched a tent in their yard and my last days in Royal Oaks were done. I did run into them at Randolph AFB many year later, in 1984 or so. Have not heard or seen them since.
The whole experience of living in Spain and traveling throughout Europe, Germany, Austria, Switzerland, Italy, Greece, Iran and Saudi Arabia was the best real life learning anyone could plan.
| | | Shared By: Carlton R. | | Hello Rob Gosnell. You may not remember me, During those days I went by Carl and my last name is Roark. Not sure I'm in any yearbooks for reference since I never bought any : (
I do however remember playing darts at your house where I think you had the dart board on the back of your front door. I think those units all had two front doors if I recall and your dart board was behind the front door on the right as you were approaching the front of your unit which I think was upstairs. I also remember you were a good and VERY competitive dart player, and basketball player as well : )
I think you had a sister whose name was either Celia or Cecilia which I remembered only because of the Simon and Garfunkel song that came out around that time and because I think I even heard it being played at your house while I was there. I can't remember the names of some of my friends back then, but because of that song I remembered your sister's name. I doubt I ever said a word to her and vice versa. Funny how certain things can trigger memories.
By the way, I lived at 113-B on the low road facing the park across from the Pool. Some of my neighbors were the Teachey family, Greg Germany, the Treadwells and the Youngs. Maybe some of those names ring a bell.
Somebody else on this site mentioned sewer-hopping which is something I wanted to mention, but didn't like how it might sound to someone arriving here who didn't really understand that right of passage for those living in Royal Oaks, but since it's already been mentioned, what the heck : )
I lived in Royal Oaks from 1969 to 1973 and then my father was transferred to Griffith AFB in Rome, NY. The strange thing was that on the first day at that new school in Rome, NY, I walk into the men's room and this guy just stares at me with a puzzled look and I stare back the same way because we realize we somehow know each other but can't immediately figure out how that's possible. It then dawns on us that we knew each other from Royal Oaks. His family had transferred to Rome, NY about a year ealier. His name was Tom Muse in case that name rings a bell.
Well, I gotta run, but it was great to see your post! Let me know if any of the memories I recalled above, that you can corroborate, were correct : )
| | | Shared By: Rob Gosnell Class of 76 | | So many things to remember! This site is great, all the memories, such good times and great friends.
I remember the New Years party in Madrid (72) where we all went downtown and lit the place up. I was w/Mike Ross, Clem Saenz, Alberto Vargas and Robert Saenz. It was like to whole high school was there. I can't remember who it was but they were wearing a sombrero and we put fire crackers all around it and lit them. The hat fell perfectly around his neck as if nothing happened, of course the top was gone and he was still sucking down his brew. I recall Karen Blecker rolling down the street right past us like a bowling ball. I remember the fight w/the locals on the metro.
School stories: does anyone remember when Clem Saenz had his shoulder dislocated by the guy from Tripoli in the European wrestling Championships. The guys was jumping up and down like he had won and Clem had Coach Robinson pop it back in and he pinned the guy in less than 10 seconds.
I recall the basketball game for our division, I think we were playing Zaragoza, it was tied up and I got fouled at the buzzer. My nerves were going nuts since the gym was standing room only. Clem was standing against the wall under the goal hollering at me. He told me I had made that shot a million times (thanks Clem!). I was so glad it went in.
I do remember Coach Ghant, Coach Wilson, Coach Robinson. I can't remember our track coach. Those teachers we had, who was the English teacher in the yearbook who had the long red hair. He was great, looked like the lead singer for Three Dog Night.
I lived @ 223 in the Oaks right above the gym and movie theater. We could see movies for a dime, then it went up to a quarter (we freaked out) and those midnight shows, the national anthem and football highlights.
The fun and memories never stop. I have sat here and read every posting there is.
Brett,
I will send photos soon. | | | Shared By: Ken Begley | | Hi all! Ken Begley here, class of 77. I was reading through some of the other memories posted here and I was reminded of one of my favorite places, the theater at the Royal Oaks. I was going to the theater one evening. Just so happened a dance was going on at the same time. Anyway, some of the guys from Torrejon had come over for the dance and had taken a detour at one of the local bars. A fight with some of the locals ensued and our folks ran back to the dance to hide. The Guardia Civil had gotten in touch with the SP's stationed at the Oaks and they were looking for someone named David Guntert and all that they knew was that he was wearing a letterman's jacket. Guess who comes strolling down to the theater in his letterman's jacket. The SP orders me in the car and there is a not too happy Guardia Civil in the backseat. I get in and despite the fact that my jacket says Ken Begley on it and that I have my military dependant's ID (which the SP looks at); because I am wearing my letterman's jacket, they think they have their man and they are taking me to the Guardia station. It just so happened that Valerie Herbert and Tori Yarsky see me get in the car and they come running. Valerie and Tori create such a commotion (jumping up and down and screaming at the SP) that the cop finally relents and convinces the Guardia that I was not their suspect. If they had not come to my rescue, I am sure I would have spent the night (or longer) in the local slammer. Happily I was able to relay this story several years ago over lunch in Ft. Lauderdale to David Guntert. David and I were on the wrestling team together. I had discovered that David lived in the area and I looked him up while I was down there on business. We both had a good laugh! | | | Shared By: Sylvia M. | | Thank You Thank You for all the memories! I did not go to the HS there, I had just finished Jr. High there and my dad got his orders. We were there from 71 to 76 but my older brother did go to HS there. His name is Johhny Martinez anyone remember him??? We lived in Royal Oaks and I remember lots of things there I use to do with friends. Had good times there, movie theater, dances, pieman, candyman, the pool, and I also remember sewer hopping lol anyone remember that??? So like i said Thank you so very much for this site! | | | Shared By: Carlton R. | | I lived in Royal Oaks during 1969 to 1973 and those years in Spain were some of the best in my life and were almost magical. I'm 49 and still think about those years every few months. The Guardia Civil, Fruiteria, Candyman, Pieman, Pool complex, Gym, Theater, hitchhiking at the back gate to the base, all in Royal Oaks, catching the P29 bus at the front gate to go to the Plaza Castilla, the long rides to school in tour buses, the smell of Jet fuel from the runway not far from where we played basketball on the outdoor courts at the Torrejon Middle School.
Does anyone remember Mr. Gearhardt (sp) the middle school gym teacher.
Anyone remember Larry and Gerry Teachey, Kevin Pritchard, Alberto Vargas, Robby Gosnell, Greg Germany, Butch and Greg Treadwell, Anthony Truss (died of Leukemia while in Spain), Mike and Chris Gregoris. Wish I could recall more names : (
Somebody here mentioned Clem Saenz. I actually remember him, he was a wrestler at Torrejon High and lived in Royal Oaks close to the street that led to the Theater. He also knew Robby Gosnell.
Every time I visit a site like this about Spain, my mind just races back in time to memories I will cherish forever. | | | Shared By: Brett Zamora | A couple of months back, I had the pleasure of getting together with Don Pierini, in Denver. We went out and had some great pizza and at least a few beers. :)
What a great experience it is to sit down and share memories with friends. Don and I kept throwing out names, saying 'Do you remember...?'
Just hearing the names of some former classmates, particularly if I knew them personally, brought lot's of smiles. Rodney and Junior Shelton, Rick Click, Lon Seiger, Robert and Clem Saenz, Sam Newton, Danny Enriquez, Bill Edwards, Bill Tanton (Trog), Paul (Horse) May, John (Taco) Soto... this list goes on and on.
And of course we wouldn't be good red-blooded men, if we didn't discuss all the wonderful THS babes too! LOL!!
I remember saying to Don that in H.S. I had a crush on Danielle Fink (she didn't even know who I was!), and his reply was 'Who didn't have a crush on her!' LOL!
But I do have to say, that having been so involved with sports, I think we had the greatest (interpreted hottest!) cheerleaders in the world. (Okay... so I'm biased. Deal with it!)
It amazes me that as I go through life and I catch up with former MHS/THS alumni, that we all share such fond memories of our times in Spain. I love hearing from others about somebody else that they've run into over the years, where they live now, what they do today, and especially some of the memories they have of the person, when they lived in Spain.
If you've visited this site and you haven't shared some memories, what are you waiting for??? Read through this list. If even one of the items makes you smile or feel warm inside, then you owe it to the rest of us, and all those visitors that haven't arrived here yet, to share a memory with us. It's through these memories that we all remember just how special what we had was! | | | Shared By: Tony Garcia | | Hi Brett,
This is Tony Garcia '89. I went to THS later than most of the people here, but I can totally identify with so many of the memories on this list! It just goes to show you how connected we all are as THS alumi no matter when we went there. For example -- you mentioned that you lived in Alameda de Osuna. My friends Mike Lemons and Ian Morfeld also lived there and my brother Rob and I would spend so much time there, especially in the summer. They had a really nice neighborhood swimming pool where we'd spend many a lazy summer day. We'd also go out to the nearby olive grove to ride our bikes or walk his dog and go play soccer and basketball with the Spanish kids in the park/playground area. When we wanted to go into Madrid, we'd walk to the Metro stop in Canillejas (a good 20-30 minute walk, as I recall) and take the Metro downtown. We also were at a couple of the "fiestas del barrio" and those were a lot of fun, with live music, tons of food, and yummy sangria! Even though I didn't live there myself, Alameda de Osuna will alway be a big part of my memories of España. | | | Shared By: Steve Emerson | | Well,....my parents for whatever reason did not explore Spain while there. It was up to me to see as much as possible. thru school trips and "escaping" from the house. My best trick was to
spend the "weekend" at the Oaks with my good friends Jerry & Terry Dover. Leave school Friday afternoon and ride the school bus to the Oaks and catch a movie that nght. Saturday & Sunday
we would head out and just run all over Madrid using the Metro
as our choice transportaion. I know we hit every station, collecting the tickets which had the name of the stations, eating at the bars, seeing the zoo and attraction park for the rides. and other sites in Madrid. We love going to Retro Park and renting the boats throwing those walnuts to splash each other. Sunday was of course hitting the Rastro and see what we could buy, I alot of neat stuff there. I knew my parents would not find out where I was because of NO TELEPHONES to check up on me. Monday would drag around and back to school and finally home.
Other times would be local hikes thru the Torrejon area out in the country side. One time, we wonder into the end of a shooting range! We kept hearing some kind of hissing noise over our heads wondering what the heck as we made our way thru these
large mounds of dirt. Once we cleared these high mounds, we saw that we were standing oppsite side of a field seeing a line up of men and the sounds of gun fire! We then threw ourselves back into full retreat knowing now what the heck it was that was
flying over our heads!!
Trips to Rota, Zaragoza, Murcia were great as well as the Senior
trip to Ibiza!
Well,....I join the Air Force after graduating and lucky me, my first
assignment was right back at Torrejon! Now that I had more money to burn and a car to drive,..yes,....if I was not pulling duty,
I was off base somewhere else in Spain seeing and exploring as much as I could.
How I miss Spain to this day,............
Steve
Class of 79'
| | | Shared By: Gabriele (Gaby Melton) | | I have fond memories of Spain. Way to many to mention. I do however remember a little bar resteraunt in town by the name of "Select" wonder if anyone our there remembers it. I went there a couple of times with a girlfriend named April Bennett. She was a year ahead of me. I also remember our teen club, where we, as young teenagers were able to go and let loose. I could go on and on but all of you that were there will know what I mean.
Live in Vallejo Ca now and many years have passed but evertime I get on this site it brings back memoris. Again keep up the good work you are doing on this site.
| | | Shared By: Brett Zamora | Time for another wild memory... I don't know how many of you ever went to a Spanish carnival, but if you did and you ever went on the bumper cars, you'll know that the Spanish don't approach bumper cars the way that American kids do. That minor little detail nearly got my brother and I pounded.
As I've said before, we lived in a Spanish community near the airport. One year they had a carnival in an open area that was just on the other side of the freeway from where we lived.
My brother and I went to the carnival and we were having a great time. Then we decided to go on the bumper cars. I think I must have been about 16 at the time and my brother was 14. So we get on these cars and like any red blooded American, we proceed to start bashing into other cars with the greatest aggression that we can muster up.
I remember getting a good amount of speed going at one point and I had this one car, directly in my sights. The Spanish guy in the car didn't see me coming and I smashed into him from the rear. His head snapped back and bounced like a ping-pong ball of the power pole that was attached to the back of the car.
Man I nailed him!! I was laughing so hard!
So anyway... the ride ends and my brother and I are walking around this carnival and we decided to stop at one of those games booths where you throw darts at balloons. We're still having a good time... completely unaware of the crowd that is forming behind us.
Finally we started to notice that things were not quite as they should be and we turn around and there's the guy whose head I had smashed off the power pole and he was not one bit happy. And he had lots of friends too.
It seems that the Spanish think the bumper cars are just for driving around very nicely. (The should have carried that tradition to the freeways.)
It would have been pretty a pretty ugly scene, if not for a respectable older Spanish man, who picked up a good sized stick and told the kids to stay away. He escorted us to the edge of the carnival with the crowd following.
When we got to the edge of the carnival, he told us to run, and man did we!!! The crowd ran after us, but fortunately we were faster than them. We ran across the freeway as if it were life or death. Through the hole in the chain link fence and finally we were in our own community.
We managed to get home safely, but man did we learn a valuable lesson. Don't go smashing Spanish kids on the bumper cars.
Even though I learned that lesson, I still don't understand why there was such a fuss. I mean seriously... they call them bumper cars for a reason! Haven't you ever had your head bounce off the power bar??? I thought that was the goal! LOL!!!!
| | | Shared By: Steve Emerson | | Brett,
Yes, I also do remember a overpass as well near the rib place.
When I was stationed there, the 2186 Comm Sqdn we would go
over for a luncheon for a member who was PCS'in out.
I saw the damage on TV when I was living in Sacramento at the
time. I do not re-call if the owners re-built their business nor
do I recall who were the terrorist grp. that claimed the bombing.
I do believe the device was placed in the men's bathroom from
what my friend had advised. | | | Shared By: Brett Zamora | One place that was really special for my family was a restaurant in downtown Madrid. It was named Botin's. My dad and mom used to take us there for special times. I learned to love roast pig by eating it at Botin's.
I also remember that restaurant along the freeway too. Living in Alameda de Osuna, we used to take this little frontage road to get to the freeway and if I remember correctly, it used to cross over the freeway, right by that restaurant. I believe their sign promoted their roast lamb.
Hard to believe that place was blown up!!
| | | Shared By: Steve Emerson | | Scott,
I think I know which rib place you mention. It wasn't too far from the Madrid airport,.. kinda near the runway. If so... it was still doing very good with the American crowd, been there afew times however,... in 1985,..terrorists blew it up trying to get a few Americans however,... they timed wrong. They set off the bomb way after the "American" dinner time so the number of American casualties were low. Afew did get hurt but sadly, a few Spanish folks were killed. A friend of my was caught in the blast and was cut up a bit but was able to walk away with his friends who were at the bar at the time. | | | Shared By: Scott Newman | | How about a memory of a first date with a certain red haired girl? We decided to meet in Madrid at a Chinese restaurant. I hadn't yet figured out the whole peseta to dollar thing and didn't have nearly enough to cover the dinner. Much to my relief, I saw some buds walking by (Juan Lubroth and Peter Vidal), and they graciously loaned me the correct amount to cover the dinner...Whew...they saved me from lots of embarrassment!!! | | | Shared By: Scott Newman | | Who remembers the little restaurant on the way from the base to Madrid that used to serve "chops". They cooked the chops in a big open air barbecue...and for a plate of ribs, some bread, and a glass of Sangria, they charged like 75 pesetas. Halfway through the shool year (74-75), the restaurant was closed down by the board of health. I never knew why, but the rumor was that the chops were from dogs.... | | | Shared By: Trina Solis-Reyes | This is embarrrassing.....BUT, here goes. It was the great Ski Trip of Winter 1975.....my first. I was sooooo looking forward to it. SO, we lived in the Roaks on top of a "hill" just as you entered. I decided to water down the front lawn the night before so the ice would freeze. It did and I got outside the next morning with my skis and poles in hand ready to gear up to put into action the things I had learned. My dad had just had foot surgery so he is looking at me out of the huge window overlooking the front. After he realized what his daughter (an adventurous one at that) was going to do....he couldn't get to the door fast enough to stop me.
I bravedly and boldly stood at the top of the hill with skis on, poles ready to push off, knees slightly bent, took a deep breath and with one great push........off I went down the hill. Well.......the ground was frozen under ice.......so, the poles stuck in the ground and I took off without them. I will never forget the look on the Spaniards face that was driving by as I was headed down the hill screaming. There was a low brick wall that was between the lawn at the sidewalk at the end of the lawn. That could have been a good thing or bad thing....depending on how you look at things. The majority of me ended up on the other side of the wall on the sidewalk....the leg that was on the lawn side was good.....the ankle was broken though.
It took him a while but my dad finally got down to me, lifted me up on his back and gave me a piggyback ride up to the house while he limped with his cane. We had to go get medical attention on base and I ended up in a cast...... WHICH...... evidently...... had I gone on the skiing trip, I would have ended up there anyway. I would have had more fun but I know there is at least one Spaniard in this world that has told this story over and over everytime the stories are told about the Americans that resided in the Roaks.
| | | Shared By: Brett Zamora | My family used to live in a Spanish community, named Alameda de Osuna. It was located about halfway between the Base and the ROAKs, near the airport. Anyway, we lived in a 5 story, brick, apartment building and I believe we were the only American family that lived in this particular building. Pastor Mike, lived in Alameda de Osuna too.
One year, the Dad, in one of the families that we had developed a friendships with, started the kids in the building, my siblings, and the Spanish kids, on a project to build a big Star Of David, decorated with lights. The plan was to display it at the top of our building. I remember really enjoying working on that. We made it out of metal frames, and it had big clear outdoor Christmas lights on it. If I remember correctly, we were very meticulous in putting this star together. The lights were all evenly spaced and secured tightly to the metal frame. I'd say the star was about 4 to 5 feet tall.
Anyway... it turned out great and we mounted it on the top of the building every year that we lived there, after building it. You could see it from a great distance too. It was a really cool project that helped bring both the Spanish families and our American family much closer. My step-mom still stays in touch with the family that kicked that project off. | | | Shared By: Jason Doughty | I remember this like it was yesterday because of the injustice of it all. We were living in Royal Oaks our 1st year (I think) and I was in the 6th grade. We all had those 4-plexes, right? (Except for those snotty generals’ kids or whatever.) So anyway, and I swear this is gospel. I wanted a bb gun bad. No, I’m not confusing this with “A Christmas Story” so get off it. I wanted one because my next door neighbor, Mike Wall (not his real name), had one and we figured, you know, we’d have a lot of fun if both us had one, right? So, yes, I got a bb gun and the lecture et al from my old man. Whatever.
Now stay with me on this. We lived (and I don’t know north from south & in from out) kind of by the back gate. Not way up by the back gate but up from the Fruiteria on the one side next to the ravine or whatever it was. So one day we take our bb guns out into this field. We’re having a great time shooting grasshoppers and whatever. Wait a minute, this must have happened in the summer but I got the bb gun for Christmas. Well, maybe it was my birthday in May. Let’s still pretend it was Christmas so that my story is relevant.
All right, so we’re in the field and heading down to where the movie theater was, you know, along this field. It was like a shortcut to the movie theater. Doesn’t anyone remember this? Are you sure you guys were even in Spain? So we get down to the end of the field and there’s this, I don’t know, a grove of trees or something. So now we’re bored with shooting grasshoppers and butterflies and Mike thinks it would be cool if we shot each other. And by the way, I’m running low on bb’s and Mike’s got a load of them. (This is an important detail because of the power that goes with having the ammo.) So he goes into the grove and I go by the bushes and we start shooting each other. No protective eyewear – none of the sissy safety stuff. Ok, no big deal. Again, we get bored with that.
Now we continue our crime spree over to the little league baseball fields behind the gym, wasn’t it? Remember the major league field with the green painted press box? (This was the year the 1st Torrejon all star 11-12 year-old baseball team won the European championship and went to Williamsport, PA. I played that year but in the minor league as a 12-year-old. Yeah, I sucked but that’s not important here.) So anyway, there’s this kid and his dad flying a gas-powered airplane on a string on the field. Mike and I climb into the press box and he’s shooting bb’s around in the box and I’m scrambling for them because, like I said, I’m out. So out of the blue, he ducks down inside the press box. Of course, I look up to see what’s going on and I see this poor kid rubbing his lower back. When I do, he and his dad are looking at me and so, well yeah, I duck down too. Mike then says, “I shot that kid.” Now I’m thinking this guy is nuckin’ futs. Actually I knew that before but that’s another story.
So anyway we sneak back down the ladder (with our bb guns) and slink away. So we make it back to our house and we’re playing around back by the rock wall. Next thing I know my dad comes around and says there’s someone asking questions at our house and it doesn’t look good. Yeah, you guessed it; it’s the gunshot victim and his parents. He knew me because we used to live at the 3 Towers apartment complex together. So I’m about to soil my pants. We’re all sitting together in our living room and the kid raises his shirt and there’s this big red welt on his back. So I’m freaking out and mumbling and stammering and, yeah, I implicate Mike (what, I’m not taking this fall by myself). So my dad tells me to go get Mike. He comes over and flat out denies everything. I’m, like, this nightmare is not happening!
So finally in utter desperation (and understand, no one read me my rights or offered me an attorney) I said, “Well, we might as well tell the truth.” Cause it was clear Mike wasn’t going to. My dad was the judge and I KNEW the judge. So I don’t remember exactly what I said, man, my mind was spinning. I kept stammering hoping Mike would admit his role in this whole mess. Yeah, right; all he does is look over at me with his mouth agape like I’m a retard or something.
So anyway, the trial ends, Mike goes home and I’m sent to my room/holding cell to await my fate. My dad assures the injured parties that justice will be done (I’m having trouble with tenses in this story). So later my dad comes into my cell and lectures me about the concept of “guilt by association” in between my pleas & sobs for mercy. I wasn’t bare-bottomed, I still had my underwear between me and whatever he hit me with. The next day he surgically disassembled my bb gun into parts smaller than can be seen with the naked eye. | | | Shared By: Corinne(CoCo) Harden 76 | | Great memory Brett! I have a similar one about the first days and meals at the hotel in Madrid :) My sisters and I used to love hanging out down in the hotel's bar/restaurant just to eat the great Spanish olives that were everywhere in bowls for free! YUM!! Of course, flirting and making friends with the hotel staff was a great way to learn Spanish too :)) In an effort to keep some of our 'American' traditions though, my Dad found a little hole-in-the-wall restaurant near the hotel that served PIZZA! YAY!! We were thrilled, until we saw the pools of olive oil floating on the top of the pizza and the mystery meat they used in place of pepperoni :( We scarfed it down anywayz though, and it was actually tasty..... then we all suffered with Madriditis for at least a week after that LOL!! Ironically, we were all eating healthier there and just didn't realize it! :)) | | | Shared By: Brett Zamora | | Like many MHS/THS folks, my Dad, sister, and I stayed at the Aitana Hotel, when we first arrived in Spain. I will never forget the first meal we ate there.
If memory serves me correctly, there was a diner type restaurant downstairs that served breakfast. When we went down to the restaurant, I remember not really seeing much on the menu that I felt comfortable ordering, except for one thing. Bacon and eggs! YES!!! Man was that going to be tasty!
Uh... correction... welcome to olive oil. LOL!!! Actually, I am quite fond of olive oil now that my tastes have matured. But as a 12 year old kid, eggs fried in olive oil was not high on my list of breakfasts that I would be re-ordering.
Add to that memory the bacon! Oh no!!!! What are all those little white nodules all over the bacon??? Eeewwww!!!! LOL!
Okay... maybe my memory is a little flawed, but I doubt it. Those folks defintely needed to be introduced to Hormel.
I eventually adapted and enjoyed a great many foods overseas, but man those first few days were rough!
| | | Shared By: Susan Kilgore '75 | I remember stepping off the plane thinking I was going to see some beautiful sunshine, nope, just snowflakes falling. And WHO is freezing? This was March, it snows in March? No way!
Then off to the base hotel. Now, being as we had never, ever stayed in one, we thought we were just the luckiest kids, we were getting our own room attached to our parents room. And we could run around in the lobby and stuff. Gosh, what freedom we were experiencing.
This felt too good to be true! Going out to eat even. Man, this was the life. You can't imagine the excitement we felt.
I remember one day Lisa running into the room saying there was a girl there in the hotel now that was my age and in the same grade. Before I know it, this girl is coming into our room. "Hi, I am Leslie Bogue, you must be Susan, Lisa's sister, I hear we are in the same grade too." Yes, my first meeting with Leslie. We hung out in the lobby and we would dance to whatever music we were listening to and I taught her some dance moves that I knew and she did the same. I wish I could have started school the same day she did but I had come down with some kind of flu bug! I was bummed but excited when I finally got to go to the Middle School. Of course, everyone knew Leslie by then, and would ask me if I had met her yet. :-)
I also remember shutting my locker door one day, (hey, these things were huge compared to the ones in my old JR. HS) and there was one FYNE dude looking at me with hair barely covering one of his eyes, and he asked me if I was new. I'm sure I answered correctly, have no idea of what I said, I was looking into Joe Marino's eyes. Mmmmmmm......I guess moving away from the old boyfriend wasn't going to be such a bad thing after all. :-) | | | Shared By: Corinne(CoCo) Harden 76 | | Many of us in Spain were lucky to have the opportunity to live in the local communities in and around Madrid, which provided us with a unique look into their culture oftentimes. Our first year in Spain, we were thrilled to live in central Madrid. We had a small apt a few blocks from the Prado Museum and Retiro Park on one side, and Plaza Mayor and Puerto del Sol on the other side. We enjoyed lots of time wandering around the museum, the park, and the markets/shops by day, then lingering thru the plazas, discos, and tosca hopping by night! What a truly amazing and fun time in life that was!! As an adult now, I fully appreciate just how fortunate we were to go thru our growing up years in such a unique and wonderful way! :)) | | | Shared By: Brett Zamora | | I used to love going over to the Service Club. I'd go over there and order french fries. Seems like they had the best fries around. The Service Club was another place I used to pull pranks. One of my favorites was to take the top off the sugar containers, then using a napkin to keep the sugar from falling out, I'd turn the container upside down on the table, slide the napkin out, and place the top on what was actually the bottom of the sugar container. Those containers had such uniform shapes that you couldn't tell if it was upside down. Countless laughs were had over this little prank. | | | Shared By: Lynn Compton Broesche | One of the memories I have is cutting class by sitting out on the pipes just outside the front doors (also just outside the principals offices). Got away with it too....
Another was my typing and shorthand teacher Ms. Calmese. She knew that Debbie Dial and I would cut class cuz' we'd sit in that little office just outside the typing room. But I will admit I did get my first office job because she stayed on me in both of her classes. She also was our Drill Team Sponsor my senior year (75), and I remember at one football game we didn't have anyone to play the drum, she stepped up to the drum and started beating LEFT, LEFT, LEFT, RIGHT, LEFT. We got thru it but all were laughing that a teacher would do that.
| | | Shared By: Corinne (CoCo) Harden 76 | | As my own kids go through school, I've come to realize that we at THS had a truly outstanding group of teachers during our years in Spain! I'm sure everyone has memories of a favorite or influential teacher. I can't seem to pick just one though :) My personal favorite and mentor was Ms Dion... she had such a wonderful sense of humor and was a strong motivator for me. I also loved having her to speak French with :) The biggest influences in my life choices were CMsgt Naumann, Col. Johnson, and the counselor, Mr Correll. I'll alwayz be grateful for their help and support in preparing for my future. (It was such a treat to see CMsgt Naumann in Ft Lauderdale too!) But in my opinion, the best classroom teacher was Mr Mortimer! Ole Paul Neuman himself! LOL!! In his class you learned so much, and enjoyed it too... loved his outspoken opinionated ways :)) There were lots more great teachers, but those few have alwayz stuck in my memory through the years... :)) | | | Shared By: Brett Zamora | | I used to spend a lot of time out at the base golf course. So many great memories of that place. I can remember spending hours wading in the river that sat between the tee and the green of the second hole. I'd collect hundreds of golf balls there and re-sell them to make money. The first tee was the most awesome starting hole too. Nice elevated tee, hitting down into the fairway of a nice dog-leg right fairway. Loved that course!!! | | | Shared By: Brett Zamora | | I remember being in Rota one year, and after our cross-country race, I was watching the football game. It was a year that had one of the most awesome THS football teams that I can remember. Anyway, during this game Dave Barnes lined up against his counterpart on the Rota team and when the ball was snapped, Dave, ran right over the top of the guy. Knocked him out cold. I couldn't believe it. Everybody was just standing around with this look of disbelief. Dave was one of the best athletes to cross the halls of THS. | | | Shared By: John Dammier | | I remember the Aero Club.......... my father was the instructor there when he retired. Then moved to Rota to manage and instruct there. There was a place next door that used to rent car repair stalls complete with tool rentals etc. Fond memories listening to my father giving ground classes dealing with weather, VFR flying etc. ........ waiting in my sweaty tennis clothes (my first experience with Jock Itch OUCH!). If I didn't feel like waiting........ it was off to the stands....... more fond memories there. John.........PEACE! | | | Shared By: Corinne (CoCo) Harden | | Some of my most thrilling memories of Spain involved learning to fly. I believe several others of you were also involved with the Aeroclub on Base as well. I remember having to work hard all summer of 75 because my Dad said I would have to pay for half my flying lessons if I really wanted to do it... and so I did all Fall of my senior year. It was a challenge that required me to get past my strong fear of heights, but I discovered that once I was safe inside the cockpit of the cessna and flying high above the beautiful countryside, it gave me a great feeling of freedom :)
Then on 31 Dec 1975, just after my 17th birthday, my instructor gave me my shot at flying solo. It was scary, yet invigorating, to know I was taking my life in my own hands and going for it! I took off and soared around the skies feeling this great surreal sense of peace, then I came back for 2 touch and go's before landing safely... What A Thrill!!!
I remember my Dad bought a huge magnum of champagne, and allowed me a few close friends over to celebrate that New Year... and what a celebration that was! :) Then, two weeks later I got my gold solo wings pinned on at the AFROTC Dining Out. Those memories are now some of the most treasured thrilling moments in my young life :)) | | | Shared By: Brett Zamora | | When we first moved to Spain, I remember that they had slot machines at several locations on the base. The NCO club and the bowling alley were two that I knew of. My brother and I used to go the bowling alley and when the staff wasn't looking, we'd put quarters in the slot machines. Seems to me like we won reasonably frequently, for such a hit and miss operation. If I remember correctly, I believe 3 bells paid out 18 quarters. Made lot's of noise too, so we always had to collect our winnings and get out fast. LOL! | | | Shared By: Kevin Warren | | One of my favorite memories came during "mini week". In the Mid 70s for a couple years we had this two week period between Semesters where the students got to propose classes like Bachelor Cooking, Guitar, Knitting, etc. Since nobody had to attend at all there was no roll call and few rules.
Myself and Robert Hererra were roaming the third floor halls and got into a wet paper towel fight on the men's room side near the bathroom. It escalated and a fire extinguisher (complete with cigerette butt soaked water) was employed by our ruthless upper classman opponents. Three of us retreated into the men's room directly over the nutrition break area. We were trapped - but I was holding the door solidly.
Suddenly one of the guys with us (I forget who) jumped out the third floor window. Robert- intent on not getting soaked- jumped out the window behind him.. unaware that the person before him had actually jumped onto a small ledge below the window and walked around to an open window! I ran to the window just in time to see Roberto looking up at me as he fell three floors much to the suprise of the people at lunch at that time. Somehow he landed without breaking anything and we all had a great laugh about it. His feet left a two inch dent in the sod! | | | Shared By: Brett Zamora | | Ah yes... the dances. Lived for those myself. Most of the dances I attended were at the Teen Club out on the base, however, I also attended a couple out at the Royal Oaks pool. I learned to love Motown and learned to dance at that Teen Club. One of my favorite songs was What's Going On, by Marvin Gaye. It seems like we had so many great slow-dance songs to cozy up to our favorite girls with. Do you remember the room at the Teen Club that had black lights and bean bags? Talk about make-out heaven! Yow! | | | Shared By: Kevin Warren | | To add to Brett's "Stink Bomb" story.. the ones he speaks of came in little glass like capsules and smelled like six week old eggs.. This was the trick to "bombing" the school:
You may recall the main building was split into two halves divided by the corridor the terrace as on (with the row of small lockers. One side was the Boys bathroom side and the other was the girls bathroom side. Standing on the 3rd floor girls room side about 1 minute before the bell rang between classes you could drop one bomb all the way down the stair case missing the rails on each floor to the ground floor.. then chuck on hard to the middle of the second floor staircase.. immediately run to the other side of the building being sure not to be seen.
Repeat the affect on the other side,. making sure you end up on the floor YOUR next class will be on.. Then pretend to be as suprise as anyone else as they try to climb the stairs without gas masks to their next class.
| | | Shared By: Corinne (CoCo) Harden | When I think back on Spain, one of my fondest memories is of dancing all the time. Our first year there we lived downtown just a couple blocks from Plaza Mayor. We spent many weekends at the discos drinking gin and lemonade and dancing all night.
Then, once we moved to Royal Oaks, it was the Roaks and Base dances we partied at. I can remember busting my butt over chores and homework just to be able to go to a school dance on the weekend... my Dad was tough on us that way, but my sisters and I would do anything for a night out with you all!
Even today, my best opportunities to dance are when I meet up with you all at a reunion or GT... some memories are worth reliving over and over again with the people you love... especially as the years pass by. Oye amigos... we still know how to get down!! That's the way, uh huh, uh huh, I like it!!! :)) | | | Shared By: Brett Zamora | | I lived in a Spanish community, Alameda De Osuna. I thought it was really cool that we could go into bars at any age. They had the best pinball machines. My brother and I would spend hours playing pinball. We got so good that we could put in a duro (5 pesetas) and rack up free games such that we would tie the machine up all afternoon. Not a very good money making venture for the pinball owner. | | | Shared By: Brett Zamora | | So many memories, why I choose to list this one first, is beyond me. LOL! Anyway, they had the best stink bombs in Spain. I used to buy them at the Rastro. I remember that I used to find ways to leave class just before the bell would ring just so I could drop a stink bomb down into the stairwell. I'd do that and then stand off by the lockers and watch everybody's face as came out of the stairwell. I'm surprised I was never busted, because I used to stand by the side and just bust up. Anyway... I'm sure some of you remember pranks like that. Sadly, I was one of the people pulling them off. :) | |
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