My family moved to CA from MA in January of my sixth grade. I started school at Bryson Ave. on Valentine's Day. It was a classroom filled with people who had known each other all their lives and not very accepting of the new kid. The kids at my table shared their holiday treats with me and at the end of the day as I started to walk home Myron caught up with me and we walked together. I was very happy to have found a friend. He was my only friend for the entire month I spent at Bryson. I always meant to tell him how important his friendship was to me. Unfortunately, I waited too long.
At one of the reunions he told me that he had graduated with a degree in accounting and had worked for an aerospace (I think) company for many years and hated it. Then, he opened at bait and tackle shop in the valley. Finally, he moved to San Diego and got his own boat. I'm glad he was able to do something he loved.
Myron called me in 2008. We talked back and forth for the entire year. He was supposed to come out to see me as the holidays approached in 2009. Then......I didn't hear from him again. I thought he had simply changed his mind, brought on new classes, (he taught nautical enginerring to children), or became too busy to call. I tried to reach him, but never could connect. Gerry, he knew you appreciated him. He told me the same story you posted above. He was close to more people than I realized. Because I lived in South Central, many of my friends at South Gate were not allowed to visit me. John Sheppard was my boyfriend all during high school, and he and Carol Miller were the only exceptions. Myron and I developed a friendship because he was curious, generous and kind. He remembered.
He invited me to visit him in Mexico, (he spoke Spanish fluently, and we shared the same love for that culture). I will always regret that I didn't.
I missed him then, and I miss him now. Knowing that he passed, doesn't make it easier, because we talked for hours we shared a lot and were close. It does let me know why he didn't call, why we didn't get to get together, and why he was unable to say good-bye. I believe I'll see him again...one day.
Robert Shaffer
Bob Shaffer
June Beylerian (Kurtz)
No one wore their letterman jacket more proudly than Myron. Like so many others, he died too soon.
Gerry Sullivan (Miketta)
My family moved to CA from MA in January of my sixth grade. I started school at Bryson Ave. on Valentine's Day. It was a classroom filled with people who had known each other all their lives and not very accepting of the new kid. The kids at my table shared their holiday treats with me and at the end of the day as I started to walk home Myron caught up with me and we walked together. I was very happy to have found a friend. He was my only friend for the entire month I spent at Bryson. I always meant to tell him how important his friendship was to me. Unfortunately, I waited too long.
At one of the reunions he told me that he had graduated with a degree in accounting and had worked for an aerospace (I think) company for many years and hated it. Then, he opened at bait and tackle shop in the valley. Finally, he moved to San Diego and got his own boat. I'm glad he was able to do something he loved.
Jeri Cusimano (Lopez)
Myron called me in 2008. We talked back and forth for the entire year. He was supposed to come out to see me as the holidays approached in 2009. Then......I didn't hear from him again. I thought he had simply changed his mind, brought on new classes, (he taught nautical enginerring to children), or became too busy to call. I tried to reach him, but never could connect. Gerry, he knew you appreciated him. He told me the same story you posted above. He was close to more people than I realized. Because I lived in South Central, many of my friends at South Gate were not allowed to visit me. John Sheppard was my boyfriend all during high school, and he and Carol Miller were the only exceptions. Myron and I developed a friendship because he was curious, generous and kind. He remembered.
He invited me to visit him in Mexico, (he spoke Spanish fluently, and we shared the same love for that culture). I will always regret that I didn't.
I missed him then, and I miss him now. Knowing that he passed, doesn't make it easier, because we talked for hours we shared a lot and were close. It does let me know why he didn't call, why we didn't get to get together, and why he was unable to say good-bye. I believe I'll see him again...one day.