JUST ONE STORY THAT STICKS OUT IN MY MIND, THAT I WOULD LIKE TO SHARE.
I will surely miss Bob; he was my friend for more than 43 years. The story below was written for the class reunion of 2001.
I have talked with Bob Marchese about attending the class reunion. He and his wife Judy, are going to attend.
For those of you who do not remember Bob. He was the Drafting, Wood Shop and Stage Crew Teacher, and my friend for more than 35 years. Bob and I have worked (Designing/Remodeling) homes together. We also were a little crazy in our younger years, as the following story will attest:
Bob and I would go prospecting for precious metals anytime he could get away from work and me from school. We would travel as far as Cerro Gordo, out of Keeler, and for fast outings, we would go to the Kern River.
Bob and I would typically ride together as I had a four-wheel drive truck and you needed this type of transportation to go where we would camp, or so I thought.
On one occasion, Bob said, "Rich, I will meet you below Lake Isabella dam at the campsite." He was bringing his son with him and would be a little late.
It was about one o'clock in the morning; the stars were shining bright, and the moon was just coming up over the mountain when I heard a funny noise.
The noise seemed to echo from the woods all around me.
I sat up trying to discern what was making this noise. As I waited, I could hear the roar of a large engine revving to a high pitch and then nothing.
At the same time, there was rustling, cracking and scraping sounds coming out of the woods. I rose to my feet peering as hard as I could into the dark to see what was making all that racket.
Suddenly, I heard my name being called over the revving of the engine. "Finnegaaaan!"
Then I see lights, and this great big class A Motor Home bearing down on me crackling and scraping through the trees.
As I stood there with my mouth wide open incredulously looking at this huge Motor Home, where a Motor Home should not have been!
This huge class "A" motorhome slowly comes to a stop in front of me, the door opens, and Bob leans out and says, "Where've ya been?!" Need I say more.
I had to winch the motorhome out to the hard part of the dirt road at the end of our stay.