Newport Class of ’38 Recalls the Horizons That Beckoned

A note about a 60th class reunion caught my attention when I spotted this line that went out to its graduates: “We are the lucky ones, let’s enjoy our longevity.”

What a wonderful outlook for a gathering that had to include painful reminders of friends no longer around. More than one-third of the 92 members of the 1938 graduating class from Newport Harbor High School in Newport Beach are deceased. Another dozen graduates have scattered so far nobody can locate them. But 22 remaining in touch did unite last weekend for a grand occasion long on fond reminiscence.

They agreed with classmate Roland Thompson, a shipbuilder in the state of Washington, who couldn’t join them but wrote: “We who grew up in the Newport Harbor area at the time were the most fortunate people on the planet.”

The Great Depression was on its last legs, and no one gave any thought that America would become embroiled in the war gaining strength in Europe. Sixty years ago, Juanita Lugo Stafford says, was a great time to be a student in Newport Beach.

“It wasn’t so crowded here then, we had the dances at the old Rendezvous Ballroom on Balboa, and we had a magnificent school.”

Stafford was one of five girls from the beach--as Newport Beach was known in the jargon of the day--who became lifelong friends with five girls from the hill. Or Goat Hill, as some affectionately called Costa Mesa, because of its many small goat farms.

The two sets of five met at Newport Harbor, which has always taken students from both cities.

“We just blended,” Stafford said. “There was never any feeling that any of us was better than anyone else because of which town we came from.”

Only four of the 10 remain alive, and three made it to the reunion. One, Maureen McClintock Rischard, had been class treasurer and worked on the yearbook, the Galleon.

“I think those friendships meant so much to me because I lived on a farm and I had grown up isolated,” she said.

Other friendships from that class have been remarkable for their longevity. Merel Coe of Costa Mesa and Rollo McClellan of Newport Beach played on the football team. They’re part of a small group that has breakfast together every Thursday morning. That breakfast, if you can believe this, has been going on for 60 years.

“The football coach, Ralph Reed, started it,” McClellan explained. “It was mainly for the coaches but sometimes some of us would go too. Eventually the coaches all died, so we students just took it over and kept it going.”

The Newport Harbor Sailors were the Cinderella team of the new Sunset League. The team had just 21 players, and as the yearbook said, “The squad was exceptionally light.” But the Sailors fooled everyone with a 6-2-1 record. McClellan told me stories about Coe’s tackling exploits as if it had all taken place yesterday instead of six decades past.

“The classes were smaller then,” Coe said. “We all knew each other, so it was easier to become close friends.”

But 60 years ago, Coe said, he could never have predicted that this class of innocents would soon be swept up in a great world war.

The 1938 class’ theme was “Beckoning Horizons.” The Galleon stated then: “Could we but look ahead and see what lies beyond the horizon, how much easier it would be for us to make our plans.”

Coe wound up a paratrooper instructor for the Army after the bombing of Pearl Harbor. His best friend from school, Phil Vaughan, became a bombardier pilot and was killed in the European theater.

“He and I never talked about going to war,” Coe said. “We just liked to ride horses and have fun.”

It’s the fun part of those high school days that the reunion revelers emphasized.

Most of the 22 had been to the 50th reunion and some of the other gatherings. But for Betty Raymond DeBrouwer of Carson City, Nevada, this was her first return. She got the biggest gasp, and then the biggest laugh, when she tried to explain her absence to her former classmates: “The first 14 years after school, I was in prison.” She had worked as a secretary at the state prison in Soledad.

Interviewing some of the reunion participants made me think about attending my own 30th high school reunion a few years ago. Would we still have one-fourth of our class return for a 60th? And, of course, would I be one of the lucky ones?

I feel fortunate that my old high school still stands in this era of constant construction. For the Class of ‘38, it’s a joy to all of them that their school still stands too. Its high tower is a historic bridge between their time and today, when the graduating class will be almost four times as large.

“When I go by the old school, what means the most to me is that it’s still thriving,” said Juanita Lugo Stafford. “It’s better than ever.”

Jerry Hicks’ column appears Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. Readers may reach Hicks by calling the Times Orange County Edition at (714) 966-7823 or by fax to (714) 966-7711, or e-mail to jerry.hicks@latimes.com