Klosterman Will Be Remembered Fondly

In 1946-47, Don Klosterman sat at a table directly in front of me in Miss Grace Daniels’ art class at Compton High School. Also at my table was a beautiful blond coed named Berryl Campman. Don turned around frequently to flirt with Berryl; and soon he and I were engaged in conversations about many things, especially football.

I didn’t socialize with Don out of class, but whenever we saw each other he would call out my name and wave. He was a BMOC and I was an art major nerd, yet he never displayed a trace of jock-arrogance. We also had a connection through one of his sisters, Patty, who was a cheerleader at the same time my sister was a pompom girl, and through the Rozelles, another prominent Compton family. I met Pete handing out towels in boy’s P.E.

I never saw Don after high school, but every time I read about him one word came to mind: class.

FORREST G. WOOD

Bakersfield

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In the final analysis, sports are nothing but memories: Johnny Wooden, in his first year at UCLA, taking over a last-place team whose top player had graduated, and winning the division championship; riding the bus and the streetcar to Gilmore Field and Wrigley Field to see the Hollywood Stars and L.A. Angels of the old Pacific Coast League; and sitting in the stands at Gilmore watching a beautiful pass play unfold along the sideline and hearing the public address announcer intone, “Klosterman’s pass complete to Klinkhammer.”

Don Klosterman was a wonderful part of Los Angeles’ rich sports history, and he will live on . . . in our memories.

BART ROBERTSON

Torrance