Hal Hill

I was incredibly sad to read about Hal's passing. He was one of the good ones. Hal was my first boyfriend in 1st grade at Washington Ave school. He and GW Davis, my first husband were in Jr. High together and great friends. I don't know for sure how he passed but I suspect it was from cancer of the jaw. He was in excruciating pain. He would have never have come back to Roswell as his painful memories were too much. Hal had a great and creative mind. When Jim reunited our friendship we spent many hours o the phone. It's good he's no longer in pain. Shoot some pool in Heaven with GW and Vicente old friend.

I was incredibly sad to read about Hal's passing. He was one of the good ones. Hal was my first boyfriend in 1st grade at Washington Ave school. He and GW Davis, my first husband were in Jr. High together and great friends. I don't know for sure how he passed but I suspect it was from cancer of the jaw. He was in excruciating pain. He would have never have come back to Roswell as his painful memories were too much. Hal had a great and creative mind. When Jim reunited our friendship we spent many hours on the phone. It's good he's no longer in pain. Shoot some pool in Heaven with GW and Vicente old friend.

Hi Classmates,

Nice of Mardi to include me in those that help on the site, but not really accurate and don't want to take away from those that do, Mardi, Jim, and Bill. I really haven't done squat, but post a few goofy posts.

best to all, Hal

90th Bomber wing:
My dad was in that group. He was a bomber navigator. If you run into any of the old timers you might ask them if they knew a "Harold Hill". He had PTSD, but they didn't have a name for it then, he was just messed up like a lot of those guys. Also the military provided no dental care, so his teeth were a mess.

I remember asking him about the landing of the weather balloon/aliens. It was a small group sent out to look over the debris. He wasn't in the group, but he was on base. He said the whole contingent was brought together en masse or in smaller groups and they were told not to discuss anything they saw or heard with anyone. My dad said everyone just looked at each other blankly, because the great majority didn't even know a detail had been assigned, or about any "event", much less the particulars of what was or wasn't found.

Thanks Bill Leggett,
For the alien background. Good to give a nod to the folks who helped keep Roswell afloat financially. Real or surreal, the economic boost given to our town starting with the craze in the in the 70s--I don't remember anyone saying much about it as I grew up--provided a cottage industry that has been a boon to Roswell's commerce. Before the resurgence of the story I remember being in North Dakota. Asked where I was from I said New Mexico. "Well, you're very light complected for a Mexican" someone said to me. "Well, no, actually, 'New Mexico' s a state", I answered. Now, when I say I'm from Roswell, people never make such comments. They just want to know if I ever saw any aliens.

Glad you are here Marilyn! Hal

Just one more of these, one of the seemingly most inexplicable, then I'll desist, and stick to classmate matters, but this one always intrigued me and I rooted around for it a few years ago, for fun:
Why the heck would anyone stick a feather in their cap, and call it "macaroni"? This of course from the mainly revolutionary war ditty "Yankee Doodle Dandy". It was in intent a disparaging song sung by British regulars to denigrate the country bumpkins who made up the revolutionary army.
According to the song, this unsophisticated corn cob called Yankee Doodle shows up riding on a pony, he sticks a feather in his cap and calls it "macaroni". The "Macaronis" were a group, like the punks or rockers, that delighted in overdressing in England. They were "dandies" of questionable masculinity. At the time, macaroni, was a new find from Italy, an exotic dish favored by people of fashion and breeding. There were even what were called "macaroni" wigs being worn at the time.
The Doodle was such an unpolished colonist that he thought that simply by sticking a feather in his cap he distinguished himself as a dedicated follower of fashion, one of the elite. The British "Macaronis" favored the dish to display their worldly snobbery.
That's why a yokel like Doodle stuck the feather in his cap, and by doing so, thought he was the equal of his betters, the height of style, and a real "Macaroni".

New Year Coming,
Just to be clear, Bill Leggett (I had credited Bill Sloan here, just a brain glitch, sorry Bills) is the creative genius behind this effort online for all the work, through broken legs and jokes that are funny and always in good taste. Jim and Mardi do the work of getting people on here, answering the questions, and generally keeping the social side of the pages working. We are all lucky to have them on the job, and willing to take time to keep the connections with friends rolling--along with Margaret and lots of others. Jim has been one of my closest and most supportive friends for many years, and has a capacity for giving and helping others that is often beyond my comprehension. Bill's efforts speak for themselves, you see them every time you open this home page. Mardi is simply that soul mate I lost contact with since the first grade. They work together to allow all of us to remember what it means to be friends. Having spent lots of my adult life in Fresno, CA, I will celebrate the new year by crouching close to the ground as midnight approaches, and covering my head with a substantial kitchen pot. That's the Fresno way, and the the resolution is to avoid the stray bullets and see the New Year.
best to all, Hal

All this talk of cold weather reminds me of an old adage: "Cold enough to freeze the ball off a brass monkey." Lots of these sayings pass with changing times, naturally. It won't be long before "Can't hit the broad side of a barn will be followed by bewildered looks, and "What's a barn?" As for the brass monkey:
During the Civil--and other-wars--cannon balls were stacked and held in place next to the cannons by what was called a "monkey". It looked like a pool rack and allowed cannon balls to be stacked, pyramid style, for use in battle. The were made of brass. When the weather got cold enough the brass would contract, sending the cannon balls tumbling. So, cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey.

Happy Festivus!