Thomas Harkness

Leesville Lake, VA 24139

trharkness@msn.com

Following graduation from Wolfson, life was good for me and my family right up until February 22, 2008. No, actually, life was better than good, it was nearly perfect. First, I managed to stretch my carefree college days at FSU out to four and a half years. Oh sure there were some serious hormonal surges and decompressions, but I managed to work my way through them relatively unscathed and undiminished. However, when forced to leave the cocoon with a degree in American Studies (a.k.a. eclectic potpourri of classes) and no immediate career plans, I made the most logical decision I could and moved to the year-round playground and land of 24-hour fun, Lake Tahoe, CA. The plan was to play by day and work as a waiter in Harrah’s showroom by night for the summer, and then get back to grad school or begin a more traditional career by fall. Well summer water sports, tennis, and golf led to fall hiking and backpacking, which led to winter and spring skiing, and then I seemed to lose control of the recurring cycle for nearly four years. There was one short hiatus during that timeframe when I moved back to FL thinking I was ready to move forward, but I got cold feet when someone offered me a real job, and then relapsed. On a positive note, I met my future (and current) wife the second time at Lake Tahoe. I also had the good fortune to host Dave Nichols and his new bride Barb (Bostian) when they surprised me with a call while visiting in the mid 70s.

Linda (my bride to be) and I moved to Atlanta in the fall of 78, she says I asked her to marry me at my 10th high school reunion during the summer of 79, I went off to the AF’s officers training school and was commissioned in Nov 79, and we got married in San Jose, CA on 1 Dec 79. From there I had 5 assignments over a 20-year AF career, 4 as a personnel officer and 1 tour in missile operations (Dover, DE; Great Falls, MT (missile operations); Melbourne Beach, FL; Misawa, Japan; and Manassas, VA (Pentagon). We also raised our three beautiful children during that period. I retired from active duty 1 Sep 99 and have been a government contractor supporting AF Manpower & Personnel as a strategic planner and policy analyst since then. We’ll probably move back to FL someday, but Kristin’s death and the current economic climate have given us cause to pause and reflect on what’s important for us and our other children before making any major life changing decisions.

Thank you to all my classmates and friends who paid their respects at Kristin's funeral in Jax. just over a year ago. I look forward to seeing you and renewing old friendships under better circumstances at the reunion. Again, thank you for the physical support we felt by your presence, as well as the spiritual support we received from your thoughts and prayers.

"Seniors fine in '69"
Tom

For a kid who moved from Miami to Jax in the middle of the 10th grade, and who for the first nine months literally counted the minutes to his next trip "home" to Miami, Wolfson Senior High School turned out to be a far better place than he could ever have imagined. It took awhile to find my niche, but once I did, it was like night and day. Although I achieved the rank of Eagle Scout while still living in Miami, thanks in great part to my father’s guidance and encouragement, chances are my social life would have revolved around high school gang activities from that point on. Instead, my life at Wolfson revolved around Alpha Hi-Y, Key Club, Young Life, football, track, and the life-long friends I made through each of those activities.

High point: Leading the team on to the field in Miami as co-captain with Bob Hackney for the ’68 high school championship game -- I only wish the game had been played in the Orange Bowl.

Low point: Crying inconsolably while walking of the field after losing the ’68 championship game by one point (7-6) -- I’ve never been a very good loser.

The Good and the Bad at Wolfson High: Lasting memories include Mr. Geilen’s consistent good nature and upbeat attitude, which was counter-balanced by Mrs. Richardson’s old school teaching methods and odd habit of sticking out her tongue; cramming scores of kids into someone’s beautiful home to sing joyful songs and listen to Mel Olsen spread the Good News at Tuesday night Young Life meetings; getting loose (and sometimes lucky) at the Southside drive-in (how many speakers do you think they had to replace?); our gang’s last dinner hosted by Mrs. Hackney, which was followed by getting busted that rainy night with cases of beer in the trunk of our car in the parking garage of the Gulf Life Tower (thankfully, the officer let us go after listening to Hackney plead for his football scholarship and then making us dump all the beer in the dumpster); Thursday morning Young Life Campaigner meetings, followed by getting whacked by Mr. Meckley for being late to school; taking Coach Crook’s utility car (’57 Ford?) for a joy ride around the practice fields with Rouzie and Okun on a weekend afternoon, only to be caught red-handed by Monty himself; riding scared with the usual suspects (Calhoun, Copeland, Hackney?) with Bayer at the wheel during a furious car chase after we splashed a lemon off the windshield of an unsuspecting car going the opposite direction (we never thought he’d turn around to chase us, let alone catch us—actually, Tommy’s Dad handled it rather well—at least in front of us); late night cheeseburgers and fries at the Derby House (how did management ever put up with us? – I guess they didn’t on at least one occasion according to Chris Parker’s profile—sorry I missed that one); weekend afternoons on the beach at Ponte Vedra (thanks to our well-to-do or well-connected friends), followed by a root-beer float at the A&W on the way home; and finally the second and third loves of my life (I left my first love in Miami), and all the happiness, laughter, and tears that we blissfully and innocently shared.

Life was good, and it will be again, someday.