Dance Recital Roster

There was more to the "Spotlight On Youth" program. Here are the other three pages. If you click on each thumbnail, it should be larger and therefore, more readable. Just in case, I decided to list the names of all of the people who were in this particular recital. Are you one of them? Do you know any of the folks listed?? If so, let me know!

Angela Holomes
Angela Lomont
Ann Menefee
Barbara Dixon
Bettina Beard
Bonnie Bectol
Bonnie Sherbon
Chris White
Connie Mitchell
Dawn Carboni
Dawn Rhoads
Debbie Lenniger
Dede Pittinger
Georgeanna Stuck
Heidi Lawrence
Heidi Schmitt
Jackie Snyder
Jane Prichard
Jill Ann Shaw
Jo Lynn Shaw
Julie Hacka
Karen Summers
Kathy Dixon
Kathy Johnson
Kelly Smith
Kim Booker
Kim Elam
Kim Gottfried
Kim Shroyer
Kim Underwood
Kim Vodde
Kristina Frazier
Leslie Cook
Lisa Booker
Lisa Carr
Lisa Knight
Lisa Russell
Lori Young
Machell Crist
Marsha Eckert
Maureen Moran
Meg Gottfried
Micca O'Connor
Michelle Cook
Michelle Wiedmann
Mike Burry
Mindi Salyer
Monica Quinn
Nancy Leullen
Patty Olson
Reed Oscott
Robert Oscott
Ronda Johnson
Rose Salyer
Sally Vodde
Sandy Pressler
Sheri Crist
Sheri Knight
Susan Gardner
Susan Huntley
Susan Mitchell
Tammy Browne
Tammy Perkins
Teresa Mitchell
Tina Le Compete
Toni Eckert
Tracie Pattee
Tracie Stabler
Tricia Elam
Tricia Zuber
Vicki Olson
Vicki Smith

Spotlight On Youth

On May 17, 1973 (my parent's 7th wedding anniversary), I performed for my very first time in front of an audience in a dance recital held at South Side High School.

I don't remember being nervous. I do remember loving all of the fun costumes that I got to wear. The stage seemed enormous - I've never been back to South Side since so I don't know if I was comparing it to the stage at Indian Village Elementary (and that was small in comparison) or if South Side's was really humungous!

That's me - girl on the end (all the way to the far right). You'll notice that what I'm doing seems to be just a tad bit different from the other two girls. My grandma swears up and down (even to this day) that I was doing the routine perfectly and the other two girls were missing their moves. Dontcha just love grandma's?!

In this picture, I am almost in the middle (count four over from the right). I seem to be doing pretty much was everyone else is but NOTICE the swinging arms and the amount of space between me and each girl beside me :). Is it my imagination OR are those other girls lookin' at me?! Was I doing something special or were they watching a freak show in motion? I guess we will never know....

I am not in this picture.

Nor in this one.

But you see, these four pictures, along with the program, are the only physical/tangible things I have left from my Marlene's Dance Studio days.

My red hair bow, my red tutu, and the red/white striped outfit, and my tap shoes you see in the first and second picture - I packed those very carefully into a box that I kept with me at almost all times. When we had to pick up and move to yet another house or another school in the later years, it was part of the stuff that I kept close to me - like my identity box.

Whenever I felt lost or insignificant or sad - I would look at the stuff in my box and be reminded that I was someone who mattered and despite what was going on around me, everything would get better. That was the hope that I needed to hold on to in order to get through that day or night or week or month.

When I was 17, my box disappeared forever and as silly as it may sound, it's something that still makes me sad. It's just "stuff" - I know...the symbolism of its existence though - reinforced so many things for me and without it, well...I'm not even sure what to say. It may be the reason why I started this blog about a year ago. Maybe this is my new identity box...

Marlene's Dance Studio

Marlene's Dance Studio
Originally uploaded by kristinafh

There were many reasons why I loved living and growing up on the south side of Fort Wayne.

Things were not so (I'm looking for the right word)...'corporate' and 'big'.

There were many small business owners not only for retail but also for services. I don't know if my parents consciously patronized small business owners, but it seemed like we did a lot of that thing back in my childhood.

One of my stories from last month (http://childofthefort.blogspot.com/2008/10/imagination-can-alter-life.html) explained how me, my sister, and my friend Erika, became interested in stuff like tap and gymnastics.

And sometime in 1972, we began lessons over at Marlene's Dance Studio.

Who was Marlene?

I didn't really know back then. When I started to look into writing this blog entry, I became curious and I looked through a lot of stuff, trying to piece things together.

Unfortunately, it was her obituary that gave me the most background information about her. Marlene Huntley died in March 2002 at the age of 63. She was originally from Bay City, Michigan and had worked at Hall's on Bluffton Road as a waitress for several years.

I don't know if she had a professional dance background or how she decided to open up her own dance studio. I also don't know when her studio shut down or how her life played out (with the exception of what the obituary told me). I guess yet another mystery that will go unanswered...

Marlene's dance studio was located - get this - on West Dewald Street.

West Dewald is perhaps - not the hot, happenin' area that it once was, but back then, the neighborhood was clean, safe, and full of kids who rode their bikes and played kickball and dodgeball in the street. I haven't been back in that area for over 30 years - I wonder what it's like today???

Marlene didn't have a fancy dance studio. Nope. She used her house for lessons. It looked like the area that would have been her living room was completely ripped up/redone to look like a dance studio. There were hardwood floors, a mirror that stretched from ceiling to floor and covered an entire wall. There was one of those ballet bars fastened to the wall where the mirror was. She had tons of vinyl and one giant/loud record player that was quite awesome to six/seven year olds...

Note: Thanks to Scott Howard for locating Marlene's house on google street maps....it barely resembles the place I used to visit 2 times a week.



My mother signed me and Patty up for tap and acrobatics (aka gymnastics). Tap was my thing. Gymnastics - not so much. I think it was because I was tall and lanky and not very bendy :).

After school, my mom used to make the three of us (me, Patty, Erika), practices our new hobby on our enclosed front porch. During the winter time, it was really cold so we would start out with our winter coats on.

I think if anyone would have seen Erika doing a back bend with her big old parka coat on, they would have had a giggle. She was challenged with the hood (always) and we had quite a debate on whether the hood (with the furry stuff on the outside of it) should be up or down. Down guaranteed major repercussions including accidentally smacking yourself in the head (with the hood) on the way back up from the back bend or with it up, you risked major static cling (thanks to the Indiana winters - dry dry dry climate).

I guess if my parents would have just heated the area - this would have taken away the whole parka dilemma :).

We knew that when it was time for Gilligan's Island, we were done practicing on the front porch and we could come in to watch Marianne, Ginger, and the Professor.

ALLEN COUNTY MOTORS ON WEST JEFFERSON STREET

ALLEN COUNTY MOTORS ON WEST JEFFERSON STREET
Originally uploaded by kristinafh

I started looking again through the ACPL Contentdm again and ran across this picture of Allen County Motors. It doesn't have a date on it, but it look very 70'ish to me.

Here's another picture of the same spot - now vacated by the car dealer. I took it in July 2008 as I was driving out of town.

My husband (then boyfriend) purchased his first car from this place in 1988. It was a Ford Escort - grey. I think - actually - it was a 1988 1/2 - which was weird but that's how Ford labeled it.

Oh - and he had a car before the Ford Escort but it was inherited from his dad SO you know - it was a big deal making this particular purchase on his own. If I remember correctly, it cost him about $7800.

How A Toddler Can Push A Teenager's Buttons

A love for vinyl
Originally uploaded by kristinafh

People have asked me, "what are some of your first memories"? And I'm pretty good at recalling very detailed points in times in my life - even back to toddler and pre-school ages.

But you know, not when I was 1 or 2 years old. That stuff, I rely on from my family.

The one story that has been told to me from the beginning of time is the one that involves me terrorizing my Aunt Barb.

When I was born, she was still in high school - in fact - I think she was a freshman in high school. Until I arrived, she was "the baby" of the family. And then here I came - and I turned her world inside out :).

This picture is of me - looks like oh - 18 months? - in her bedroom on 808 Clay Street. What am I doing? I'm pointing at her albums. Most likely, albums that contained music by The Beatles as she was keenly obsessed with the young men from the UK.

The story is, when she came home from school, and I would hear her start to come up the stairs (or when I would peer out the window and see her entering the building), I would run to her room and start grabbing for her records.

This, of course, would cause a great reaction on her part. I hear that she used to chase me around the apartment in order to retrieve her beloved collection.

I never knew if I broke any of her 45's or 33's (gosh I hope not), but obviously, I had an ornery streak in me from a very early age :).

And yes - that streak - it's still alive and kicking.

Franklin Delano Frazier

Frank D Frazier
Originally uploaded by kristinafh

This is my dad. My very YOUNG dad - like when he was maybe 20 or 21. It's an interesting photograph for a couple of reasons.

First, it was taken on the porch area of an apartment building in Fort Wayne which no longer exists (808 Clay Street). I think next time I'm in town, I'll want to look down Clay and see if I can capture the same scene (and showing how instead of a building - there's just a parking lot there).

Second, my dad is dressed in something other than jeans and a t-shirt. Now mind you - I've got lots to say about what he's wearing. I question the coordination of the colors and I wonder if high-waters were "in" back then or if it was just a case of him wearing what was handed down to him. I'm thinking the latter is the case.

How come?

Straight Creek, Kentucky. Lived in a five room little shack. Ten kids. Coal miner father. Mom who grew most of their food in the hills of KY. So yes, hand me downs - that was probably the case here.

I think he looks incredibly handsome. Not like in a Brad Pitt way though. It's hard to explain. When I look at this picture - his smile reminds me of how charming he could be. When my dad was sober and around, he was a really neat person. So - this picture - I think - it's like a snapshot of a good memory of him...

So....switching gears a bit....

My relationship with my dad has been non-existent for about 16 years now.

WOW! I didn't realize it was that long until I typed it out.

Generally, I am the type of person not to hold grudges and so if any one of my friends told me that they didn't have a relationship with their father, I would probably encourage them to stop that nonsense and reach out to them asap. After all, life is incredibly short and so many people end up regretting so much after it's way too late.

My situation is a little different.

My dad is remarried and his wife has a strong hatred for me. He won't go against her wishes and thus we are where we are today.

Over time, I have learned to compartmentalize the fact that there is a lack of a relationship but unfortunately, twice a year (Father's Day and Christmas), it sneaks up on me and the old wounds rear their ugly head.

Christmas - well - that's his birthday. And you know - that's just right around the corner...

Big Shoes to Fill

Big Shoes to Fill
Originally uploaded by kristinafh

I've been spending some time this weekend, going through really old photographs, scanning them in, uploading them to flickr, and of course - trying to make some sense out of them.

At first glance, I noticed, that this was a picture of me. After I had scanned it in and was looking to tag it, I really looked at it for the very first time.

I am in my Grandma and Grandpa's apartment - which no longer exists. 808 Clay Street, Fort Wayne, Indiana. My grandparents managed the apartments for some guy named Clyde Briggs and they lived there for about ten years.

When I was born, my parents moved into an apartment down the hall. I was the first grandchild and I spent a considerable amount of time with my grandparents.

Looking at the things that surround me in this picture, I am either in their bedroom or a spare bedroom. It's obvious that I'm gotten into stuff that belongs to others. I see mail on the floor. A book.

But what am I doing?

I'm putting on my grandpa's work shoes. They were black and had stiff laces. It's what he wore when he worked at the Fort Wayne Box Company.

I look at this picture and I laugh.

I don't remember it at all.

How conservative of me to just take my one shoe off and try his one shoe on. I always thought I was a throw caution to the wind kind of chick which would mean disposing of both shoes at the same time.

But still, I didn't know how to tie shoe laces back then. I slipped one shoe off (still tied tightly). Probably easier to explain just one shoe "coming off" then both shoes being off.

I do ramble on....but as I'm labeling this picture with things like 808 Clay Street, Apartment Building, Demolished, Grandparents Place, 1969, and Fort Wayne Indiana...I'm reminded that today would have been my grandpa's 87 birthday.

I'm usually very sad about these things but today - not as much as I have been in the past.

It's pictures like this that remind me...I was very fortunate to have a grandfather who loved me unconditionally...who taught me some of the best life lessons I've ever known...and who always knew that I was a little left of center...and to him...that was okay.