Gloria Dwyer (Tucker)

I lived on Oak Street and all the kids played in his backyard.  If I timed it just right on days the weather wasn't good or I didn't want to walk to school, his mother usually offered a ride.  There was a road beside his yard and many games were played there as well as across from his yard was a large two story house that had a large family.  There was a building in their backyard and we held our 'club' meetings there.  I remember accidently hitting him over the head with a crocket mallet and his mother wasn't to happy with either of us.  He always knew when to go home from anywhere in the neighborhood, as his parents would blow a loud whistle and he took off running.  Fun memories.

Marjorie Wright (Stephans)

Ken and I became friends in Physiology class with Miss Dunlap.  We had a great time dissecting  cats and counting red blood cells.  We walked together at graduation--I almost didn't ask him because I was afraid he would turn me down.  Great memories.     Marjorie Wright Stephans

Philip Hengen

Ken and I went through school together from K-12.  We were also in cub scouts (see the picture that his sister Linda posted on this site), band, orchestra and on the swim team.

After HS our paths diverged.  I flunked out of college, he quit school and joined the navy but we would still hang out together* when both of us were in Wichita.  After graduating from WSU I moved to Cincinnati and (I learned later) he worked as an electronic technician on the Kitty Hawk aircraft carrier.  He got married, spent some time in Japan and brought home some nice stuff.

In the 1980's I was working in San Diego and he called out of the blue and told me that he was stationed there.  We got together with our wives several times and the four of us went fishin' together once.  After he retired from the navy we kept in touch a few time by letter.  I hadn't heard from him in a couple of years when Linda called to tell me he had died on the job at Boeing in Wichita.

*"hang out together" is polite talk for "got staggering drunk".

Gotta tell one story:

Ken was often a man of few words.  One night before my wife Lucille got to know him she was perplexed by his economical conversation.  She got me alone in the kitchen and said "He sure doesn't talk much.  Is he retarded?"  I said "I don't think so."   My wife loved to play scrabble so after coffee and dessert the board came out.  Ken cleaned our clocks, scoring over 300 points twice.  Still didn't say a lot.

I never told him about her first impression.  It changed.

Phil