Paul was something else. I remember in his senior year his mother, who was the librarian at North Olmsted High, bought a 1964 Dodge Polara 500 sport coupe, fire engine red with a 426 hemi and a 4-speed Hurst, mainly for Paul. Reid Douglas told me how funny it was to see her putting along in it on her way to work, occasionally stalling it, but Paul was no slouch when he got behind the wheel.
I had just transferred from North Olmsted in my junior year so to my regret didn't get to know a lot of you very well, but Paul worked with me after school and on weekends at the Sloane Ave McDonald's in Lakewood when it iopened in late 1963 for our senior year. I think we were the only two River guys there. He had the one liners that kept us in stitches. After work his parting line was usually " Well, my mommy wants my body home about now". I can't believe he checked out early- he was one of a kind.
Paul and I lived on the same street, Endsley Avenue, and were playmates from the age of 3. We spent hours, days, weeks, and years together playing baseball in the street, basketball at this house (he was good), and board games endlessly on my back porch. His mom named their two dachsunds Moonoo and Tilly (which I think were the family names for poop and piss). (She always frightened me.) He had a great sense of humor. One of his key phrases when something happened that he liked was to raise his hands above his head to signal a made field goal, and say "Goooood"--a mannerism Skip Chandler mimicked all through high school.
Paul was a good friend when I attended Beach School. I lived on Wagar Road about a mile south of RRHS. I used to ride my bicycle to his house soaring down the Wagar Road incline north of Detroit Road. What a thrill ! He had a basketball hoop on his garage and we played for hours and then went to the street and threw the football around plus baseball during the summer months. Paul had no father and I do not know what the situation was. But, his Mom was tough as nails. I was not allowed inside the house when she was not at home. Therefore, I pea'd behind the garage or in the backyard bushes. Honest story. I was afraid of her like Bill was (smile). I also remember he could not leave his house to come to mine. Does anybody know about his adult life or how he passed ?
Paul's Dad was alive when I was little. We learned much later that both he and his Mom had trouble with the bottle. If I'm not mistaken, his Dad fell down the basement steps when drunk and was killed. Thereafter, wine bottles abounded in the weekly trash. Unfortunately, I think the bottle played a little too big a role in Paul's adult life as well. Regardless, Paul was a neat guy. (I've got a hilarious story about Paul that occurred at one of the early reuinions that I'll be glad to share with you sometime.)
William McCroden
Paul was something else. I remember in his senior year his mother, who was the librarian at North Olmsted High, bought a 1964 Dodge Polara 500 sport coupe, fire engine red with a 426 hemi and a 4-speed Hurst, mainly for Paul. Reid Douglas told me how funny it was to see her putting along in it on her way to work, occasionally stalling it, but Paul was no slouch when he got behind the wheel.
I had just transferred from North Olmsted in my junior year so to my regret didn't get to know a lot of you very well, but Paul worked with me after school and on weekends at the Sloane Ave McDonald's in Lakewood when it iopened in late 1963 for our senior year. I think we were the only two River guys there. He had the one liners that kept us in stitches. After work his parting line was usually " Well, my mommy wants my body home about now". I can't believe he checked out early- he was one of a kind.
William Walker
Paul and I lived on the same street, Endsley Avenue, and were playmates from the age of 3. We spent hours, days, weeks, and years together playing baseball in the street, basketball at this house (he was good), and board games endlessly on my back porch. His mom named their two dachsunds Moonoo and Tilly (which I think were the family names for poop and piss). (She always frightened me.) He had a great sense of humor. One of his key phrases when something happened that he liked was to raise his hands above his head to signal a made field goal, and say "Goooood"--a mannerism Skip Chandler mimicked all through high school.
Lowell Hinsdale
Paul was a good friend when I attended Beach School. I lived on Wagar Road about a mile south of RRHS. I used to ride my bicycle to his house soaring down the Wagar Road incline north of Detroit Road. What a thrill ! He had a basketball hoop on his garage and we played for hours and then went to the street and threw the football around plus baseball during the summer months. Paul had no father and I do not know what the situation was. But, his Mom was tough as nails. I was not allowed inside the house when she was not at home. Therefore, I pea'd behind the garage or in the backyard bushes. Honest story. I was afraid of her like Bill was (smile). I also remember he could not leave his house to come to mine. Does anybody know about his adult life or how he passed ?
God Bless Paul and Rest In Peace !!
William McCroden
Lowell, you could as Reid Douglas. He told me but I don't want to pass on the story secondhand.
Paul was a unique guy- wish I'd known him longer than just the two years in high school and at Sloane Avene McDonald's..
William Walker
Lowell,
Paul's Dad was alive when I was little. We learned much later that both he and his Mom had trouble with the bottle. If I'm not mistaken, his Dad fell down the basement steps when drunk and was killed. Thereafter, wine bottles abounded in the weekly trash. Unfortunately, I think the bottle played a little too big a role in Paul's adult life as well. Regardless, Paul was a neat guy. (I've got a hilarious story about Paul that occurred at one of the early reuinions that I'll be glad to share with you sometime.)