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Mark Gray posted a message.
Mar
01
Mar 01, 2019 at 1:22 PM

John: Thank you for your service! Hope you can make it to the 50th Reunion next year!

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Mark Gray posted a message. New comment added.
Feb
15
Feb 15, 2019 at 8:07 PM

Posted on: Feb 15, 2019 at 8:09 AM

Bob: Thank you for your service to the country! I hope you can hop in your Jeep and make it to the class reunion for our 50th next year
You

Mark Gray posted a message.
Feb
14
Feb 14, 2019 at 7:46 PM

Diane: This is Mark Gray, a fellow '70 classmate. I live in Roswell! Hope you can make the 50th reunion in Jax Beach!

Mark Gray posted a message. New comment added.
Feb
13
Feb 13, 2019 at 2:58 PM

Posted on: Feb 13, 2019 at 8:55 AM

Len:

Thank you for your service to our country. You joined the military during a time when most of us were dodging the draft. Hope to shake your hand at the 50th reunion next year!

Mark Gray posted a message.
Feb 13, 2019 at 9:24 AM

As I rapidly approach 70 years of age, I find myself wanting to re-connect (or in many instances since I wasn't a very sociable guy in high school) or simply connect with many classmates for the first time, I am looking forward to attending the significant 50 year class reunion next year.

I challenge all Fletcher grads to contribute to this web page AND the upcoming 50th Class Reunion fund (you can do so by clicking on "Class Donations" on the left hand side of this page). Hope to see as many of you as I can next year!

Mark Gray posted a message.
Feb
06
Feb 06, 2019 at 11:04 AM

I am looking forward to attending the 50th reunion. QUESTIONS: Who will be the point of contact? Are there any plans to organize a "search" committee to track down as many of our classmates as we can to not only get them to join ClassMates but to invite them to the 50th?

Mark Gray posted a message.
Aug
15
Aug 15, 2018 at 8:28 AM

Happy Birthday Sandy!

Mark Gray posted a message.
Jun 05, 2018 at 8:41 AM

Next Class Reunion? I want to make sure I am at the next one. Is there a 'point person' who I should contact to make sure I know about the next reunion? Please let me know. markgray@MoverRecruiter.com

Mark Gray changed his profile picture.
May 15, 2018 at 8:12 AM
Mark Gray posted a message. New comment added.
Nov 17, 2017 at 7:16 PM

Posted on: Nov 16, 2017 at 3:22 PM

As we all get on in years I find myself wanting to re-connect. I was not the popular guy at Fletcher nor was I a "joiner" or athelete....As such, my good classmate friends were few. However, I would like to try to keep in touch and welcome any messages. My good friend Mike Ross apparently had a rough go of it years ago and sadly passed. Steve Jackson is alive and well and has a business in Jax. I've lost contact with Nathan Jones. Had some contact with former classmates while attending University of Florda....Married at age 21 but divorced only to marry a FSU girl in 1987 and have a wonderful relationship to this day (along with 4 great kids). Hope to see many of you at the next reunion which I plan to attend!

Mark Gray has left an In Memory comment for Mike Ross.
Nov 17, 2017 at 12:33 PM

RIP my good friend. 

Mark Gray added a photo to his profile gallery.
Nov 16, 2017 at 3:06 PM
Dec 21, 2016 at 3:19 PM

Happy Christmas...may you and your family have a wonderful Holiday...looking at your Senior picture makes me think of how young we all were and how beautiful you still are...WD

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Sandra Kemp Ramirez has left an In Memory comment for Tim Bradford.
Aug 01, 2016 at 8:33 AM

I didn't know him very well, think we had one class together, but I remember him as a very friendly boy. 

William (Bill) Drury posted a message. New comment added.
Jul 31, 2016 at 4:39 PM

Posted on: Dec 27, 2015 at 1:15 PM

In the sixth grade, I asked Brenda Ninno to go to the movies. Most of the Seabreeze Elementary's sixth grade would be at the Beaches Theatre on Saturday afternoon. The movie didn't matter. This date was public affirmation of what Brenda and the other sixth grade girls, as girls of this age are want to do, had previously decided; Brenda and I were going together. I cleared it with Jo. She agreed to drive and to pick up. After all, I was the man.

Jo waited in the car while I walked with a stomach full of butterflies to Brenda's front door. When it opened, the prettiest girl ever stood before me...wearing a bright blue skirt and a soft white blouse, her brown eyes sparkled beneath the medium blonde bangs of the page boy hair cut that framed her face. This girl was different from the girl that I talked to in school. My mouth went dry. Brenda, standing in a pool of heaven sent light, was all that I saw.

Without saying a word, she critically eyeballed me...creased navy blue slacks, button down the front cranberry short sleeve shirt and exactingly coiffed hair, no more than a quarter of an inch long except the butch wax coated bangs stood at attention like soldiers; the reflected sunlight gleamed straight into the eye of God. She smiled. I pleased her.

Her parents stood behind her. Her mother's right hand was on Brenda's shoulder. She wore a light flower patterned dress, her hair pulled back in a bow a la Donna Reed, smiled graciously between meticulously painted lips as she said, "Hello, Billy." Her father, a tall thin man whose enormous head was covered in well-oiled neatly combed hair the same color as Brenda's, did not smile. I again received a complete eyeballing. More critical of the young man that would be taking his daughter into a dark movie theater, it took another moment for him to remembered to smile and extend his hand. I stared at it for a moment. It was nice hand, big, clean, unscarred as are the hands of men who work in offices. Baffled as to why he was putting it out to me. Hearing something about what a pleasure it was to meet me, I was reminded to shake his hand. I never make eye contact with either parent.

Brenda, sensed my awkwardness, grabbed my hand, turned me around,tucked her hand under my elbow and marched me to the car. I blushed with embarrassment when they laughed after I said to Brenda, "Well, that wasn't so bad."

From the car, Jo traded pleasantries with Mr. and Mrs. Ninno, who stood holding hands on their stoop porch as I opened the back door of our station wagon, waited for Brenda to get in and shut the door. Then, I walked around to the other side of the car and got into the front seat. When I turned around to Brenda and saw the anguish on her face, I knew I was sitting in the wrong seat.