GREAT AUNT TET WAS GREAT by Mary McNinch and Valerie Halla
Mary and I decided to ask our cousins what they remember about one of our Grandpa Sanderson’s sisters who saw most of us 13 cousins grow up. We are writing about her today because we have overlooked her while we have covered many family members, neglecting to offer dear memories of her.
We asked several cousins to tell us what they recall about “Aunt Tet” and will include their thoughts along with our own recollections of her.
Cousins Bobby, Suanne, Blake and Jeff H. met recently at the Martin Mason Hotel in Deadwood, South Dakota on July 9, 2024 and had these memories of Tet:
Great Aunt Tet was a lifelong loving younger sister of her brother, Maynard Evan Sanderson. She was a true, dedicated professional business partner and manager of the Sanderson General Store in Murdo for much of the time her brother and later his son, Jeff Sanderson, owned the store. She resided in the second story apartment above the store.
The involvement and support of various family members was truly recognized and was highly appreciated in the Sanderson family.
She was born in Burgess, Iowa in 1890. The town was unofficially known as Smithtown in Sharon Township.
She was one of twelve children fathered by Frank Sanderson. His first wife was Ella Current Sanderson. Their first two children, Mabel and Eben, died of a highly contagious disease prior to the birth of Maynard Evan Sanderson in June 1886. Frank had four children by his second wife. He died tragically in 1918.
Aunt Tet never owned nor operated a motorized vehicle. She was thought to have been a teacher in her early years with two years of advanced schooling in Iowa. She never drank nor smoked nor swore. Our cousins that day during their mini-reunion remembered her to be very pleasant and professional.
When the out-of-town relatives visited South Dakota, they weren’t accustomed to the severe Great Plains direct sunlight, Aunt Tet was quick to assure them that we all knew where to find wide-brimmed hats to protect from sunburn. The SANDERSON cousins concluded that day that, “Our dermatologists are still smiling on their way to the bank.”
COUSIN ANDREA’S THOUGHTS:
Cousin Andrea emailed her recollections to me of Aunt Tet in June of this year. She wrote:
When I think back on Aunt Tet, I remember her making caramel apples for Halloween. She would hang them on a rope clothesline with clothespins, just off the kitchen and they looked delicious.
She loved sports and watched the games at Grandpa and Grandma’s house on Sunday afternoon. She would ride down to their house after church and have Sunday noon meal. Then she usually walked back home as she enjoyed the exercise uphill to her apartment on Main Street.
I don’t remember her being vocal about things, rather she was interested and thoughtful.
MY MEMORY OF AUNT TET:
During our summer visits to Murdo and living there for my 7-8th grade years in school, I remember seeing Aunt Tet in her apartment hallway going in and out of the bathroom because during those two years, we lived in the front apartment above Sanderson Store while she lived across in the back apartment. We shared the one bathroom. She kept to herself mostly. She seemed shy and of the personality where you didn’t speak until spoken to.
She was always at the store working or on a raised platform at a desk doing paperwork and it seemed quite dark and mysterious when I would see her there at the back of the old store, bent over heavy account books or maybe writing something.
She wore sensible print shirtwaist dresses with narrow belts, and practical heavy shoes, and she had short gray hair and old fashioned glasses. She wasn’t slim nor heavy but solidly built. She would smile at 12-13 year-old me and make pleasant small talk. My mom made extra dinner for her and I took it over to Aunt Tet- homemade chicken pot pie or ham and bean soup or fried chicken with mashed potatoes. Sometimes even pie, fantastic, scrumptious home baked fruit pies, or tapioca pudding.
My mom, named after Tet’s own mother, and everyone in our family and Murdo respected and liked her. One guy named Tuffy would come in for a banana or a snack from his shift at the auto museum. He had no teeth and ate soft foods, and he would tease her calling her an “old maid”. She would snap back, “ Old bachelor!” Or maybe she would shorten it to “old batch”. My Dad, who also worked at the store for two years, laughed at that.
AUNT TET WITH HER MOTHER, BROTHERS ANDSISTERS WITH TWO OF THEIR SPOUSES. TET IS SECOND FROM THE LEFT.
It was sad when Sanderson Store had to close. Aunt Tet decided to move back to her home town in Iowa to live near her relatives. She adored her brother Sandy who lived in Iowa. In 1971 my new husband and I honeymooned across country and stopped to stay with her overnight. She was a gracious kind person and took us the next morning to her sister’s, my Great Aunt Melitha’s house, for a large hot breakfast Iowa style. We drove off the next morning after our goodbyes and I wrote her letters for many years but never saw her again. She passed away in the later 1970’s close by to where she had been born.
VALERIE, HUSBAND KEN AND AUNT TET- WEARING A LIGHT ROBE- UNDER LOVELY OLD TREES IN A SMALL TOWN IN IOWA IN THE SUMMER1971.
MEMORIES FROM BILLY FRANCIS:
I worked with Aunt Tet for four summers in Sandersons Store. The first thing we did when we got to work was to discuss the baseball games we had listened to (Aunt Tet – Kansas City, Bill – St Louis Cardinals). She and I were huge baseball fans! Aunt Tet was also a fan of Murdo sports. She went to every basketball (home game) and most of the road games if she could get a ride.
She was the bookkeeper for grandpa Sanderson and later Uncle Jeff until he closed the store.
Aunt Tet took the last lunch hour because she didn’t want to miss the kids when they stopped off for their penny candy on their way back to school from lunch. She knew all of the kids by name!
Aunt Tet was my best friend. She was the first person I visited when I came home from college. I truly loved that lady!
Aunt Tet never married. She was an amazing part of our family and greatly loved by family and the people of Murdo.
A big thank you to all our cousins who contributed to memories of Great Aunt Tet. Let us know if you have anything to add, you who were fortunate to have known her.
I could understand Aunt Marti’s desire to know what happened to Holly and her mother, June. There were several crayon written pages with different made-up stories about dogs and kitties and several child-like drawings of houses with trees and billowing clouds. All of her pictures had a bright yellow sun shining down from the corner of the paper. Aunt Marti had grown to love the little girl she had never met and wanted to learn more about the family that had occupied this house so many years ago.
Aunt Marti did not have knowledge of the internet, and my guess was that it didn’t occurr to her that someone could do a search online and find out more about the family. I hoped there would be enough information in the lock box and chest to be able to do an adequate search to find out what happened to Holly and her mother. I didn’t have the first names of the grandparents, but I knew their last name was probably Reading since Holly’s mother was married to their son, and their last name was Reading. Holly said she was moving from the house. The date was 1923. Did the grandparents move, too? Aunt Marti had said the house had been vacant for 20 years prior to her purchasing it.
I kept digging through the papers and also found a photobook in the chest.
“Mr. B.. Oh my… where did you find that?” It was a handmade sock monkey.
*********************
“But Mommy, I don’t want to move. I don’t want to leave Grandpa and Nana. I love our house. Why do we have to go?”
Dear, sweet, Holly. This will be an exciting time for us.
I had just asked Aunt Marti if there was a reason, other than the 10 year age difference, that she and my mother had not been close.
“We will talk about all of that in good time,” Aunt Marti said. “But right now, I must tell you a few things concerning what will be taking place here this afternoon. My hope is that all of my nieces and nephews will be present at the meeting that Tara has been good enough to arrange. She was given some directions from my attorney. You will all be given a letter from me and you will be reading my will.”
“According to Tara, all of the cousins will be meeting here at 3:00 pm,” I offered.
“Perfect,” Aunt Marti said with a dramatic flash of her eyes. I had seen that same expression many times on my mother’s face. As if reading my mind, Aunt Marti continued. “Your mother was different from the rest of us and sometimes the things she said and did didn’t set well with me. As the eldest of 4 children, I always felt as though the other girls’ behavior was more or less my responsibility.”
“Speaking from my own experience of living with Mom, I said. “I can understand your comment. Mom’s behavior sometimes pushed the envelope.” (I was secretly amused by my mother’s outlandish ways, but I didn’t share that with my aunt.)
“I must leave you now,” Aunt Marti said as she rose from the chair and picked up the tray with the tea and muffins. “But before I go, I need to tell you that I left you this property. I do hope you will give staying here in Pleasant Run a lot of thought before you get the news formerly at the meeting today. This house has a story to tell, and I believe it will tell you all of its secrets.”
“I don’t know what to say, Aunt Marti. Why would you give me your house?” I was surprised, to say the least.
“It’s all in the letter,” she answered. “And you can say goodbye.”
By a Woman Who Is 74 and Still Looking for Her Glasses
I have reached that wonderful age when I can walk into a room with a clear purpose, stop in the middle of it, and stare at the walls as if they might provide a helpful hint.
I call it a senior moment.
Of course, when you’re 74, you can explain almost anything with a senior moment. Forget someone’s name? Senior moment. Lose your keys? Senior moment. Put the milk in the cupboard and the cereal in the refrigerator? That’s not confusion—that’s an innovative new breakfast system.
The trouble is, these moments are becoming a little too common.
When you’re 74 or a dog, when you snooze you don’t lose.
The other day, I spent ten minutes looking for my reading glasses. I checked the kitchen counter, the bathroom, the bedroom, and even the refrigerator, because apparently I was prepared to read the yogurt label. I finally found them right where they belonged—on top of my head.
Apparently, my glasses and I are playing hide-and-seek, and they have discovered the perfect hiding place: somewhere I can see them without actually seeing them.
Then there’s the matter of names. I can remember what I wore to a party thirty years ago, including the shoes that pinched, but I can’t remember the name of the person standing right in front of me. So I do what any resourceful senior would do. I call everybody “Honey.”
“Honey, it’s so good to see you!”
It works beautifully until two people named Honey show up, and then I have to start describing their hairstyles.
And let’s talk about why we go to the grocery store. I can make a perfectly good shopping list, take it with me, read it three times, and still come home without the one thing I went for. But I will have three bags of things I didn’t know I needed, including a seasonal cheese I bought because the package looked confident.
I may forget the bread, but I’ll remember the cookies. Priorities—and dessert is much harder to toast.
Technology hasn’t made things any easier. My phone has more buttons and features than I will ever understand. Sometimes I call someone by accident, and sometimes I can’t figure out how to hang up. I have ended calls by putting the phone down, pressing every button, and whispering, “Please stop.”
I’m beginning to think my phone has a mind of its own. Unfortunately, it seems to be the only one of us that remembers what it’s doing.
And don’t get me started on passwords. Every website wants a password with a capital letter, a number, a symbol, and apparently the name of my first-grade teacher, her blood type, and a small sacrifice. By the time I create one, I’ve forgotten it. So I click “Forgot Password” and start the whole adventure again.
At this rate, I’ll need a password just to remember my passwords—and a recovery question to explain why I’m standing in the kitchen.
But here’s what I’ve decided: senior moments aren’t all bad. They give us something to laugh about, stories to tell, and a good excuse when we do something a little silly. They also keep life interesting. Every day becomes a mystery, and sometimes the mystery is where you put the remote.
This is as good as it gets, honey.
Besides, there are advantages to getting older. I’ve earned the right to speak my mind, wear comfortable shoes, go to bed early, and not care one bit what people think about my hair. If my hair wants to stand up like a startled dandelion, that’s between it and the mirror.
And if I forget why I walked into a room, I just turn around and walk out. Sometimes I even remember what I wanted on the way back.
That’s a victory—and at my age, I’m willing to celebrate anything that doesn’t require finding my reading glasses first.
So, to all my fellow seniors, don’t be too hard on yourselves. We may occasionally forget a name, lose our keys, or tell the same story twice. But we’ve lived long enough to know that laughter is good medicine—and we might as well enjoy the ride, even if we occasionally miss the exit.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go into the kitchen.
I know there’s something I wanted in there.
I just hope it’s not my glasses. If it is, they’re probably on my head, judging me silently.
Until next time, keep smiling, keep laughing, and remember: growing older is mandatory, but growing up is entirely optional!
During my trip to Greece last week, I experienced ancient ruins, statues and stories of gods and goddesses who loomed over the country like ghosts on guard protecting and influencing their past history forever. This country I visited was a blueprint for the more modern history of our democratic country and its people. That was apparent in the presentations given by our knowledgeable tour guides.
As I walked the paths and stairways up from the tour bus parking lot, I saw the Acropolis and Parthenon rise up to the top of the hill like it was the zenith, the end of the hike calling to me to keep climbing, striving, going. It was mind bending.
Athens in the rainAcropolis and Parthenon at night
Greek history set an example to the fathers of the USA who had fought the Revolutionary War to be free from England. They copied Ancient Greece in that the people decided what government would do, not one monarch or ruler. Laws should apply equally to all citizens. Participation in Ancient Greek assemblies through voting was carried forth in our country in the Constitution, with no women voting, non landowners, noncitizens at first which changed later in our country but stayed in Greek government.
Cooking class in Crete
I went on guided tours to Athens, Crete and Santorini. The Tour Director took us to many different places. We visited ancient sites like the Acropolis and Parthenon and Knossos. We ate Greek food: moussaka, spanakopita, dolmades, baklava and Greek Salad, feta cheese, eggplant. I attended a Greek cooking class with a young chef who had us make many dishes including tzatziki, stuffed eggplant, spanakopita and orange infused cake. I was trying to say Greek phrases. I was ready to become Greek but the language
is difficult and some of their letters look like a geometric shape.
Car wash Greek style
Greece was captivating in a good way. It was Greek and to me it was fabulous.
SantoriniCar wash Greek styleCatamaran ride on the sea
A few weeks ago, I got a nice surprise in the mail. My sister-in-law, Liz Francis, sent me the Jones County Centennial cookbook (1905-2006). My hometown of Murdo is in Jones County, South Dakota. I read the book from cover to cover.
Thank you Liz
The neat thing about community cookbooks is the added color you get. This book had several comments from local people along with the many favorite recipes. Two of the remembrance of times gone by were from men who had worked for my dad. Paul Anderson and Gary Jorgensen. One was from my cousins, Andrea Miller Sheehan and Stephanie Miller Davis. The book was put together by Jody Lebeda and Dixie Warner.
Wonderful comments
Many of the names of contributors were of people I knew from Draper and Murdo. I couldn’t believe it since I moved from SD 50 years ago. It brought me back to my roots in Murdo.
I decided to try one of the recipes. I decided on the one called carmel-filled chocolate cookies. (I purposely left out the carmel part as I just wanted chocolate cookies.)
I ran into one problem. Can you tell how much flour? It’s always 2 cups, right?
They turned out to be delicious. I did add peanut butter chips.
I’m sure I’ll use this recipe again as well as trying new ones from this well put-together cookbook. There is even a recipe for puppy chow!
I’ll add another post when I try one of the other favorites. What’s for dinner?
How Seniors Can Avoid Scams: Protecting Your Money, Your Identity, and Your Peace of Mind Getting older comes with plenty of good things—more time for family, more freedom to enjoy life, and hopefully a little less rushing around. Unfortunately, it can also mean becoming a target for people who want to take advantage of your trust. Scammers have become incredibly creative. They may call, text, email, or even show up at your door. Some sound professional and convincing. Others create a sense of panic so you don’t have time to think. The good news? A few simple habits can make a big difference. Remember: You Don’t Have to Decide Right Away One of the biggest tools scammers use is urgency. “Your account will be closed today.” “Your computer has a virus.” “Your grandson is in trouble and needs money.” “Your payment is overdue.” Stop. Take a breath. You don’t have to make a decision just because someone tells you that you do. A legitimate bank, government agency, or business will generally give you a way to verify what is happening. Hang up and contact the organization yourself using a phone number from an official statement, card, or website—not a number the caller gives you. Be Careful With Unexpected Phone Calls If someone calls asking for your Social Security number, bank information, passwords, or credit card number, be suspicious. Even if the caller knows your name or some personal information, that doesn’t mean they’re legitimate. When in doubt, hang up. You can always call the company back using a trusted phone number. Don’t Click Just Because You Recognize the Name Scammers can make emails and text messages look as though they came from your bank, a delivery company, a government agency, or someone you know. Before clicking a link, ask yourself: Was I expecting this message? Is it asking for money or personal information? Is it creating fear or urgency? Does the email address or phone number look unusual? When you’re unsure, don’t click. Go directly to the company’s official website or call them using a number you already trust. Your Passwords Are Valuable Think of your passwords like keys to your house. Don’t use the same password for everything. Use strong, unique passwords whenever possible, and consider using a password manager to keep track of them. Turn on two-factor authentication for your email, banking, and other important accounts. It adds another layer of protection if someone gets your password. And never give your password or verification code to someone who calls you unexpectedly. Watch Out for the “Family Emergency” Scam One particularly emotional scam involves someone pretending to be a child, grandchild, or other family member. They may say they’re in jail, have been in an accident, or urgently need money. Before sending anything, call the family member directly or contact another relative who can verify the story. Don’t let fear make the decision for you. Never Be Embarrassed to Ask for Help Scammers count on people being embarrassed to admit they may have been fooled. There is nothing embarrassing about being targeted by a professional scammer. These people do this for a living, and they know exactly how to create pressure and confusion. If something doesn’t feel right, ask a trusted family member or friend to take a look. Two sets of eyes are often better than one. A Simple Rule to Remember Here’s a rule worth keeping next to your phone: STOP. DON’T RUSH. VERIFY. If someone wants your money, personal information, gift cards, cryptocurrency, or access to your computer, stop before doing anything. If they tell you to keep the situation secret, that’s another major warning sign. Protect Your Peace of Mind Avoiding scams isn’t about becoming suspicious of everyone. It’s about becoming comfortable with saying: “Let me think about it.” You don’t owe anyone an immediate answer. Your money is yours. Your personal information is yours. And your peace of mind is worth protecting. The next time an unexpected call, email, or text makes you feel worried or rushed, remember: a few minutes of caution can save you a lot of money—and a lot of heartache. And if you’re ever unsure, ask someone you trust before you act.
Kip and I were victims of a scammer several years ago. It cost us $2000.00Even guard dogs like ours don’t necessarily take the place of a security system.
So, apparently, I’m 70-ish. I say ish because somehow that makes it sound a little less official. There’s something funny about turning 70. You still feel like yourself on the inside, but every now and then you catch your reflection and think, Who is that older woman? Then you remember… oh yeah. Me. Being 70-ish is an interesting place to be.
Me at 60 and 80 (I’m now 74)
You’ve lived long enough to know that life rarely goes exactly as planned. You’ve experienced the highs, survived the lows, made mistakes, learned lessons, lost people you loved, and collected memories you wouldn’t trade for anything. And hopefully, somewhere along the way, you’ve learned that you don’t have to have everything figured out. At this age, I care a lot less about what people think of me. I’m not interested in impressing anyone. I’d rather be comfortable than fashionable, happy than right, and surrounded by people who make me laugh than people who make me feel like I have something to prove. I’ve also discovered that “going out” has changed meaning. Once upon a time, going out meant dinner, drinks, dancing and staying up way too late. Now, going out can mean dinner at 5:00, home before dark, pajamas by 8:00 and being absolutely thrilled about it. And honestly? That sounds pretty good to me. There are things about getting older that nobody warns you about. Your body develops opinions of its own. You can hurt yourself sleeping. You forget why you walked into a room. And you can spend ten minutes looking for your glasses only to discover they’re on your head. But there are also wonderful things about being 70-ish. You know who you are. You know what matters. You know which battles aren’t worth fighting. You appreciate a good laugh, a beautiful sunset, a phone call from someone you love and a day when nothing hurts. You stop taking ordinary moments for granted. And maybe that’s the greatest gift of getting older: realizing that ordinary is actually pretty extraordinary. At 70-ish, I still have dreams. I still have things I want to see, places I want to go, people I want to love, stories I want to tell and memories I haven’t made yet. I’m not interested in acting my age. I’m interested in living my age. There may be a few more wrinkles, a few more aches and a whole lot more life experience, but I’m still here. Still laughing. Still learning. Still loving. Still becoming. And if 70-ish has taught me anything, it’s this: Getting older isn’t about counting the years you’ve lost. It’s about making the years you have left count. So here’s to being 70-ish. We’re not old. We’re experienced. And we’re just getting started.
AI is wonderful!The real me last month with husband, Kip, daughter Heidi and husband, Joe and friends Janice and Ray
Lots of memories, feelings, happy thoughts and good stories come to me and my SANDERSON family when anyone mentions the Star Cafe on old Highway 16 in Murdo. I recently got to go there with a guy named Ralph after the School Reunion had wound down and we were all losing the ebb and flow of a high tide of emotions after people left the reunion festivities to go back to their homes around the country. The Star brought back the past.
In the 1960’s I went with my Mom, Aunt Loretta and Aunt Elna who were all taking their adorable petite Mom – my Grandma Sanderson – out for pie and coffee at Cafe 16. It was like being asked to attend the Battle of the Chefs 2026 in Malaysia with an afterparty for all the great food experts, except this was just pie and coffee at the most expensive and popular restaurant in all of Murdo, South Dakota. We all thought it was a special place to eat even though Mack’s was numero uno with delicious downhome food like ham and beans or hot beef sandwiches. Their gigantic homemade cinnamon rolls were to die for.
I felt included as a young 13 year old going out with my adult aunts, Grandmother and my Mom. I was special, worthy and old enough to be asked for that big people outing. But the best most loving part was seeing how Grandma Sanderson laughed as three of her four daughters joked around with her and made her giggle like a young girl. My aunts and Mom also gossiped freely, which was what you did in a small town back then. Grandma ate it up – the gossip – along with enjoying her cherry pie and coffee, which for a change she didn’t have to bake. You see, Grandma always loved lording it over on Grandpa that she knew new gossip before he did. What a day. I’ll never forget it.
Then fast forward to another trip to Murdo when we had moved to California and Mom and I visited there. Mom always had new dresses and shoes on these trips and looked all stylish that day.
Uncle Jeff took us to Cafe 16 for lunch because we were special. We walked through all the tables crowded with tourists and sat in an AC cooled back table. A young waitress served water which she promptly spilled down the back of my Mom’s lovely new summer frock. After apologizing and cleanup, we went on with our food orders, chatting and enjoying another great meet up with family.
So that’s why when Ralph set up a meeting at the Star Cafe with four seniors from Murdo on a bittersweet day in July of this year, the same day I was flying home, I jumped at the chance to attend. We talked about, what else, the good old days and funny stories they recalled. Ralph wrote it down old school style because he wanted to hear Sammy Seymour and his wife Marilyn tell about Ralph’s brother Paul and about some homeless guy and many other characters he had known. It was entertaining and brought to mind what this cafe had meant to me and my family and my past.
Part 2, Cafe 16, by Mary Francis McNinch
When I was growing up in Murdo, SD, Cafe 16 was the place to go if you were looking for the best atmosphere. It mostly catered to the thousands of tourists who traveled through Murdo each summer. Murdo was a good place to spend the night if you were traveling to the badlands and the Black Hills.
At that time, Highway 16 went right by Cafe 16. This was before Interstate 90 was built. Most of the motels sat along Highway 16, too.
Many Murdo girls put themselves through college by working at the Cafe summers during their high school and college years. Those waitressing jobs were coveted because the tips were fantastic! It was a hard job, but more than worth putting in the work.
I never applied for a job there because my parents had a motel along Highway 16 and I always worked there.
Cafe 16 became the Star Cafe sometime after the Interstate was built which went around Murdo. The tourist trade was still good because there were two exits into and out of Murdo.
Yes Cafe 16/The Star Cafe was an iconic place in Murdo. It still operates there today.
Everywhere I went in Murdo the week I was there was a backward glance into my past, a lovely flood of memories and joy. It didn’t matter that I was a Murdo High School graduate imposter. It was all good.
These 2 guys, Uncle Wayne Sanderson and Uncle Jeff Sanderson would vouch for me.My dog, Ellie will vouch for me.
I had a marvelous childhood divided between growing up in the suburbs of Pittsburgh, PA and summers every other year in Murdo where I loved being with my cousins and getting to know Grandma and Grandpa Sanderson. Then there were the Aunts and Uncles who were hardworking and had great houses where I could visit. Aunt Helen, my Mother’s sister, and Uncle Bob would usually meet up in Murdo from their home in Michigan with their four kids to get us all together for a reunion. It was a happy time. Most Sanderson’s lived in Murdo though.
These upstanding citizens will confirm my attendance of the Murdo, SD school system. Mark Sanderson, Dave McDonald (I feel sure he’ll put in s good word for me.) Suzanne Bork Brost.
Then after my Dad lost his job at a machine shop outside Pittsburgh, we moved back to Murdo, having lived there when I was born. Dad went back to work at Sanderson’s Store. I was in heaven being able to walk all over town and play with most of my cousins and their friends or their cousins not on the Sanderson’s side, like the Bork’s, but this all came crashing down when we had to leave again because Sanderson’s Store was closing in the early 1960’s. It was a sad time for me because I was all primed to start my high school career with the junior high class I had come to know. Shock hit me like a California earthquake.
Mick Penticoff in blue shirt, Ralph Thomas in orange shirt.
So when I go to these school reunions, I’m the imposter since I didn’t graduate from high school there but I do have a history in Murdo and loads of good memories. I was fortunate to be able to crash the festivities during this time with cousins Billy and Mary and Uncle Gus Gustafson later. I went to one reunion by myself but met up with Billy. Then we hung out late one night at the Buffalo Bar with Suzanne Brost, and Joe and Ralph Thomas. We told jokes while we drank. Fun doesn’t do it justice. I told my cousin Billy that I drank wine now that I was retired. He thought that was a lame yet funny excuse to drink.
Jim Anderson, Suzanne Brost, me, Ralph and Paul Thomas.
This 2026 Murdo Reunion was the best. I am getting pretty adept at being the imposter graduate. What class was I in? Class of 1967 of course, Anaheim, California. Ralph Thomas in all his wisdom, kindness and honesty sent this form to the committee that plans these things:
