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<p>WILKES-BARRE &#8212; Time really does fly by.</p><p>Just ask the members of the Plymouth High School Class of 1959.</p><p>The class celebrated its 60th reunion this weekend with a mixer on Friday night and a reunion dinner/dance on Saturday night &#8212; both events were held at the Holiday Inn East Mountain.</p><p>About 40 attended the mixer and more than twice that were at the dinner-dance Saturday night. It was a weekend of laughing, some crying, and most of all, reminiscing.</p><p>I attended the Friday night mixer and I reconnected with a lot of people from my past &#8212; people like Paul Pointek, who grew up on the same street as me; Carol Mergo Samson, daughter of John &#8220;Snoggy&#8221; Mergo, legendary Plymouth football, basketball and baseball coach; Sam Cooper, whose mother was a close friend of my family&#8217;s, having attended many outings at the Cooper cottage at North Lake; Mary Ann Sterowski Mrugal, whose dad, Chet Sterowski, cut my hair and all my buddies when we were kids; and Joan Evan, widow of Coach Joe Evan, and Bonnie Dwyer, whose family once operated Dwyer&#8217;s Lunch on East Main Street. Joan and Bonnie are still as cute as ever.</p><p>So it was good to visit with these folks and others at the mixer. There was a lot of reminiscing about those halcyon days of Plymouth. We took a stroll down Main Street and remembered all those great places that are embedded in our memories &#8212; places the Class of 1959 knew very well.</p><p>So we went to Golden Quality for a CMP or a banana split. We stopped for a hot dog at Mergo&#8217;s and we smeared mustard on it &#8212; mustard that Steve Mergo mixed in a little beer, legend says. If it wasn&#8217;t a hot dog, we went to Joe&#8217;s Pizza and paid a buck for a small pie and a Coke.</p><p>On Friday night, the gang gathered at Walt&#8217;s Servette for a hoagie and some dancing to the music blaring from the jukebox. And maybe we went to a movie at the Shawnee Theater, where many sneaked up to the balcony for a kiss or two.</p><p>We talked about the stores along Main Street &#8212; Weil&#8217;s, Mitch Plessett&#8217;s, Rea &amp; Derick, Ben Franklin, Smolock&#8217;s, Al Wasley Jewelers, Hackers Market, Fainberg&#8217;s, Matus News, where we learned to shoot pool on Saturday afternoons.</p><p>And of course we talked about Plymouth High School and its beautiful campus, with winding sidewalks and tall shade trees. We talked about the connecting bridge to the junior high building and we talked about the teachers.</p><p>The memories were clear as can be. The stories, though often repeated, seemed funnier than ever.</p><p>One dealt with Snoggy Mergo. It was even funnier when told by his daughter, Carol.</p><p>&#8220;I heard my father once said that he was swimming across Harveys Lake, but he said he got tired and swam back,&#8221; Carol said.</p><p>That one never gets old. And it is often told with Coach Mergo&#8217;s famous pop quiz: How many bones are in the heart? True or false? Or his multiple choice: &#8220;The answer isn&#8217;t A, and it&#8217;s not B, and if you put down D, that means you&#8217;re dumb and don&#8217;t know.&#8221; I guess C was correct, right Coach?</p><p>Mickey Waligorski told us about his father who secured the rights to Mister Softee franchises in Pennsylvania and most of New York state. I still remember hearing Mister Softee&#8217;s music playing from blocks away, giving kids enough time to convince their parents to give them money for a treat.</p><p>Bill Millard is a member of the Class of 1959 &#8212; his father, Abner, taught us geometry. Mr. Millard, as we only knew him by, had a cure for classroom boredom. In the middle of winter &#8212; even on the coldest of days, if Mr. Millard detected his class was not paying attention, he would walk to the windows and open every one.</p><p>&#8220;Let&#8217;s change the air in here,&#8221; he would say as we all perked up from the sudden rush of freezing air.</p><p>Great memories all. Bonnie Dwyer and Joan Evan provided some more information:</p><p>&#8226; Of the 32 faculty members, 12 held master&#8217;s degrees.</p><p>&#8226; There was no cafeteria, so students walked home for lunch and back down &#8212; some insist it was uphill both ways.</p><p>&#8226; There were no snow days &#8212; classes would begin at 1 p.m., giving us time to shovel the sidewalks and walk through the snow drifts to arrive on time.</p><p>&#8226; The PHS Class of 1959 had 122 members &#8212; 40 are deceased and memorialized on a special board at the reunion.</p><p>&#8226; There were several yearbooks &#8212; the Shawnee Arrow &#8212; for members to look at and remember.</p><p>&#8220;How about when we had the Halloween parade and the store windows were painted with Halloween scenes?&#8221; one asked.</p><p>The class members smiled. They remembered. And they offered their thoughts.</p><p>That&#8217;s what&#8217;s so good about reunions &#8212; no matter what year you&#8217;re celebrating.</p><p>Because time really does fly by.</p><style>
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<div class="neCaption">Bill O&#8217;Boyle </div></div><div class="metaInfo"><photo0>https://www.timesleader.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/09/web1_Oboyle_Bill-2-.jpg</photo0><caption0>Bill O&#8217;Boyle </caption0><photoCredit0></photoCredit0></div><div class="neFile"><img class="neImage" src="https://www.timesleader.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/09/web1_PHS-Class-of-1959.jpg">
<div class="neCaption">The athletic teams as displayed at the Plymouth High School Class of 1959 60th reunion. </div></div><div class="metaInfo"><photo1>https://www.timesleader.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/09/web1_PHS-Class-of-1959.jpg</photo1><caption1>The athletic teams as displayed at the Plymouth High School Class of 1959 60th reunion. </caption1><photoCredit1>Bill O&#8217;Boyle | Times Leader </photoCredit1></div></div>
<div class="metaInfo"><bylineMeta><p>By Bill O&#8217;Boyle</p><p>boboyle@www.timesleader.com</p></bylineMeta></div><div class="metaInfo"><shirttailMeta><p>Reach Bill O&#8217;Boyle at 570-991-6118 or on Twitter @TLBillOBoyle, or email at boboyle@www.timesleader.com.</p></shirttailMeta></div>

Beyond the Byline: Celebrating the good old days 60 years later