Mike Zygmunt

Mike was truly a gentle giant, a benevolent soul, displaying not a hint of arrogance even though his athletic prowess was deserving of a bit of self-importance.  I recall football coaches encouraging Mike to be more aggressive, mean, but it just wasn't in his nature, Mike was preordained to be a nice guy, possessing an easy smile, disarming countenance.

It saddens me to read from a previous post Mike went through some difficult times but it is safe to say we all do at some point. One thing I know for certain however Mr. Humphrey faced adversity with selfless courage, made those around him at ease, bringing joy and laughter to loved ones and friends.

Rest in peace Mike.

A number of posts in Chuck's memory describe him as a "good guy".  That might seem a simple description on it's face but as one grows older we begin to comprehend just how honorable that title is.  Chuck Chenoweth is a good guy.

I recall back in my Memorial football days I was in Coach Eddy's dog house and was placed on the dreaded "Dummy O", translation you ran the offense of your next opponent against the first string defense.

It was a motley crew of non starters but I found out all possessing huge hearts.  I was designated running back, Lance Mawdsley was QB, Chuck and Phil Hunter our wide receivers along with a supporting cast of severely undersized offensive lineman.  I gazed around the huddle and thought for sure I was dead.  To my surprise it turned out quite differently.

I was not happy with my demotion and knew I was going to put up a fight but it was all the other guys in that group that showed what they were made of that day including Chuck.  What took place for the next 45 minutes was one of my most cherished football memories.  We not only held our own, I would say we won.

One particuliar play stands out, Lance called an improvised pitch pass.  He would toss the ball to me as if we were running a sweep but I would stop and throw a deep ball to Chuck Chenoweth who was running a long post.  I wasn't a big believer in that play call considering Chuck was lined up against Frank Jones, probably the best defensive back in Memorial football history, but to this day I can still recall Chuck running like a deer, his long strides maintaining a small advantage over Frank.  

I heaved the ball as far as I could just prior to being slammed to the ground by a highly frustrated defense. I thought I had overthrown the pass but Chuck kept running and when the football was within reach he plucked the ball out of the air and scored.

Chuck made it look so easy and when he got back to the huddle he wore this slight, Chuck Chenoweth, good guy smile.  Rest in peace...

I did not know Chris well other than sharing an English class at Tulsa Memorial but I can speak to his athletic prowess as a former member of the perrenial second place Carnegie Colts baseball team.  Thank you Salk Sonics.

Normally in little league play you have a 50 50 chance of reaching first base simply by not swinging the bat either by way of walk or being plunked in the back with the ball.  But this was not the case with Chris Anderson, far from it.

Chris was a pitching machine sent from the Greek Gods to wreak havoc on all youth who sought baseball stardom.  A tall figure even back then his delivery was otherwordly mechanical and when the ball left his hand a low flying missile was launched that crossed the plate knee high ending in a loud thud in the waiting catcher's glove followed by the inevitable call strike.

Our strategy was to choke up on the bat halfway and swing before the fireball was released from his grip. The majority of the time this proved fruitless but occasionally by some miracle a lucky teammate would have the fortuitous happenstance of fouling a pitch back into the chain link fence. Just this simple feat would illicit the Colt team to erupt in cheer.

In retrospect I wish I had gotten to know Chris better, apparently he possessed all the admirable qualities I sensed he did based on all the loving posts in his honor.

It is incredibly sad to see another Tulsa Memorial classmate pass, a reminder just how precious, short life is. I hope 2021 is a wonderful year for all Chargers, let us count our blessings, take nothing for granted.  

Rest in peace Chris.
 

I did not know Chris well other than sharing an English class at Tulsa Memorial but I can speak to his athletic prowess as a former member of the perennial second place Carnegie Colts baseball team.  Thank you Salk Sonics.

Normally in little league play you have a 50 50 chance of reaching first base simply by not swinging the bat either by way of walk or being plunked in the back with the ball.  But this was not the case with Chris Anderson, far from it.

Chris was a pitching machine sent from the Greek Gods to wreak havoc on all youth who sought baseball stardom.  A tall figure even back then his delivery was mesmerizing yet oddly mechanical and when the ball left his hand a low flying missile was launched that crossed the plate knee high ending in a loud thud as it greeted the catcher's glove followed by the inevitable call strike.

Our strategy was to choke up on the bat halfway and swing before the fireball was released from his grip. The majority of time this proved fruitless but occasionally by some miracle a lucky teammate would have the fortuitous happenstance of fouling a pitch back into the chain link fence. Just this simple feat would illicit the Colt team to erupt in cheer.

In retrospect I wish I had gotten to know Chris better, apparently he possessed all the admirable qualities I sensed he did based on all the loving posts in his honor.

It is incredibly sad to see another Tulsa Memorial classmate pass, a reminder just how precious, short life is. I hope 2021 is a wonderful year for all Chargers, let us count our blessings, take nothing for granted.  

Rest in peace Chris.
 

Steve was indeed a very kind soul who I had the pleasure of knowing since elementary school.  Infectious smile, a very good way of putting it, and a memorable laugh that went with it.  His outlook on life was unique, as if he knew something the rest of us didn't, finding humor and joy in so many things which made Steve a lot of fun to be around. 

Steve also had an unpredictable streak about him. I recall one evening Steve pulling up in front of my home (Memorial days) as I was cutting the yard, Mr. Mindeman resided down the street.  He yanked out what I remember to be a seven iron from the depths of his trunk, teed up a few golf balls and proceeded to smack them high into the air raining down on the homes below.  A beautiful swing.  It was all a bit surreal, but Steve was having a tremendous time. 

His generosity was also very evident.  Steve dropped by one afternoon unannounced with tickets to Supertramp and invited me to go.  We had great fun, extremely enthusiastic, so much so I remember the girls in front of us turning around laughing at our crazy gyrations to the music. 

My fondest memory of Steve has to be when he introduced me to Jimi Hendrix in ninth grade.  The Star Spangled Banner at extremely high volume.  I have never seen anyone play the air guitar with so much passion as Steve Mindeman.  Well, with the possible exception of Jim Lind who played a mighty mean air bass guitar to Rolling Stones songs at Good Gulf.

I feel so fortunate to have had so many wonderful friends growing up in Tulsa, and Steve was certainly one of them.  His mother and father were extremely good people.  You will be missed Steve, may you rest in peace.