There was of course a host of kids that I knew with various levels of familiarity from both my previous spell as a student at Gospel Outreach in junior high and the church community. I was already established to a large degree with these students. Some of the relationships picked up where they left off. Others had changed over the three years I had been away in Pittsburgh.
Melissa Nunez: 8th grade
My longtime ally Missy!
Missy merits inclusion because she was part of the Nunez family who had featured prominently in my life for years. She was now a teenager, but her essence remained unchanged. Always good fun with a voice a little deeper than you’d expect. She was still the silly, goofy, very likable younger sister of Danny and Meredith. Her 8th-grade partner in crime was Jennifer Jimenez. Playful jawing with Missy was always a part of our relationship.
As seniors, we had little direct interaction with the 8th graders. However, since the junior high was literally just a few rooms away from where our classroom was, they were always around.
Her note in my graduation autograph notebook summed it up well.
Jasmine Reames: Freshman
Jasmine and her bling with a goofy, happy grin.
Tall and gangly with plenty of forehead and attitude to spare, Jasmine was a gas. She was self-possessed, loud, opinionated, likable, and fun. A great memory I have is over the winter there was a heavy snowfall. The student body ran outside after school and total snowball warfare broke out. Randomly, I picked out Jasmine as a target. Chasing after her, she tried to flee but stumbled and fell down on her back. I had a sizeable chunk of snow in my hands. I hadn’t even bothered to make a snowball, just a huge slab of snow.
I stood over Jasmine, her eyes widened as she begged for mercy. I waited for a moment, lengthening her mock terror. No mercy. The execution was swift as I dropped the giant chunk of snow on her face. I laughed so hard that I could barely run off as she jumped up and tried roughing me up while throwing snow at me.
She did gain her revenge later in the winter when I was tending the school store. We had a brief, playful but slightly contentious verbal exchange, nothing serious. Then she threw out a quick jab that hit me square on the lower lip. She even drew a trickle of blood! I don’t know who was more shocked, me or Jasmine. I widened my eyes in mock rage (think Hulk Hogan when he had been riled up) and feigned coming out from behind the counter to give chase but decided to leave her be. Jasmine had spunk. Despite our apparently violent history, I got on well with Jasmine 😉
Vanessa Ahmed: Freshman
Sassy and loquacious. Vanessa was a big personality.
Michelle Ahmed’s younger sister, Vanessa was smart, opinionated, and not shy about voicing her thoughts. I still shake my head and laugh when I remember her oogling Bruce at gym class. I swear, it was like a middle-aged lady or a bored housewife sizing up the pool boy. There was no shame in her game. She was a holdover from my previous time at Gospel Outreach. She would have been a 5th grader when I was in 8th grade. Her last name suggests an Arabic background and I’m relatively sure that she and Michelle had a mixed background of Caucasian, Hispanic, and Arabic ethnicity.
Vanessa was very social and always in the mix at school. I’m sure she must have grown tired of all the attention Michelle would get from the boys. However, she very much had her own identity. She came across as strong-minded and street-smart. I had the impression that she would have been a great gossip columnist. If something was going on at school, Vanessa would likely know about it. I have no doubt that she would have been a hell of a lot of fun to hang out with. But I was a senior and our circles didn’t really mix. I didn’t spend much time with any of the freshmen to be honest. They would have been a lively bunch with Joey, Jasmine, and Vanessa. Plenty of characters in that lot.
Michelle Ahmed: Junior
The Resident G.O Heartbreaker.
Another familiar face from the past, Michelle held a prominent place in the Gospel Outreach hierarchy. A queen bee of sorts in our small school populace. She was almost always in the company of Meredith and Cynthia. Michelle was the Gospel Outreach version of Tiffany Theissen of Saved By The Bell or Rachel from Friends. Simply put, a lot of the guys fell hard for Michelle. Danny had pinned after her for years. She inspired poems from Javier. My friend Ranjit had also harbored feelings for her at one point back in the summer of 91’. Years later I learned that she had even managed to cast Carlos under her spell. Suffice to say, she had quite the list of admirers.
Michelle and Bruce had apparently been an item the year prior, but they had since parted ways. Michelle had updated to the 90’s with a short, vampy haircut that framed her face well. Her makeup was usually well done, and she was suitably fashionable without overdoing it. A bright student but not a bookworm, Michelle struck all the right notes of a good-looking girl who had a smart head on her shoulders.
My relationship with Michelle didn’t change much from what it had been in grade school. There would be some back-and-forth good-natured exchanges at times. Her reactions to my proclamations or general foolishness were often punctuated by exaggerated eye-rolling. We got on fine but didn’t spend any significant time in the same social circles.
It is not very fair to look at Michelle solely through the lens of her attractiveness to the guys. To her credit, she never carried herself in a way that suggested she was affected by the attention. Michelle was always approachable and matter of fact. Some girls get caught in the trap of letting their looks become their primary asset, society tends to push that tendency. Michelle was never that sort.
I liked Michelle, she was cool. However, there were never any feelings or attraction to her. It is surprising to say that because she checked a lot of the boxes of what seemed to float my boat: Brunette, lively personality, and vaguely exotic. Maybe she came across as too normal or conventional to me? I suppose rules of attraction are not subject to strict equations. Why was I keen on Cynthia but not Michelle? It is a bit of a mystery I suppose. To quote Jim Broadbent as the bartender in the 1992 film The Crying Game, “Who knows the secrets of the human heart……”
Meredith Nunez: Senior
Meredith in a way was emblematic of my senior year.
Well, speaking of people that I was attracted to……..If I had held out any hope of something happening with Meredith now that I was back living in Chicago, it soon became apparent that it was not in the cards. To my knowledge, she was not seeing anybody else, but my time had passed. I wasn’t willing to put myself out there again after being effectively rebuffed in 90’ and 91’. Here is the kicker though, when you like someone and they decline your approach, you don’t suddenly stop being attracted to them. It is a tough truth to admit, but there it is.
It was a lot easier to approach Lisa and then to a lesser degree Cynthia than mustering up the wherewithal to try my luck again with Meredith. While I was still attracted to Meredith, it wasn’t the same red-hot, chest-throbbing, visceral feeling as before. It made sense in a way. After having put my cards on the table in 91’ and gifting her a gold chain, I had been numbed with disappointment when no appreciable response was forthcoming from her. To be fair, there was a note containing thank you and other niceties, but it was a deflating letdown.
Then there would be school gossip where I heard that Meredith would only go out with Puerto Rican guys. Nonsense like that would wind me up, but more than anything that kind of exclusionary mindset (if it were true) would sadden me. I got along well enough with Meredith senior year, and it didn’t affect my relationship with her brother Danny. Missy would still give me grief about Meredith every now and then, but it was always in good fun.
There would never be any significant conversations or exchanges with Meredith during my senior year. That was in a way appropriate. It was also indicative of a more pervasive feeling of having returned to a place where the old sensations had gone.
Danny Nunez: Senior
This was Danny’s default expression in photos for senior year.
Danny remained one of my closest friends, we had known each other since the fall of 1983. Yet our relationship had changed to some degree and there were a couple of factors involved. In the years that followed 8th grade and before senior year, a certain dynamic had developed between me and Danny, especially if our friend Ranjit was present. Danny could be an easy target for verbal barbs. Much of it originated on the basketball court. I was a trash talker and Danny wasn’t. Danny also had the type of game that was easy to make fun of. He was slow for a guard, ponderous, and a poor shooter. We used to call his long-range bombs at the basket scud missiles. Danny’s shooting and Saddam Hussein’s scud missiles did have some key elements in common. Both were inaccurate and created a loud noise upon impact. If I would create the spark by making light-hearted fun of Danny, Ranjit would add the lighter fluid and be relentless. While I would make a few comments and be done with it, Ranjit had no off switch. None of it was vicious or mean but it had to be wearisome for him. Danny was too nice a guy to ever come out directly and say, “Hey Jim, quit being a dick.”. But he probably should have. As time wore on, I came around to the realization that it was negatively affecting our relationship, but that dynamic was present senior year.
Also, during the years that I had been in Pittsburgh, I had been replaced in the friend hierarchy by a fast-talking, quick-to-smile huckster named Chad. Chad graduated in 1992, but he and Danny had become very good friends. I had only met Chad on a couple of occasions. He arrived on the Gospel Outreach scene in 1990 and quickly established himself. Ranjit talked him up and he was hailed as this great basketball player from Portland. I played with Chad, along with Ranjit and Danny on a visit to Chicago in 1991. I already had daggers out mentally as I sized him up. Objectively speaking, he was a good player with some size, solid fundamentals, and reasonably intelligent, but nothing special. He had a gee golly, aw-shucks demeanor to him that some found endearing, but I smelled as less than genuine. A young Joel Osteen in training. Dislike might be too strong a word, but I was not a fan. I thought he was a phony.
He complimented my play on the court and I grunted an acknowledgment. It wasn’t much more than that. He wasn’t my cup of tea. However, Chad quickly made an impression on Danny. They became close friends and Danny held Chad in very, very high regard. So while Chad had graduated, his impact and influence on Danny was profound. To the point that Danny was intending to attend college at the same small, Christian school in Iowa where Chad had enrolled.
What was it about Chad that appealed to Danny? Chad came across as self-assured without being cocky. He had played basketball at high school level in Portland. He seems to have brought a vibe of a more experienced person and took Danny under his wing. Another key aspect that cannot be undersold. He didn’t make fun of Danny or ever try to make a fool of him. That was significant. I was never that considerate. By nature, I tend to clown around and verbally joust when the mood suits me.
None of this changed the fact that Danny was still one of my closest friends, but the relationship had become more complicated. Whereas I had expected everything to reset to June 1989, including my friendship with Danny, it would never be as simple and straightforward again.
Now for the fun stuff. Danny thought he was buff. Hey, he was in good shape but looking back at some yearbook photos he is posing/flexing in virtually EVERY picture. Stone-faced and sporting rayon shirts, Danny was trying to channel Freedom Williams from C+C Music Factory in these poses. For sure.
Danny may have also contributed the worst attempt to add an insult to the English language. Deciding to combine the words “buffoon” and “fiend” into a singular word, Danny introduced the word, “Buffiend” to the English lexicon. Let’s take a closer look at this. A buffoon, as commonly defined is “a ridiculous but amusing person; a clown”. Sometimes I certainly could be guilty of acting like a buffoon senior year (and well beyond). A fiend is” a wicked or cruel person OR a person who is excessively fond or addicted to something”. Maybe it’s just me but I don’t think the two words buffoon and fiend were ever meant to join as one. Well, Danny forced the verbal marriage and proceeded to use this newfound insult whenever he could.
Danny was also incredibly stubborn (still is) so no matter how many times you told him that “Buffiend” did not work as an insult, he would obstinately double down. We read MacBeth our senior year, so maybe Danny was inspired by the works of Shakespeare to add new words to the rich history of the English language.
Despite Danny’s spartan workout habits and his thoroughly sincere nature, like myself he was not a winner with the ladies. At least not the ladies of Gospel Outreach, which if you included all the girls from 10th through 12th grade was a grand total of 10. It was a limited market. Maybe Danny was just too nice. Looking back, maybe he needed to craft an alter ego like “Danger Dan” who would wear sunglasses, smoke cigarettes, and nod his head to music that only he could hear.
We had open campus at lunch so Danny, me and Ismael would go out walking around the neighborhood. Oftentimes we’d stop at a nearby Sara Lee outlet. It was a baked goods paradise. Honeybuns, Golden Cremes, mini pound cakes, and Bear claws to name a few. Me and Danny would regularly gorge on the discounted goodies. We may have struck out with the girls at the school, but Sara Lee never let us down.
Sara Lee: My most significant female relationship of senior year.
While I have mentioned some of the elements that changed my friendship with Danny had. There was a near incident involving Bruce revealing that old foundations were still intact.
Rumor of a supposed beef between Danny and Bruce started to spread. The origins were likely linked to Michelle in some way shape or form. Danny was not the confrontational sort who would ever go spoiling for a fight. Danny was even less confrontational than me. Bruce as well for that matter had not struck me as an instigator or a kid that liked fighting. Nonetheless, in the middle of senior year there was talk that Danny and Bruce were going to face off. Fight! Fight!! Fight!!
While Danny was not a fighter by nature, he was strong and tough as teak. But he did not have a real edge to him. At least I never saw that side of Danny. Bruce on the other hand seemed to be the sort who while he wouldn’t seek out a confrontation, I had the impression that he could handle himself. He was quick, athletic, and strong enough.
Truth be told I was unsure how Danny would fare against Bruce. In true to form, shit-stirring fashion, Ranjit poked and prodded when he heard the news through the Gospel Outreach grapevine, “What are you going to do if Bruce starts to give Danny a beating?”. Ranjit was instigating as was his wont, fishing for my reaction. He also loved to use the word “beating”. “Bare fisted beating, bare-bottomed beating, a sound beating, any alliteration where he could add in the word “beating”, he’d do it. I gave him the response he was looking for: “I’ll have to jump in and give him a real beating. What do you think?!” . Big, brave words, but I sure as hell was hoping it wasn’t going to come to that. Number one, I did not want to see Danny in that position. Number two, I did not exactly have an extensive street-fighting background of my own to call upon. I would not be laying Bruce out with a Van Damme style spinning roundhouse kick. A far more likely scenario would have been an awkward American football-style tackle to break things up.
Well, guess what? Nobody had their asses handed to them. The big fight never happened, and all the buzz fizzled out. I fail to recall why the Rumble at Horner Park never happened, but ultimately it didn’t. All that build-up and anticipation for nothing, right? It was all hype and innuendo. There was no genuine heat between Danny and Bruce. Not enough to culminate in a fight anyway.
However, I certainly would have intervened had the scenario Ranjit described come to pass. If push had come to punch, I would have taken lumps for Danny. No questions asked. That code remained hardwired.
Danny trying to figure out why Bruce got all the proposals from the girls.
Danny and I shared some musical tastes. Electronic dance music in its various forms was a common ground between us. He would have been a big fan of Two Unlimited, Snap, The Captain Hollywood Project, Dr. Alban, and AB Logic to name a few of the Eurodance groups that had made a splash in the US Market. Danny and I split paths significantly on music outside of the dance/electronica realm. More on those differences in a bit.
Since winter occupied a good deal of the school year, memories remain strong of Danny in his Chicago Bulls Starter jacket. Starter-brand jackets were very popular at the time. They wouldn’t have been cheap, but the quality was solid. The Bulls had surpassed the Chicago Bears in popularity amongst our peer group. Teens wearing Bulls gear was very common as they were the most successful sporting franchise in the city at that point. Michael Jordan was at his zenith, so the Bulls were the coolest as well. I don’t remember anybody at school wearing Chicago Bears gear my senior year.
Danny didn’t mix too much with the freshmen and sophomores. Much like myself, he interacted with them on occasion but not consistently. It was pretty much Danny, Ismael, and me that would hang together senior year. Danny was liked and respected by almost everyone. He was not a big presence or super popular per se. He was Danny, the Chevy Impala of Gospel Outreach, as honest as the day is long, completely dependable, and ever-present. Timeless and invaluable traits too often taken for granted. He would go years having perfect attendance. I’m very pleased that I had the opportunity to graduate with Danny as my classmate. It is remarkable to think that he and Meredith had been attending Gospel Outreach since 1981. Two products of the evangelical system who turned out very differently.
John David: Senior
John David: The Roller Coaster King of Illinois and probably the strongest man in Chicago.
John looked almost exactly the same as he had in 8th grade. That look being of a 35-year-old Indian man with thick glasses and the physical density of an oak tree. John was autistic but had yet to be properly diagnosed. John was such an original. He was still excitable, an avid sports fan, devoutly religious, with an encyclopedic-like memory. While his younger brother Jonathan had moved on to Lutheran North High School, John had stayed at Gospel Outreach. Looking back, the school was the ideal environment for John. A safe place for John to attend school without being taken advantage of. God knows what would have happened to John had he attended a Chicago Public High School or even a parochial high school.
The legend that was John David was reaching the end of his journey at Gospel Outreach. John had been attending the school since 1986, the same year I had returned from St. Edward’s. John had been such a massive and memorable presence during my junior high days.
There were so many off-the-wall incidents and madcap capers he had been a part of. Whether it was biting me on my stomach in 6th grade playing football, leaving an imprint of his dental records on my pasty midsection. Howling at wall-shaking volume when Reggie gleefully slung a hammer into his ball sack in 8th grade, chasing after his brother Jonathan, Reggie, and myself as we left him behind to jump on the bus home, John squealing in a high-pitched panic as he bounded down the block. His inexplicable ability to generate superhuman, Incredible Hulk-type strength and throwing me aside like a hefty bag of trash during a basketball game in gym class. Taking full-blooded punches from me and Danny to his upper arm and roaring in pain in a way that would make Ric Flair or any professional wrestler proud.
The off-the-wall tomfoolery culminated in the 8th-grade trip to Great America where we put him on The American Eagle and The Shockwave. Two of the biggest, fastest roller coasters at the amusement park. We nearly died of convulsive laughter as he carried on with verbal histrionics that made him sound like the Indian version of Curley from the Three Stooges, except even more over the top.
John and Curly Howard shared similar vocal intonations when excited.
I recount all these instances (with some guilt in retrospect), because while John had featured so prominently in 6th, 7th, and 8th grade, by senior year that was no longer the case. I cannot recall a singular moment with John during senior year. Why? Well, no one was trying to agitate John or provoke a reaction out of him. As much as I laughed at the time, I certainly wasn’t going to try and replicate 8th-grade experiences by poking fun at John. Who knows? Maybe, just maybe, I had matured to a slight degree.
However, while I’m glad that John was no longer a target of childish pranks and at times adolescent cruelty, I am disappointed that I don’t hold any strong memories of John from senior year.
Yet, there were still stories that continued to build the legend of John David. John was a dedicated Christian and slow to anger. However, one of his triggers was if someone would curse or use the Lord’s name in vain. Naturally, there were kids who wanted to push that button. The year prior in 1991, Robert Garcia had decided to provoke John in that very way. After Robert had sent a flurry of expletives his way, John grabbed his tormenter and lifted him up. It was very similar to when Darth Vader picked up the Emperor in Return of The Jedi. He then stuffed him into a locker and shut it closed. John still possessed Samson-like strength when the spirit moved him. Having felt John’s strength firsthand, I can attest to the fact that it felt like you were getting manhandled by a big chimp. Chimps are about seven times stronger than a man. Thank God that John had a much nicer disposition than most chimps 😉
“Robert!! Stop using those bad words and taking the Lord’s name in vain!”
I am obliged to recount a tale his brother Jonathan shared once John continued his education at Trinity Christian College. This is not a first-hand account so some of the details are lost in time. However, it only serves to enhance the legend. Apparently, early in freshman year, it was not long before John was invited to a college party on campus. As you might imagine, there was drinking and carousing and the usual shenanigans that occur at a college party. A couple of the jocks saw John as a target for an easy laugh. The two young men were part of the wrestling team and decided it was time for an impromptu wrestling tournament event. All I can picture in my mind is a scene straight out of Revenge of the Nerds or Animal House.
One of the wrestlers approaches John and throws down the gauntlet. John politely declines and patiently explains that he doesn’t think that it is a good idea to wrestle. Fueled by liquid courage and annoyed that John won’t accept the challenge, the wrestler responds with a few expletives and quickly attempts to apply a side headlock on John. Whether it was the curse words or the physical horseplay, John’s super strength was ignited. He grabbed the trained collegiate wrestler by the arm and swung him around once in a 360-degree motion before flinging him into the wall. The college wrestler’s back and head slamming against the wall, the young man groaned and slowly slunk to the ground in a dazed state of semi-concussed bewilderment.
His tag team partner saw what had unfolded and immediately charged John seeking to avenge his buddy’s humiliation. Years of wrestling experience counted for nothing as John grabbed him and proceeded to physically throw the would-be Dan Gable over a couch where he landed in a heap. Now maybe these goofs were at less than their best due to their adult beverage consumption. But something tells me that John’s super strength would have accounted for those two clowns no matter the scenario. God, I would have paid Superbowl ticket prices to have borne witness to that evening’s events.
Michael Shorlo: Senior
Michael kept a low-profile senior year.
Michael is another former classmate who had not changed a great deal over the past four years. He was still smaller than most of the other boys with poor posture and schlubby clothes. Glasses normally obscured his small eyes. I have little idea of what Michael had experienced at Gospel Outreach while I had been absent. I don’t imagine much of it was a lot of fun.
In 8th grade, over the course of that school year 1988-89, Michael had become the class pariah. He was often the architect of his own situation. Several incidents had occurred that led to his unpopularity amongst the class. Some of it had been unfortunate circumstances, some if it was his own doing. After he had come up from behind and choked Danny unconscious after school in early 1989, Michael was persona non grata. My last significant interaction with him in 8th grade had been whipping a basketball off his head when we were playing pickup in the alley during lunch.
There were other incidents as well that had occurred outside of school that had drawn the ire of former classmates. He was at the very bottom of the social hierarchy.
I don’t know what fears Michael had when I returned to Gospel Outreach. One of the first days of school, he mustered the gumption to walk up to me and Danny, “Hey guys, I don’t want any problems this year. Can we be friends and get along?” offering his hand. Friendship was never going to happen. However, I was not a bully, and I was not interested in making his life any more miserable than it already was. Me and Danny reluctantly shook hands with Michael. His hand was clammy. It’s weird how physical memories like that remain.
There were no incidents with Michael Shorlo senior year. He was still viewed with suspicion as an oddball. However, he kept a low profile. It was interesting to note that like John, Michael had played a significant role in my 8th grade narrative, but his presence barely registered my senior year.
Michael was the oldest senior in the class, having turned 19 in November of 1992. He was not a very good student. He was not an athlete. He wore drab, unfashionable clothes and he was not blessed with good looks. He was still a social outcast in most respects. It was difficult to say what his interests were. I recount these observations to paint a picture but also to convey the realization that his was one of the worst positions a male teenager could find himself in. I did not have a lot of sympathy for Michael at the time, as I felt that his position as a social outcast had been largely self-inflicted. However, it must have been a terribly difficult teenage experience. That is the least I can acknowledge.
Carlos Flores: Senior
Carlos is clearly filled with the joy of the Lord in this photo.
Let’s make one fact clear from the start: Carlos should have never been a part of my senior class of 1992-93. Carlos arrived in Chicago from Puerto Rico in 1987 as a 13-year-old who spoke little to no English. He came from a single-parent home and his mother, Lucy found Gospel Outreach soon after moving to Chicago. Carlos began attending classes as a freshman in 1988 and quickly established himself as a singularly unique presence. He was laconic by both nature and circumstance. Suspect of people by nature, Carlos wasn’t a carefree, easy-smiling personality. Since his English was a work in progress, it served his purpose to be clipped and to the point when he spoke.
Yet it did not take long to figure out that Carlos had a great BS detector and was not afraid to voice his opinion when his radar was activated.
Carlos grew up quickly by necessity and choice. He was a hustler and focused. As a 14-year-old, he had a small, wispy mustache. With his full head of black hair, his thin mustache and his poker face, Carlos looked like a young adult.
Carlos had a keen interest in photography as well as a good eye for observation.
There was little to no interest in sports. When he played in the basketball games that pitted the high schoolers versus 8th grade, Carlos wore stone-washed jeans that were cinched at the ankle. It was comically ridiculous, but Carlos could have cared less. He played about as well as you would expect from someone choosing to play in stone-washed jeans cinched at the ankle.
While in high school he secured a professional contact in the form of Ranjit’s father. This came about in 1990 when Carlos stood up for Ranjit during a time when Ranjit was being bullied at school. Apparently, in the fall of 1990 there was an influx of new students at Gospel Outreach, some of whom had decided to mark out their territory by picking targets to abuse. Carlos had stepped up to get Ranjit out of a situation where he was going to get beat up. The word got back to Ranjit’s father, Chris Rodricks. Grateful for Carlos’s actions, he asked Carlos how he could pay him back. Carlos asked for a job. Chris put him in touch with a contact at his company Xerox, he vouched for Carlos and soon enough Carlos was employed.
Carlos often came across as aloof and distant. He seemingly had no desire to be popular or liked. A born skeptic, he regarded Gospel Outreach leadership with a sideways view. While the rest of us were still kids in many respects, Carlos appeared bored with the immaturity of adolescence. He was in many ways already living and functioning as an adult.
Senior year he was working full time on an overnight shift and attending school half awake. He didn’t hang out with any group in particular and seemed far removed from our world. Only occasionally he would take a walk with me, Danny, and Ismael. His caustic comments and brutally frank observations made me both laugh and gasp at times. When Carlos took the filter off, he let it rip.
However, as mentioned at the beginning, Carlos didn’t belong in our senior class at all. He should have been part of the graduating class of 1992.
Remember, Carlos had been one of a group of students expelled from Gospel Outreach in the late spring of the 91-92 school year as a part of the group of students caught drinking alcohol brought by one of the teachers.
Ranjit and Nathan bitterly accepted their fate and moved on from the debacle. To put this in some perspective, they had been at the school for 9 and 8 years respectively. Real veterans of a school that had only been in existence since 1981. Their parents were also faithful members of the congregation. Robert, a freshman, was forced to transfer to Schurz, a high school with a deservedly awful reputation. A move that would have disastrous consequences. He had also attended Gospel Outreach since his early elementary days.
Carlos decided to proceed differently. He sat down with Tom Peterson and calmly laid out the terms: Gospel Outreach could allow him to return and attend school part-time and graduate the following school year. In exchange, he would not contact the Chicago public school commission and expose the fact that Gospel Outreach was not officially accredited as an educational institution by the city. The scenario that Carlos introduced had the potential to shut the school down. Tom Peterson must have dreaded the potential fallout and quickly climbed down from his high horse to reconsider his decision. I don’t know with any certainty that Carlos had performed the research to back up his assertion. Apparently, with his poker-faced delivery, it made Pastor Tom’s pasty butt cheeks clench with enough anxiety that he agreed to Carlos’ proposal.
It took nerves, intelligence, and guile to pull off what Carlos managed to negotiate. Good for him.
Carlos loved music and had a home stereo surround sound set-up that was jaw-dropping. Clearly, his play money from Xerox went toward his passion for music. His tastes were all over the map. On one of the occasions that I was by his place, one of the tunes he had up on full volume was Jefferson Starship’s “Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now”. Now while I like this song, at the time, this would have been considered a rather unfashionable song to advertise your affinity for. Carlos didn’t care. That was one quality he projected that I wish I had. The ability to walk around and not give a damn what anybody else thinks. It is a rare trait in general and even more scarce among teens.
A humorously blunt but surprisingly kind note from Carlos from my graduation notebook.
Gospel Outreach School and High School Memories 1988-1992 