SAMPLE OF WHAT IS ON FACEBOOK

This is an example of what you are missing by not joining “Fullerton High Alumni” and “Growing Up In Fullerton” groups on Facebook. See how to join in prior post. This first entry is in "Fullerton High Alumni" and is about a teacher.

John C. Hall 9:34am Feb 27
I remember one morning in maybe late '65, our PE class was having archery pratice on the front lawn in front of the old admimistration building when Mr Strange showed up holding an arrow in his hand waving his white handkerchief symbolically surrendering. Someone had managed to shoot his arrow over the administration building into the classroom area. Moments to remember:-)

Here is an experience that I, Connie, put in "Growing Up In Fullerton":

On my 77th birthday, I am thinking I’m lucky to have lived this long.
I just remembered another way that I almost got killed growing up in Fullerton (before the horse almost stepped on my head).
When Mother and I lived in a little house behind a store on Spadra a couple of blocks south of the train station, I would ride my bike up to the Melody Inn restaurant close to the corner of Spadra and Commonwealth where my mother was a waitress. One day during summer vacation before 7th grade, I was riding up to the restaurant (on the wrong side of the street where any halfway-intelligent kid knows to ride so they can keep an eye on coming cars) and as I crossed over the railroad tracks and passed the packing house across the street from the train station, a truck loaded with heavy wooden boxes filled to the brim with oranges started turning left out of the packing house and onto Spadra just behind me. It was packed at least 6 layers high with those boxes and, as it passed behind me and the driver got ahead of me, the top box at the back of the truck teetered and fell off of the truck and landed just in front of my bicycle. There were oranges everywhere. I was able to veer away from the box so I didn’t run into it and have an accident. I just pedaled like I had never done before. If it had landed on my head, that heavy and from that height, it would have killed me for sure.
Of course, I never told my mother. (I was setting a precedent for my horse accident experience that would come a couple of years later.) I always regretted leaving those beautiful oranges behind, but I knew that I had had a lucky break to just survive. (And how would I have explained where all of those oranges in my bike basket had come from?)
I wonder where the driver thought his cargo was. I hope that he got in trouble for not tying down those boxes.

Here's my horse story:

When I was in 7th or 8th grade in about 1948, I was helping my friend Janet Kerridge bring her 2 horses back from pasture in the west Malvern neighborhood to her house and stables on Nicholas. We had folded up the canvas horse blankets and made saddles out of them. When we were walking through an orange grove, the belt on the blanket that I was sitting on came loose and dangled down the horse’s side and spooked him. de and spooked him. He reared up and slid me off his side into the soft, plowed earth and I landed flat on my back right under him. When I opened my eyes, all I saw was his left hind hoof sailing close right across my eyes and over my head, barely missing it. Fortunately, I was safe before I knew I was in danger. I grew up in Fullerton amidst the beautiful orange groves and came close to dying there too. (I never told my mother because that would have been the end of my riding days.) Connie, FUHS '53He reared up and slid me off his side into the soft, plowed earth and I ended up flat on my back right under him. When I opened my eyes, all I saw was his left hind hoof sailing close right across my eyes and over my head, barely missing it. Fortunately, I was safe before I knew I was in danger. I grew up in Fullerton amidst the beautiful orange groves and came close to dying there too. (I never told my mother because that would have been the end of my riding days.)