Neil Buckley, Tom Trout and Amos Hixon at our senior Downbeat extravaganza. - Bison Photo by Orvis KlineWe’ve been down this road before. But like all things Neil Buckley, it’s worth another trip.
Suzy Sherkel Nagle rekindled the memories recently when she wrote in response to a question from Joyce Moody Fletcher as to whether Neil attended any of our class reunions:
Unless he was at the 5th (the only one I missed), Neil did not attend any class reunions. (Editor’s note: He didn’t show for the 5th, either.) He showed up on our doorstep once when we were living in Springfield, Ohio - in 1963, most likely. He was "on the lam" from the law (FBI, maybe) at the time, because he was very active in the SDS (Students for a Democratic Society). I guess that means we were aiding and abetting a "criminal", huh?
He DID come to Clearfield every once in a while; and we'd manage to get together for a few hours. He even deigned to come to dinner once when we were living in Hillsdale. He wanted to listen to my dad's old jazz records. That's when he gave us the tape of his band "The Neil Buckley Octet", which we still have and cherish...I'd particularly like to know to whom I gave the original cassette tape that Neil gave us (of his octet). It had the titles and arrangers (listing Neil as such on many of the tracks) of the pieces. The one that we have is just a copy that we made (minus that info). I'm thinking that I "lent" it to some classmate at a reunion - maybe '79, '84 or '89. Perhaps you should start posting lost-and-found ads....
As far as I can recollect, since he refused to fly (or was unable to fly because of his lung condition), he didn't even come home for his mother's funeral! He was certainly one of a kind. Any other memories, anyone?
Dennis Mollura:
Yes, Suzy, lots of them.
I first met Neil Buckley in the Sixth Grade at Leonard Grade School in the fall of 1952 and in Boy Scout Troop 7 at the Trinity Methodist Church. At that time, my perception was that he was just another of the happy-go-lucky, prepubescent boys.
By the Ninth Grade, his personality began to present itself – at least to me.
Neil was a serious student. Late one Friday morning, for example, Mr. Eldon Nelson gave us an assignment to write a thousand-word term paper on some aspect of Pennsylvania History. It was due in two weeks. By Monday morning, Neil’s was complete. I hadn’t even begun to think of mine.
He was an Eagle Scout and a patriot. He and I usually sat together at the Clearfield High football games at the Driving Park and always stood to sing, loud and clear, the Alma Mater. We also stood to sing the National Anthem, home and away.
He worked at a part-time job after school sweeping up, I believe, at Rhine’s Tobacco Store or maybe Hembold and Stewart Insurance or Moore Wilson & Eshelman Insurance.(Someone please verify or correct me on this.) With his earnings he bought, among other things, a jalopy which he painted a weird purple and decorated (as I recall) with yellow flowers or some paisley-like designs - perhaps portending a Neil Buckley to come.
No one, it seemed, ever gave him anything. He worked hard for everything he earned. And earned everything he had.
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