The Muncie Central Class of ’69: We're back, 50 years older and wiser

By Dena Kouremetis and Alyson Jack Madsen

Like all the other 18-year-olds walking down the Fieldhouse aisles to accept high school diplomas at the time, we were invincible in our own minds. By 1969 we had spent many a winter evening screaming the Muncie Central Bearcats to victory and now here we were, being cheered on as we celebrated an important rite of passage.

Some of us were about to go off to college. Others went off to war or managed to avoid it completely. And yet others stared at one another in disbelief they were suddenly considered societal “adults” and had to figure out what they wanted to do with their lives. There may have been a feeling of liberation and terror all at once.

In June, the Muncie Central High School class of ’69 reunites for its 50th year since that fateful day when purple tassels bounced off mortarboards. We may no longer have the innocent optimism or even the confusion about life as we once did, but we have the advantage of having been there/done that. With many grandparents now among us, we were the trailing edge baby boomers.

The Class of '69 had a healthy dose of challenges to face: civil rights, women's liberation, the Cold War, the Vietnam conflict, the assassination of three heroic figures, the onset of the drug culture, the sexual revolution and rebel music (music we were told would never stand the test of time) were all happening at once. Woodstock was just the tip of the iceberg. In one form or another, all of these cultural milestones manifested themselves in the students of Middletown, U.S.A. Along with our cohorts across the nation, we were breaking barriers faster than the speed of sound while a man skipped across the surface of the moon for the very first time.

How do we sum up this graduating class without poking fun at the number itself? We talk about the people with whom we walked the dusty, hallowed halls of the original MCHS and the teachers who made a difference. Of course, it’s difficult after all these years to have complete numbers from a class of 525 that walked the halls of MCHS more than 50 years ago. Names have changed, people moved away, more than 100 have passed on, and many have little to no interest in looking back. The most interesting statistics to come out of our class are the number of writers, teachers, award-winners and creatives we produced, with a few attorneys thrown in for good measure. While everyone’s life is important and we honor each graduate, here are some updates on the class of ’69.

A shining star in the ’69 graduating class, Carol Tharp-Perrin went on to lead a life brimming with art, yoga and instructing others in those disciplines, and now lives in Indianapolis. Professional writers include the two authors of this article, Muncie’s Alyson Madsen Jack who wrote for publications such as Savvy, The Star Press, and M Magazine. Dena (Mentis) Kouremetis moved back to California after receiving her B.A. from Ball State, eventually wrote for Forbes and now writes for Psychology Today. Dana Reichart Brown, Susan Bonnell Burns, Laurie Williamson Lunsford, and Mary Ann Holtz are also counted among the class’ writers and authors. Connie Haas Zuber became a reporter at the Fort Wayne News Sentinel, whose staff won a 1983 Pulitzer Prize. Many of us credit CHS journalism teacher Edgar Henderson as the mentor and catalyst in our writing careers.

More notables include Robert McDowell, physician in pathology, Stephen Mong, who became a urologist and author and now lives in Waterloo, IA, and Cornell graduate John Carl Rothaar, who is a town trustee in Michigan. MCHS’ own Pete Lee went on to compete in the 1976 Olympics, and Dick Daniel returned to Muncie after having served in the Marine Corps to continue school, ultimately becoming principal of Central High School. Accomplished musicians among us include Wayne Salyers, Ann Sursa, Tom Sullivan, and Charles Dollison.

We were sad the MCHS building was demolished in 1973, having delighted in the idea of the open campus that permitted us to wander downtown streets freely during lunch hours, even walking back from our YMCA swimming classes with frozen hair. Stories about the “ghosts of Central” never died, but few of us would have wanted a newer building, lacking the “up/down” staircases and the wooden desks that accommodated inkwell bottles, carved with the graffiti of students waiting for the final bell to ring. Looking back, being a Central graduate from the original building became more of an honor than a memory. Despite the warnings of older naysayers, we went on to make up the fabric of a generation that changed everything, from music to politics to art and beyond.

Billy Joel could not have said it better: “If it seems like I've been lost in let’s remember. If you think I'm feeling older and missing my younger days? Oh, then you should have known me much better. ‘Cause my past is something that never got in my way. Oh no.”