. The four elective classes not a course study for most college prep students, Mechanical Drawing, Woodshop, Sheet Metal, and Forge, but Gary decided he wasn’t a normal student. He participated in a semester of each, declining the advanced course the vocational students engaged in. It began with Mister Noyes, for mechanical drawing, and followed by his wood shop class, then Mister Niosi for sheet metal and Mister Fraser’s High 8th forge shop.
. His friends Hank and Don having no desire to learn the mechanics of the classes, Don also a college prep student, with Hank opting as a Business study major. Gary reasoned that their lack of vocational interest may have been family related, both the Ball and Bryant families were white-collar workers, employed in management, unlike Gary’s, as reflected by his Dad’s teamster occupation. He didn’t expect journeyman expertise from the vocational shop classes, just an introduction, an understanding of the basic fundamentals, with some hands on experience.
. Two of the three ninth grade junior high curriculum electives were college prerequisite, algebra and a foreign language, either Spanish or Latin. Remembering what Mrs. Jory, his english teacher and class counselor had mentioned after he had difficulties with sentence structuring, “that Latin was a good means to learn a more in depth basis of structuring sentences. With his high math and language requirement meant, he decided to continue to his interest in sports, applying for and accepted as junior coach assisting the P E. teachers. His best friend Hank having moved on to the 10th grade at Castlemont High in the spring, Don having completed his final junior high semester, the boys and Gary also having brought their three years of delivering the Oakland Tribune paper to a conclusion.
. It was a drizzly summer Saturday, not a day for outdoor activity, Gary having made a mental note that it had been posted at school, the Frick gymnasium would now be open on Saturday mornings for students, the result of a new experimental program. Gary on the phone to Hank and Don, proposing an activity that would take them to the school but not to shoot baskets. The boys managing a ride to the school gym from Gary’s Dad on the pretexts of playing basketball that rainy morning, when in reality having other plans. The light rain continuing, the three wearing tennis shoes, not really dressed for a clandestine undertaking. Gary having noticed during his school lunch period, a large storm sewer opening in the draw behind Foster Freeze across from the school that a number of the metal lags that once barricaded the entrance to this enclosed underground passage were missing. Gary speculating to his two friends about entering, traversing the mile and half to where the tunneling passage egresses on the far side of San Leandro Blvd, where the water flow empties into the canal linked to the estuary of the Oakland, San Francisco Bay. The three having conveyed flashlights under their jackets, a necessity to enter the subterranean world of Oakland
. Flashlights in hand, an entreating eye towards the precipitous clouds, the light rain persisting, as they entered the abyss. The echoing sound of falling water, the photonic encasing them as they proceeded on. The once seemingly radiant beam illuminating from the flashlight beginning to lose their lusters, the darkness ahead seeming to intensify, except for the shadowy light filtering down thru the curb drain openings from the street above. The Three were not long into the journey when the discussion turned from boisterous confidence, to whispered doubts, especially when taking notice, the water level down the center of the catacomb was increasing in volume, and its level starting to rise from the unseen rain above. There was no hesitation when the turnaround decision was made, it was conceded, they didn’t have a contingency plan for exiting their confinement, not knowing what was ahead. An irrevocable conclusion was made when Don’s flashlight began to dim and stopped functioning. The explorers estimated that they had traveled about six blocks, judging by the number of curb openings above. An about face, the three deciding to exit their subterranean excursion, a hasten and welcomed return to daylight and a return to the school gym. Gary reasoning, it wasn’t the outcome that matters, but the tenaciousness of the attempt.
. It drew Gary’s attention, the person sitting across from him in Mr. Conley’s Algebra 1 Class. His name was Dale Spady, and he couldn’t recall having any classes with him except in Mrs.. Vrettol eighth grade music class. Gary wasn’t searching or giving thought about acquiring a new friend or associate, especially when Dale lived miles away from his hillside Mountain Blvd valley home, residing across Bancroft Avenue in the flat land expanse of Oakland proper, south of Frick Junior High. but then again, once acquainted, finding that the two shared numerous interest, their conversations levitating on the same plain. He was someone Gary could identify with.
. Notwithstanding, his new acquaintance was different in some ways, although well versed he was more of a spectator rather than an innovator, curious but not actively inquisitive. Gary always considered himself multifarious, embossing a wide spectrum of attainable interest and goals. Trying not to be critical but concluding that Dale was a pendulum held stationary by a lack of aspiration, deciding if the two were to venture together, what he needed was a dose of something Gary had an abundance of, tenacity.
Inquisitive Quest 