Family Focus

Lost And Found

Close-knit Southfield kids reclaim bonds
at 40-year, sixth-grade reunion.

Left: Carolyn Krieger-

Cohen of West
Bloomfield holds a love

note written by Michael
Meyers of Davie, Fla.,
when both were in the

sixth grade.

Below: Twelve-year-old
sweethearts Carolyn

and Michael in 1968

Losing Touch
As we grew up, we inevitably went
our separate ways and lost touch.
Classmates married, moved throughout
Michigan or out of state, and began
their families and careers. Only a few
friends from our old neighborhood
remained close. As the years sped by, I
found myself wondering more and more
about where my very first playmates,
classmates and confidantes were, and
longed to reconnect with them again.
So when my 30-year Southfield-
Lathrup High School reunion rolled
around in 2004, I attended with eager
anticipation. What happened from that
evening forward literally changed my
life.

Carolyn Krieger-Cohen in sixth grade
holding the school's winning motto, "The

More You Know, The More You Grow"

Michelle Kaufman Mountain (front) at

Carolyn Krieger-Cohen's birthday party
in June 1962

Carolyn Krieger-Cohen
Special to the Jewish News

I

East Southfield School was renamed
Marion Simms Elementary School in

1968 after principal Marion Simms
retired. The school was located on
Pierce, between Wiltshire and San Rosa,

in Southfield and was torn down in 1982.

Hyman accidentally shot his bb gun at
Robin Richards, Bobby Lutren swung
his baseball bat and hit the class bully
in the face, Howard Elias' mom unknow-
ingly drove him to fight a classmate
after school and Mark Faber took
offense at something I said and pushed
me face first into the snow. But most of
our times together were spent enjoying
life's simple pleasures, such as playing
hopscotch, jacks and box hockey, walk-
ing to Don's Town & Country Market to
buy penny candy and telling ghost sto-
ries at sleepovers with our best friends.

dyllic is how I would describe
growing up in the small, eclectic,
Southfield neighborhood known as
Bonnie Acres during the 1960s, where
both Jewish and non-Jewish families
built and moved into their first homes.
For me, it was a time of innocence, of
lazy summer days riding my bike with
friends, waiting for Harold, the friendly
ice cream man, to make his daily stop
in front of my house on Aberdeen, and
secretly kissing my childhood sweet-
heart in the backyard clubhouse that
my brother Jeff built from scraps of
wood he found in the field off of Catalpa
street.
While many of my friends in our half-
square-mile subdivision also enjoyed

happy family lives, others there were not
nearly as fortunate. Behind closed doors
in some of the neat, modest starter
homes off of 12 Mile Road, between
Brentwood and Stuart streets, numerous
classmates were silently suffering vari-
ous types of abuse that they shared with
no one. They internalized their shame,
cowered under the covers and believed
they were all alone in hiding family
secrets.
But whichever scenario we were expe-
riencing on the inside of our homes,
once we walked out of our respective
front doors and headed to our safe
haven known East Southfield (later
renamed Marion Simms) Elementary
School, we somehow blended seamlessly
together.
That's not to say that there weren't
the occasional fights, like when Ricky

Reawakened Hearts
With memories intact, feelings strong
and hearts bursting with joy, over a
dozen Simms Elementary School alumni
gravitated immediately toward one
another and remained within arm's
length all night long. It was as if we were
in a magical time capsule or a comfort-
ing childhood cocoon while surrounded
by the blur of 350 other people in atten-
dance from our high school. We could
not take our eyes off of each other. We
could not stop hugging one another. We
laughed. We cried. And when someone
said, "We have got to find everyone else
we were 48-year-old kids at heart on a
mission.

Pure Acceptance
One year later on July 8-10, 2005, and
again a few weeks ago on Aug. 1-3

Lost...And Found on page B25

iN

August 14 • 2008

B23

