Bob Lanphar

Hey fellow Rebels, does anyone remember the name of our Chemistry teacher?

Bob Lanphar

Richard Maurer

Mr. Kaylor was chemistry teacher.  He was alway very enthusiastic and encouraging.

Greg Cook

I know it's been a while, but I came across something today that brought the Class of 1965 to top of mind. (and at my age that's a journey fraught with peril. Apparently, we've graduated from being Baby Boomers to being STBO (Soon To Be Octogenarians). But achieving that milestone made me wonder.

What would be the one thing you would tell your younger high school self that you've learned in the years since Savanna?

Looking forward to reading your replies

Greg Cook

I remember Mr Kaylor vividly. He didn't kick me out when I created an explosion during chemistry class. He was a classmate of John Wayne (Marion Morrison) at USC, and he said that annually the classmates would meet on his yacht for a party weekend.

Bobbie Bechtold (Ryan)

Bobbie Bechtold (Ryan)

Sadly, we have lost another Savanna Rebel. Kathy Benson Rudd Jackson passed away on December 15, 2025, in Mesa, Arizona. She recently had hip replacement surgery, but passed away while in rehabilitation.

Kathy Benson will be remembered as one of the three Savanna Baton Majorettes.

Please visit the In Memory site on the left side of the Home Page.

Bob Lanphar

Thank you. I remember Mr Kaylor and his antics to emphasize some chemical reaction point. He was the one the placed the chemistry bug in me. I ended up getting two undergraduate degrees in computer science and mathematics along with two classes away from a degree in organic chemistry. 

Greg Cook

You're welcome Bobbie, I guess now that 2025 is nearly over, I can let the cat out of the bag. That was my first venture into AI-enhanced writing. Your remarks have inspired me to create something so we can celebrate our STBO (Soon To Be Octogenarians). Stay tuned!

Greg Cook

The Savanna STBOs: Is the Class of ’65 the G.O.A.T.?

Let’s be honest: back in the day, if you told a Savanna Rebel that we’d all be staring down our 80th birthdays together, we probably would have checked your punch bowl for something suspicious.

But here we are. We have officially entered the STBO phase (Soon To Be Octogenarians).

If you look at the history books, this many people from one graduating class making it to the 8-0 milestone isn't just a "good run"—it’s a statistical miracle. In the world of graduating classes, we aren’t just the Rebels; we are officially the G.O.A.T. (Greatest Of All Time).

The Legend of the Indestructible Rebel

Think about what we’ve survived. We survived cars made of solid lead with no seatbelts. We survived hairspray that was probably 40% jet fuel. We survived the "mystery meat" in the Savanna cafeteria (which, let’s be real, probably contained the preservatives that are keeping us all alive today).

Scientists should probably study us. While the rest of the world is worried about "anti-aging" creams, the Savanna STBOs are just keepin’ on, keepin’ on. We’ve traded our drag races for morning dog walks, and our "all-nighters" now end at 8:30 PM, but the Rebel spirit hasn't dimmed—it’s just become more... durable.

A Toast to the Pioneers Who Led the Way

As we look toward 80, we have to pause and tip our caps to the Rebels who were "STBOs" before us but didn't quite make it to this specific finish line. They were the ones who taught us how to live fast, laugh hard, and make the most of every Saturday night.

They might not be here to argue with us about who had the fastest car or the best hair, but they are a permanent part of the G.O.A.T. Class. We carry their stories with us—even if we have to squint a little harder to remember the details now.

The "Long Haul" Hall of Fame

Reaching 80 is like winning the ultimate "Enduro" race. We’ve seen the world change from black-and-white TVs to phones that talk back to us. We’ve seen trends come and go, but the Class of '65 remains.

We aren't just getting older; we are optimizing our legacy sleeve. We are the generation that proved that 80 is the new 60 (with maybe just a few more naps).

So, here’s to the Savanna STBOs. We’ve made it this far because we’re too stubborn to stop and too Rebel to follow the rules of aging.

Watch out, world—the 80s are coming, and the Rebels are leading the pack.

Michael Elliott

Great stuff, Greg.  Amazing the lifetimes we've come through.  

Regarding Mr. Kaylor.  I remember when he was telling us to heat our test tubes with bunsen burners:  "Heat your bottoms til they're rosy red!"  Quirky fascinating character.  I was in his class on November 22, 1963 and he told us the shocking news that occurred while we were in class.  Etched in my mind.  

Joan Elliott (Euans)

Jerry, That's a beautiful painting of the Nativity! I hope you and yours had a blessed Christmas and have a Happy New Year!  Joan

Linda Wonn (Carpenter)

That is delightful Greg! Thank you.

Greg Cook

The Rebels and the Rackets: A Savanna High Noir

"This is the city: Los Angeles, California. I work here. I'm a cop... The story you are about to see is true. The names have not been changed to protect the innocent."

In the early 1960s, we lived in a bubble. Savanna High was surrounded by the scent of orange blossoms and the optimism of a growing Orange County. We were the "Rebels," focused on pep rallies, surf music, and the looming threat of the draft. But looking back, it turns out the "L.A. Noir" we saw on our television sets wasn't just fiction—it was sitting right next to us in the cafeteria.

The Legend of the "Big Man on Campus"

Every class has its stars. For us, it was Anthony Brooklier (Class of ’64). He was the quintessential leader: Captain of the football team and Student Body President. He was charismatic, athletic, and respected.

But beneath the "All-American" surface, rumors swirled through the hallways. We whispered about the "Brooklier family business." We wondered how the family's top athletes managed to secure medical deferments while the rest of us were preparing for Vietnam. We thought we were being imaginative teenagers.

We were wrong.

A Godfather in Anaheim

While we were cheering under the Friday night lights, Anthony’s father—known to some as James Regace—was living a double life. To the neighbors, he was Dominic Brooklier, a suburban father. To the FBI, he was a "made man" in the Los Angeles Crime Family.

By the time we graduated in 1965, Dominic was a powerful "Capo" overseeing mob crews right here in Orange County. He wasn't just a local businessman; he was a rising star in the underworld who would become the Boss of the L.A. Mafia by 1974.

Where Are They Now?

The story didn't end at graduation. The leadership Tony showed at Savanna High eventually took him to the highest levels of the California legal system.

• Dominic Brooklier was eventually ensnared in a massive federal RICO case. He passed away in 1984 while serving time in federal prison, marking the end of an era for the L.A. mob.

• Anthony Brooklier became a legendary defense attorney. In a twist worthy of a screenplay, he famously defended his own father in court, later representing high-profile figures like the "Hollywood Madam" Heidi Fleiss. Tony passed away in 2016, remembered as a legal titan who never forgot where he came from.

The Moral of the Story

We grew up thinking Orange County was "impervious" to the grit of the city. We didn't realize that the quiet cul-de-sacs were the perfect place for a future "Godfather" to raise a family.

We were just kids in the Class of ’65, unaware that while we were playing at being "Rebels," we were sharing the halls with the real-life history of the Los Angeles underground.

Jerry Labuda

Great story and history Greg.

Charles Harvey (Harvey)

Thanks Greg. I remember some of the story. I didn't realize that Tony had passed away.

Linda Wonn (Carpenter)

Thank you, Greg. I also did not realize that Tony had passed away. I always liked Tony and he was in a couple of productions with me at Savanna.  When I was a sophomore and Tony was a junior, he used to occasionally drive me home after theater practice as he loved my Mother's baked goods which she made daily. She thought Tony was intelligent and very polite, but when she found out his last name, she told me his father was in the "Mafia" and I could never accept any gifts form him (not that he ever tried to give me any) as it could be "very "dangerous." Since this was several years before the Mario Puzo's The Godfather was released, I had no idea what she was talking about but she was from Boston and apparently knew about 'The Mob".  I never asked Tony about this but it made me wonder if Toni Catucci's family was also in the mafia. 

Greg Cook

Linda, thanks for sharing your story. It seems like your mother's intuition was spot on. The purpose of the information I shared wasn't to throw dirt on anyone's reputation. I remember someone's offhand remarks and didn't give it much thought until I read an article in the LA Times about the corruption in LAPD in the 40s and early 50s. That's when the Brooklier family name came up. 

In a way, it tells another story of how sheltered we were growing up in Orange County during that time frame.

Greg Cook

Bob Mackinnon asked me to share this with you regarding the passing of Mike Leahy. 

Sandy, I received your recent message. You have my sincere condolences for your loss. Mike and I were in many of the same classes, and I hope that he and Mitch are now having a great time together.

Linda Marks (Bird)

Richard Maurer

It has been some time since I posted a Pacific Northwest travel video.  A visit to eastern Washington, an area that is sometimes called the Scablands.  During the last ice age, massive floods coming all of the way from Montana washed away soil and sedimentary rock in this area, leaving a rugged landscape of volcanic rock.

Linda Wonn (Carpenter)

Thank you Richard. What a wonderful video! How did you get those amazing aerial shots of the lake, the trail and your drive there.

Richard Maurer

Linda, thanks for the nice comment.  The aerial videos were obtained with a small drone.  I find it remarkable that I can use a drone to get this kind of video.  It is fun and it gives me a useful tool to tell a visual story about a place.

Linda Wonn (Carpenter)

I have seen drone photography before and yours seems to be very professional. And you are indeed a wonderful storyteller!

Linda Marks (Bird)

Greg Cook

“I woke up this morning and discovered I might be Canadian.

Not by choice, not by application — just… by bloodline. Which, in 2026, feels like winning the geopolitical lottery without buying a ticket.”

I didn’t change. I didn’t move. I didn’t apply for anything.

Yet suddenly, I might have a second country claiming me like a long‑lost cousin.

While the U.S. is having a very loud, very confused debate about who “counts,”

Canada is over here handing out citizenship like Oprah:

“You get a passport! You get a passport! Everyone with a Canadian mom gets a passport!”

Citizenship is supposed to be this sacred, rigid, identity‑defining thing.

But in practice?

It’s paperwork, timing, and which side of a line my mother happened to be born on.

“If the U.S. ever decides I’m not American enough, that’s fine.

I’ll just be over here in Canada, apologizing for things that aren’t my fault —

which, come to think of it, is likely the most American thing I’ve ever done.