Several families in our neighborhood, my wife, Lyn, and I are struggling with the passing of a great friend and an extended family member to us. Eight or nine years ago we became acquainted with a feline neighbor that had moved into our neighborhood with a family that lives about a block from our home.

His name was Guessie, and he quickly adjusted to his new surroundings. I often noticed him in yards or driveways. As winter approached I spotted him sitting in the front windows of neighbors’ houses within the full square block of our addition.

It took Guessie several months to understand that our dog, Stuart, enjoyed the company of friendly felines. Once they became friends things really changed around our house. One day I opened the backdoor to let Stuart in and Guessie followed him in, marched directly to the kitchen and gave me that look. I understood completely and started looking through the pantry for something that he might enjoy for dinner.

We quickly discovered that Guessie enjoyed canned tuna. He soon figured out that Stuart enjoyed a couple of meals of canned food each day. Guessie figured out that if he was in our house when Stuart’s meal was being prepared, he would enjoy a dish of tuna.

Over the years Guessie became a special part of our family. Quite often when Lyn and I would retire to our easy chairs in the living room, Stuart would curl up on one of our laps while Guessie generally occupied the other lap. He had 15 or more other favorite locations in our house to sleep. He would occupy that same spot for three or four days before moving to a different spot for a few days.

I don’t have any idea how many families enjoyed visits from him.

A couple of weeks ago he came in for breakfast and then took a nap until it was time for his second breakfast. Shortly after that he alerted me that he would like to go outside, which was a normal request from him.

Guessie was the only house-trained feline that I ever encountered. In all the years that he honored us with his company, we never found the need for a litter box. Guessie would slowly walk to a door and we would let him out. If his entire purpose was to relieve himself, he would return to one of the windows that he used to notify us of his desire to come back in.

That was the last time Guessie visited with us. We began to worry when we hadn’t seen his for a few days. I finally saw him in the driveway of another neighbor. I knew that Guessie also hung out with them quite a bit. I would see their garage door open a bit to allow him to enter and leave when he needed.

A couple of days later that neighbor stopped at our house to inform us that Guessie was sick and they had him in their garage. It was hard to see him in that condition. He recognized us and attempted to stand up a couple of times. We had planned on taking him to a veterinarian the following morning, but our neighbor came over later and told us Guessie had died. He is buried in an area of our backyard where a few other of our deceased pets have been laid to rest.

It will be a long time before Stuart and I are not looking for Guessie to stop by in the morning.

Many tears have been shed during the past couple of weeks. Guessie was an important part of our neighborhood. We are going to miss him.

I am a member of Southport High School’s Class of 1960, which is a remarkable class. We were one of just a couple of classes to attend high school in the buildings on Banta Road and Orinoco Avenue. Before the 1958-59 school year the building on Orinoco was Southport High.

The building on Banta was the junior high. Our class and the Class of 1959 spent years in both buildings when they were known as Southport High. At the beginning of the 1958-59 school year, Southport High moved to the Banta location, which was in conjunction to the opening of the new Southport Fieldhouse.

We didn’t have a class reunion for about 12 years. I think it was supposed to be a 10-year reunion, but it took a couple of years to get it organized and to locate some of our classmates. I had just moved back to Indianapolis from Southern California. I really enjoyed that first reunion. Over the years we have grown into a friendly group of classmates.

After that first reunion we followed with well-planned ones every 10 years. Then we started having one every five years. Now we have a reunion every year. The ones where the number of years past graduation end in a zero are a little fancier and last for a couple of days. We also hold monthly breakfasts and lunches.

Just this month I have attended a two-day reunion, a lunch, a breakfast and our homecoming football game at Bloomington South, which we won 35-28. We plan to get together for a basketball game later this school year.

Our quarterback, Eddie Schott, is doing a nice job. He completed 31-of-41 passes against the Panthers, and three of his receivers had more than 100 yards receiving. It was a beautiful night for a football game, and we had a great time. Our next big reunion will be in a couple of years. It’s always nice to see these friends and acquaintances.

The best is when a classmate who we haven’t seen for a long time has the opportunity to attend something with us. I am starting to compile a list of former classmates who haven’t attended any of our reunions for a long time (you know who your are). We have a couple of years to talk them into joining us for our 60th reunion. Our upcoming home games are at 7:30 p.m. Nov. 5 and 12. Plan to be at one of them. Maybe I’ll see you there.

Shonk is a 1960 graduate of Southport High School, a ’63 grad of Indiana Central College (now the University of Indianapolis) and a retired bus driver from Beech Grove Schools

I’m still thinking about some of my fondest Labor Day memories. When I was in school Labor Day came just before the start of school each year. As I remember we didn’t make a big deal out of the beginning of school then. I remember needing a couple of pencils, a notebook and maybe a ball point pen. Those things didn’t require a backpack.

If we needed to take books home to complete some homework, we carried them in our hands. No computers, tablets or cellphones. There was a bit of clothing shopping done and maybe a new pair of shoes. Our sleeping and morning schedules were slowly changed so that we had time for breakfast and to catch the school bus in a timely manner.

It wasn’t so difficult to be ready for the start of school by Labor Day. I sure remember the Labor Day 1963. That August I turned 21; I could go to a bar and vote, and I became a school bus driver. I was attending evening classes at Indiana Central College and working at our family service station business. I had a junior high and a high school route that went to Southport and a grade school route to Edgewood and Riley.

This past Labor Day was the 50th anniversary of my participation in the NHRA National drag races in Clermont, Ind. Some of my friends and I put together a 1960, nine-passenger Ford station wagon that we raced several times throughout that season. We accumulated enough winning points to be invited to race in the Nationals.

What an amazing four days. Sept. 7 was a special day as it was my late father’s birthday. The beginning of September was always busy for us as we had so much going on. Several years ago I stopped into the Southside Animal Shelter and met a young canine named Stuart. We hit it off quickly, and he was a member of our family before the day was over.

The folks at the shelter told me that Stuart was about 1 ½ years old. That year we celebrated his second birthday Sept. 7 because I figured I’d never forget Dad’s birthday. Stuart’s 14th birthday was last week. He has let it be known to everyone that because the ratio of dog to human years is around 7-to 1, dog birthdays should be known as dog “birth weeks.”

Stuart received many birthday wishes from his Facebook friends, and he allowed me to read some of them. He even received a hand delivered singing birthday card, which was driven to our house by a former congressman from Alaska.

Boy was Stuart impressed and surprised. I’m sure that we will make a few more trips to Ritter’s to celebrate his birth week. This week is also going to be exciting. We have been invited to birthday parties and weddings. Also, my high school class is having its yearly reunion. Plus, one of Stuart’s favorite events is this weekend - the Beech Grove Fall Festival. It is so much fun for him to reconnect with student/ friends who have read to him over the years at various Beech Grove Schools.

Shonk is a 1960 graduate of Southport High School, a ’63 grad of Indiana Central College (now the University of Indianapolis) and a retired bus driver from Beech Grove Schools.

It seems like for the past couple of weeks I have been bouncing back and forth between the present and when I was much younger. I think it all started with the passing of Aretha Franklin. The first thing that got my attention was that she and I are the same age.

That was sort of a surprise until it occurred to me that I have been listening to her wonderful music for a long time. I watched quite a bit of the television programming that honored her. I have a short list of songs that are special to me, and “Respect” is on that list.

I have it playing as I work on this column. I learned quite a bit about Aretha since her passing, and it’s easy for me to understand why so many people loved and admired her. Then we learned about the death of Sen. John McCain, and there was lots of television coverage about him.

It really got to me when I learned that he and I were in the military at the same time. Our duties were different, of course, as he was a prisoner of war for more than six years. I was scheduled to enlist into the Army National Guard Nov. 23, 1963, but with President John F. Kennedy being assassinated the day before, my enlistment was pushed back four days. Many businesses were closed, and the military and law enforcement were on red alert.

I remember watching all the news and later the funeral coverage on our television. I can still close my eyes and see the image of Kennedy’s wife, children and family. John F. Kennedy Jr. – almost 3 at the time – saluting his father’s casket is something I won’t forget.

This was my first experience at watching a televised funeral procession. I was a member of the Guard for six years. It seems impossible that McCain was a POW for the same amount of time that I was enlisted.

On Saturday morning I was watching the local morning news when the network broke in and aired McCain’s funeral. My plan was to watch for a short while and then get busy with some chores ... but I couldn’t stop watching. All of the speakers and musicians were amazing. Near the end of the service I noticed some people setting up some chairs and music stands.

Several musicians took their seats and Renee Fleming stepped up and started singing McCain’s favorite song, “Danny Boy,” which is also one of my favorites. Anytime I listen to it I recall special things about my father. My father and I share the middle name of Daniel. He and my mom used their first and middle names all through their lives.

My dad was known to some people as “Floyd.” He was called “Danny” by others. Because of his red hair, he was known to many others as “Red.” My mother was “Mary” to many of her friends and “Elizabeth” to most of her family. She also was “Betty” to lots of folks.

I was totally confused when I was young. Between the passing of these two special people and listening to their funerals, I often needed to grab a Kleenex. After McCain’s funeral was over I visited with a good friend/neighbor who had also watched the funeral.

I told him that I had emptied a Kleenex box while viewing the funeral. He responded that he had used paper towels. “They lasted longer” was his explanation.