Stephen Bird

Tom lived one house down from Greg ( my brother) and I on Wilson. We attended Howard Elementary, Adams Jr. High and DHS and played various sports together. He  enjoyed playing  football and basketball. Him and his brother Bob, would play catch with his Dad after dinner and we would join in. Or I would see him shooting basketballs through the attached basket to his garage. I will always remember his family would have a "haunted garage" during Halloween which would scare the living daylights out of the neighborhood children!   According to his brother Bob, Tom went to the Univerity of New Mexico and became a general contractor building apartments. He became a landlord and maintenance man of one of his apartments he built. Tom enjoyed traveling to other countries during the winter months. According to Bob, Tom never married or had children but had some heart issues for the past few years which included having a heart oblation surgery. His closest friend was Curtis Sharfenaker as they met at Adams Jr. High and their bond was forged through DHS and beyond. For those who knew Tom, he was overall a nice guy. Even though I lost contact of Tom after high school, my memories of him will never be forgotten. 

Laura Van Faasen

I am sorry to hear of Tom's passing.  We were in a few classes together and became very casual chums over the years.  Tom always seemed a clean cut, good and unassuming kind of guy.  He had a crooked, yet most delightful wide smile.  Tom was a rare gem.

Donald McAlpine (DHS '69)

Hi Stan,

  My deepest sympathy for Tom and his family.

 I contacted a few of Tom's brother's classmates from DHS class of '68 that were in the band. They had not remained in contact with Bob. I looked for Bob on facebook and zabba but no dice. I remember Tom because when I would pass him in the hall or on the street, we would exchange greetings, based on my friendship with Bob.

  Bob and I were in the .67 version of the DHS Big Band that went to Houston for the international Kiwanas Convention. On an off day, when we had no performances, we went sightseeing to a rodeo and a barbecue at a huge kidney-shaped pool. It was so large that two girls were water skiing. Later that day we ended up at the Gulf of Mexico. I hopped out of the bus first and ran up to the shack where a guy was renting surfboards. He wanted $5. I told him I was the youngest member of the band (just out of 10th grade). If I could show the other guys how easy it is to surf, it would generate more business. I struck a deal that my rental was free if I could make it happen. I asked him to give me a short verbal lesson. I hit the water and rowed out about 300 yards. I turned around and waited for a good wave. I started paddling for shore quickly when a large wave was coming. I was able to catch it and then I just followed the directions. I hung ten toes over the front of the board to increase my speed to keep on the front of the wave as it pushed me along. It lifted me into the air. When I was fully on it, I moved towards the back. My left foot was pointed straight ahead, my right foot was pointed sideways. A push with my toes would correct to the right. A push with my heel would correct to the left. My arms were straight out for balance. I was tearing along, six feet in the air. The wave diminished as I neared the shore. Just then, in the shallows near the beach, Bob's head popped out of the water; right in front of me. He had been laying on his back with nose plugs on. My board was aimed right at his neck. I was closing fast and too close to turn the board enough to avoid hitting him in the neck. I dove on the board, grabbed it with both hands and rolled over onto my back. I was dumped hard on the beach and rolled over a few times. The upperclassmen thought I was a goof, who didn't know what he was doing. They laughed and yelled, "Wipeout". I had to pay the guy with the surfboards. No one wanted to try it after seeing me get thrown up on the beach like a jack mackerel.