The following members of the Pacific High School community have Gone Beyond:

Bartlett, Martin (staff)

Berger, David Lewis (99)....................Obituary............Remembering David Berger

Bougher, Dan ('69)

Brown, Jerald R.

Drulis, Ripple (staff)

Effross, Mark (staff).................................In Memorium

Feinstein (Howe), Frankie

Galbraith, Bruce

Gillespie, Gideon

Graham, Ceacyl (staff)

Granatowski (Pazos), Donna ('97)

Granatowski, Tony ('04) ....................... Obituary

Gray, Stuart ('92)

Hedemark, Earl

Hind, Ellen

Huggins, Chris ('97)

Katona, Elspeth.................................... Note from Steve

Katz, Tom

Kirkish, Merton

Locke, Toby (circa '87)

Megargee, Tim

Moore, David ('97)...........................Memorial

Moore, James

O'Hara, Mike ('96)

Page, Jeffie

Pillsbury, Tom

Prael, Beth

Pulliam, Nancy

Quinn, Suzi

Runage, John

Ryback,Michael

Shuman, Bill

St. Clair, Nick

Strain, Alan ('03) ............................ Obituary ............. Remembrances

Steffins, Bob

Street, Michael

Stutzman, David ('85)

Taulbee, Milton

Wilsher, Becka


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My Step-Dad Tony Granatowski

To say that Tony Granatowski was one of the most wonderful humans to walk this earth does not do him justice; he is deserving of so much more.

I am the stepdaughter of Tony and I grieve every single day. Tony was compassionate, caring, hard-working and self-sacrificing.

The world is missing a wonderful man.

 

I have known Tony since I was in kindergarten in Lake Oswego when I would play with his youngest daughter, Emilee.

After Tony and Donna moved to Arizona for Donna’s cancer treatment, Emilee and I stayed in contact.

Tony, Emilee and Jessica moved back to Lake Oswego after the tragic death of their wife and mother.

As two single parents, my mother, Katherine, and Tony helped each other out in any way they could.

Tony took care of me and my mom took care of Emilee and Jessica and our two families often cooked dinners together.

It wasn’t until years later that my mom and Tony began a romantic relationship and the two were married in October of 2000 at

Our Lady of the Lake Catholic Church in Lake Oswego.

 

After their marriage, my mom and Tony expanded and remodeled our home to help blend our families.

They put their heart and soul into every single aspect of designing and manually constructing the house.

They spent hundreds of hours going to nurseries, buying exotic plants, and landscaping the yard into a beautiful garden.

Each plant had a meaning and many were gifts that they gave to each other. When the house was finished, it was incredible.

It was obvious how much love the two of them put into their work together.

 

At the beginning of my mom and Tony’s marriage, I was a young adolescent and I was immature, rude, and sometimes outright cruel.

Tony and I did not have the best relationship due to my inconsiderate behavior, yet he continued to love me as his own child.

It was not all fights between the two of us, but I wish that I could tell him how much I truly cared, and still care about him.

By the end of my sophomore year in high school, I grew up. Tony and I were friends and we enjoyed each other’s company.

We would stay up late talking in the kitchen eating the wonderful leftovers from his dinners.

I will always miss his fantastic cooking and his incredible ability to whip up amazing meals when I tried to claim that there was nothing to eat.

Tony began to teach me how to golf over the summer and I wish he was here to teach me now.

We had many jokes together and I can still hear him poking fun and me or my mom.

 

In November of my junior year in high school, I was in a terrible car accident; and although Tony had just gotten back into town from traveling for his job

and was sound asleep, he and my mother immediately drove to the hospital to sit with me through the night.

As a child, Tony had been in a bad car accident and he related to me throughout the process and helped me greatly.

I still suffer from orthopedic problems from the accident and I would give anything to have Tony here to talk to about it.

 

Immediately after the car accident, my entire family became sick with the flu, but unfortunately, Tony never recovered.

He became more and more sick and was diagnosed with terminal cancer right before Christmas. One month later, Tony passed away

early in the morning on January 24, 2004 with my mother holding him close.

 

It breaks my heart that by the time Tony and I were bonding, he was taken away from those who loved him dearly and those who were yet to be blessed

by his presence. Tony Granatowski was an incredible person who gave his all to those around him. He loved people unconditionally and worked incredibly hard to protect and provide for his family. He was kind, caring, loving, intelligent, and funny. There are not words to express the wonderful nature of Tony.

Only those who knew him know the incredible loss that this world has suffered.

 

Claire Von Derau

Lake Oswego, Oregon

January 24, 2006

 

 

 

Dear PHS,

Tony Granatowski was one of my best friends for a decade, yet I never met him in real life. He was one of the early players at a place called the Internet Gaming Zone, now known as www.zone.com. The IGZ pre-dated Windows 95 and browsers and the world wide web. It was a place where one could drop in and play a few card games and, in our case, make friends and be part of an actual, if virtual, community. I, and countless others, developed lasting friendships with Tony, whom we all knew as "Potz" from his years-long web nickname, potrzebie. We played hundreds of games of spades and hearts on the internet gaming zone, shared thousands of jokes -- mostly corny -- and spent hours and hours trying to out-pun each other. But it was more than that. We shared pictures and stories of our families, sought and got advice about life's trials no matter how big or trivial, and even called each other on the phone to talk in person when times got tough.

As you mentioned, Tony was fun, witty, charming, and so smart! Potz knew so much about music, and as much about old 60's soul and Motown as I did, and I grew up in
Detroit. Behind the humor, he was a sensitive and caring guy, always willing to take the time to help out people new to the zone, regardless of how much time it took from his own playing. When Donna was so ill, back in the mid to later 1990's, I think Tony took some refuge in our little on-line community, late at night after his then little girls were asleep. Online, he found a place to put aside what must have been tremendous pressure and grief over his impending loss -- a place to just kick back for a little while, laugh a little, rant and rave about politics, talk about music, tell a lot of jokes, correct each others' diction and spelling, and complain (a lot) about Windows and Microsoft and Bill Gates.

(Insert smiley face emoticon here).

Later, after finding the second love of his life in Katherine, moving back to
Oregon, and watching his daughters grow into their teen years, he shared with us his joy and his newfound happiness. He taught me how to play golf on line, and even had tips to correct my real-life slice which almost worked. I know his kids' birthdays, shared the pain of Donna's illness and death, the release and resolve he felt as he moved his family from Scottsdale back to Oregon and his unabashed joy when he "re-met" and eventually married Katherine. I heard all about his anxieties as Jess and Emilee grew old enough to get their drivers licenses, his pride when Jess was accepted at NYU, and all about the new house in Lake Oswego, so painstakingly rehabbed in his "spare" time.

Over the past couple years, both Tony and I drifted away somewhat from our online community. We kept in touch through occasional emails, swapping jokes and family news. My last note from Tony was -- how typical is this -- a Polish joke he forwarded to me in December '03, the month before he died. Today, while catching up on old correspondence, I realized I hadn't heard from my good friend Potz in way too long. My email note to him bounced back. I knew something was wrong, because Tony and I always kept each other's addresses current. Google brought me to your website, and the shocking news of this past January when Tony died. I thank you for your touching obituary and tribute to our mutual friend. Although my relationship with Tony was merely virtual, my sense of loss is very real.

It feels a bit odd, writing to his high school alma mater, and telling stories about a man whom I knew so well, yet never met. I envy you, his classmates, who knew him in person and could, no doubt, sense his warmth and caring, and his easy, friendly manner firsthand. But I wanted you to know about this virtual side of Tony G. -- the friend so many of us know as Potz -- and to tell you that hundreds of us out here in the ether of the Internet will miss him, too.

"DetroitDave"

Dave Taylor
Ashland,
Missouri
September, 2004.

 

 

 

Anthony John Granatowski

02/02/04 The Oregonian (w/ edits by Robin Bee and Claire Von Derau)


A Memorial Mass was held on Saturday, Feb. 7, 2004, at Our Lady of the Lake Catholic Church in

Lake Oswego, Oregon, for Anthony John Granatowski, who died suddenly of Cancer on Jan. 24 at age 50.
Tony was born Sept. 17, 1953, in Oceanside, Calif.

He was a student at Pacific High School in California from fall of 1969 to June of 1970. Tony

was an incredible guitarist and musician and was always hanging with other musicians and jamming
away. He spent some time living in the Green Dome with Efross, et al, and at Horney Mountain with
Bob, Jonathan, Lorna and Alan.

Tony was gregarious, outgoing, and always a happy person.  He returned to

Southern CA. after Pacific, where he met the love of his life, Donna Pazos, in the restaurant

business. They married, and moved to Lake Oswego about 1988.They moved to Scottsdale,
Ariz. for treatment in the mid 90's while Donna was fighting Cancer, before returning to Lake
Oswego in 1997 where she died during the PHS 1st All-School Reunion in August 1997. I was lucky
enough to meet and get to know her for a few months. They were really something, together!

Those of you who were at the reunion should remember the fundraiser we had for the Susan B.

Konen Breast Cancer Research program, in Donna's name. In 2000 he married Katherine Von Derau,
Donna's best friend, whose kids had grown up together with theirs. He did make it to the Reunion in 2002
and had a ball catching up with everybody over the weekend. Tony was the one who heroically drove to
the flatlands late Friday night and procured hundreds of pounds (?) of cheeses, crackers and
other goodies for the Saturday gathering. We certainly had plenty to eat!

 We had a small, fun regional PHS gathering hosted by Tony and Katherine at their place about 4 weeks after the

2002 reunion, with Pete Moss, Dorothy Detsch, Kurt Nebel, Wendy Temko, and Aron Helligas.
The expansion and remodeling of their home had just been finished after 6 years of construction chaos.

Tony and Katherine worked side-by-side to complete the project and it really looked great.

He was director of business analysis and systems integration for Food Services of America (computer whiz kid),

and is survived by his wife Katherine; daughters, Jessica and Emilee; stepchildren Michael and Clair and sister, Karen Hetzel.

Unfortunately, I did not get a chance to say goodbye. I will miss his good-nature and ready

laugh. Robin Bee (Bloomgarden)

If anyone else would like to contribute recollections about Tony send them in please.







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Dear Pacific High School folks;

    As you may have heard, Alan Strain passed away peacefully on
August 26th at home in Santa Cruz, with all his family around him.
He had suffered a few strokes in the last few years compounded by
congestive heart failure, and as sad as we are to say goodbye, we
feel that perhaps he was ready to move on.
    Alan helped to found Pacific High School in 1962, and taught
math there for the first few years of the school's existence as well
as handling important organizational duties.  I think he had a
profound influence on many students.
    The family is planning a memorial service on Saturday,
September 13th at 10 am at the Santa Cruz Friends meeting at 220
Rooney St.
(take the Morrisey exit off highway 1, south of Santa
Cruz
).  All are welcome to come for the opportunity to share memories
and feelings about Alan.

    Most sincerely, Laurie Friedman (Alan's inherited daughter
and PHS student 1962-3)  You may call for more information at (530) 758-9668

 

 

 


In Memoriam
Mark Efross
1953 - 1991

Mark Efross was a central figure from Pacific High School's middle to late years, first as a student and later a staff member. He was a man of humor, warmth and great individual style. He loved music, movies, read widely and always had the juiciest gossip. He was one of the best friends that I will have, and I say this in spite of the fact that he eventually took up golf. He was also an addict who fought a battle with cocaine for most of his adult life.

By the time that I arrived at Pacific in the spring of 1970, it had already become a "national school" with students - many the childrenof the hip and well to do - from around the country. I felt very much out of place as a local and a scholarship student. Mark described his first take on me years later - lonely, looking lost but trying to seemaloof, smoking Virginia Slims and wearing all the wrong clothes.

Mark, on the other hand was always "the man" (as my twenty two year old son would say). Even then he hung out with the staff, acted liked he owned the place. If you were in with Mark, he could get you anything. He had the best pot, or could line you up with a spot in a dry dome. It was a big day for me, a watershed moment, when Mark decided to befriend and watch out for me. From then on I felt that I had a home and a brother in it.

Our relationship was cemented by a semi-apocryphal event that occurred near the beginning of that first summer, when Mark decided he would teach me how to drive in his VW van. We drove up to the top of the ridge road. Mark put me behind the wheel, stuck it in second gear and told me to steer it down to the parking lot. As the speed picked up I lost control around a curve and the van went over the steep side, stopped by a tree about five yards down. I saw it coming and ducked, Mark went through the windshield. He survived that crash with a few scars, but the van was totaled. A meeting was held and a restitution plan was arrived at. The school would reimburse Mark for the value of his van, but he and I would each be responsible for a portion of it. We would both have to work at the school for the summer, and I would commute to my job at a nursing home - a very graceful way to address the fact that neither of us had homes we wanted to return to. (Pause here for a minute for your favorite Mark memory)

Over the years, I heard the stories about his pre-Pacific years. He had run away from his home near D.C. at fourteen and bummed around the Caribbean. By the time he was found and brought home, his parents were thrilled with Pacific as an option. (His parents are wonderful people who he loved and was close to in adulthood) He always seemed much older than his years. It's hard to say when exactly he stopped being a student and went on staff. It's harder to say exactly what he did as staff. He was always just there, taking care of things, sort of like a highly socially adept Radar or Milo Minderbinder.

It was in the later years, when Pacific had stopped paying staff or accepting tuition and become a "self-sufficient educational community" that Mark crashed and burned for the first time. It was discovered that Mark had been putting the proceeds from a school business that he ran up his nose. Many people pleaded for a second chance for him at the community meeting held to discuss the problem. It was hard to imagine Mark without Pacific, or the community without him. But the offense was too large, the betrayal too great and Mark was exiled from paradise. The school didn't survive for too long afterward, not that there was necessarily a relationship.

After that, Mark evolved a pattern to his life of business successes flamboyantly destroyed. He did have a great business sense, too. His D.C. based answering service called Detente flourished with the end of the cold war, before he poured all the assests up his nose. But he also conned and betrayed many friends. Mark always protected me from his "evil" self. He never burned me for a dime, was careful to be in good shape when he got in touch. Sometimes six months or a year would go by, but I knew I would hear from him eventually, knew the stories would be bad, but that would all be in the past by the time he called.

Our friendship taught me alot about addiction. He really struggled with it, 12 stepped it, sweated it out, went cold turkey many times, but fell back. A few years ago I started volunteering with the AIDS prevention needle exchange program in Oakland where I live. From that I was introduced to the concept of harm reduction. The idea is to take drug use out of the either/or, black/white, bad/good dichotomy and see it for what it is for alot of people - a life long road of peaks and valleys with the hope of some even terrain up ahead.

In the last few years of his life Mark had moved towards some level ground and his own forms of harm reduction. He made amends with most of the folks he had burned over the years. He worked as a telecommunications consultant (his business card had a picture of a large man in a superhero suit emblazoned: THE COMMUNICATOR), so if he fell, he didn't take anyone else with him. He had a relationship with a wonderful woman who I finally met at his memorial. But he spoke of the fact that he couldn't "master" coke as a rat that ate at his soul.

I know that some of his friends may be horrified at me talking about his drug problems in a memorial to him. But it was a central fact of his life, just like his big heart, his great sense of humor and his dedication to his friends. To me, remembering Mark without talking about drugs is like portraying Roosevelt without his wheelchair - it may not be pretty but you miss a big part of the picture without it.

Mark died of a heart attack in his sleep in his New York City apartment. He is remembered and missed by family and many friends.

 

Jan Gilbrecht


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David Lewis Berger

October 30, 1949 - May 18, 1999

David Lewis Berger died at San Francisco General Hospital after a brief illness.

Born in New Haven, Connecticut, David lived there until he was 15, and attended the Foote School. During those years his theatrical flair and beautiful boy soprano voice led to his active participation in local productions, including parts in two Gilbert and Sullivan musicals. He also sang in a church choir, played ice hockey, and designed and built model cars.

In 1965 David moved with his family to Santa Cruz, and attended Santa Cruz High School and the Pacific High School in San Mateo County. there he gave himself to music, and although he was a talented artist and writer, jazz and blues were his first love and became his life. He took up the saxophone, guitar, and harmonica, and quickly developed into an accomplished blues harp player, performing with Elvin Bishop and other Bay Area bands. His soulful improvisations caught the ear of John Lee Hooker, on whose album, "Endless Boogie," David was invited to play. He also toured Europe with Professor Longhair and band, and later, he performed an extended stint as half of a New Orleans street duo with blues legend Babe Stovall. Stovall was his friend and mentor; his music and his spirit changed David's life.

During the early 1980's David invented and developed a new system of visual signs for teaching the harmonica, which he introduced in the classes he taught at different times in Santa Cruz. In 1984 he co-wrote and performed the musical score of the film "Hard Travellin'." Returning to the guitar in later years, he composed songs in various genres, including several big band and blues ballads. From the late 1960s on, he was a avid record collector, building up an extraordinary library of blues and jazz - rare 78 and 33 rpm records - that reflected his unique tastes and his love of music history.

For much of his adult life David lived and worked in San Francisco, but he also spent periods in the New Orleans area and Austin, Texas, as well as in Guerneville, Merced, and Santa Cruz. He received solace from walking in the woods and by the sea. In recent years he was plagued by bouts of mental illness, but continued to play guitar and study. He was helped during this difficult period by many good friends whose love and care sustained him, and to whom his family is deeply grateful.

David is survived by his father, Harry, his sisters, Caroline and Cynthia, and his nephew, Ezra. He was preceded in death by his mother, Marguerite Long Berger, and his older brother, Thomas Harry Berger.

 

(obituary published in the S.F. Chronicle, 5/30/99)


Elspeth Katona

For those who don't know, Elspeth died a tragic death on April 16, 1990,
just months short of her 21st birthday.

She was a complex, talented young woman, driven to success,
never quite satisfied with her achievments.

She graduated from the Culinary Institute of America in Poughkipsee, N.Y.
in 1989 and was working as an assistant chef at the time of her death.

(from Steve Katona)



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