Wagner High Online Alumni

In Memoriam - Mentors

 SM/SGT Thomas Allen
Memories From Will Allen '74
Submitted on September 29, 2002

My Father Passed Away (Picture taken Clark, AFB 1970). He died as a result of biological contamination due to Agent Orange, while on duty in Vietnam. He was a great Dad, and coached the "Clark AFB Raiders" Football team. For all that knew him, they all will say, he was a man of compassion. In our house, Clark AFB, I took this picture of my Dad. Will Allen (Wagner High /Middle School 1968-1973)
 SM/Sgt Joe Bomgren

Memories from Donna Bomgren '79 (Daughter)

 I wanted to add to the "in memory" list my father Joe Bomgren.  Many of my friends new him as "coach".  He was a football coach in 1976 & 77 for the Cowboys and the Giants.  He was girls softball coach for the Yankees and coached for the Allstar Team as well.   He died tragically in an automobile accident on June 9th, 2001.

 M/Sgt (Ret) Gerald Davis

Memories from Lena McClellan '75 (Daughter)
Submitted on 5/9/01

There are so many wonderful memories I have of my dad.  He was my hero, my teacher and my best friend.  I miss him so very much.  
I love you dad!

 T/Sgt  Ernest W. Jones

Memories from Mary Jones Harris (Daughter)
Submitted on 8/14/01

My wisest mentor and my greatest friend was my dad.  He pushed me through school and when I thought times were getting rough he was always there with me to see it through.  I lost him February 16, 1996  to cancer.  If not for him I would not be where I am today.  He always saw the best in me and because of him, anything was achievable.  I no longer have him here to guide me in body...but he will always be with me in sprit.  I love you and miss you dad.

 Beverly Ruff
Memories from Lorin Denice Ruff (daughter)
Submitted on03/07/2008

We are deeply sadden by our mother's passing. Those who knew her back in the days of the P. I know that she was the sweetest person in the world. We were so lucky to have us as our mother . She was our hero. Always supported us in everything we did. She was our rock. It is so hard for us to talk about her at this time.
Lorin Denice Ruff Welsh

Snug Harbor park ranger lauded by NYPD
Wednesday, February 27, 2008

STATEN ISLAND, N.Y. -- Former Staten Islander Beverly Ann Ruff, 59, of Hampton, Va., a retired administrative assistant, died Saturday in Sentara CarePlex Hospital, Hampton.

Born Beverly Ann Scott in Queens, she moved to New Brighton in 1988 and to New Springville in 1999. She relocated to Hampton in 2003.

She graduated from Newtown High School in the Elmhurst section of Queens.

Mrs. Ruff was an administrative assistant at SI Bank & Trust's branches in Castleton Corners, New Springville and West Brighton for 14 years. Simultaneously, she worked part time as a park ranger at Snug Harbor Cultural Center, Livingston.

In January 1995, the NYPD recognized two rangers, including Park Ranger Ruff, for their help in arresting three vandals who allegedly damaged Snug Harbor property. She retired from both her jobs in June 2003, due to illness.

"My mom was a strong person," said her daughter, Lorin D. Ruff Welsh. "She battled her illness for six years, up until the very end.

"She just loved her children and her grandchildren, loved to go to Miller Field and watch her grandchildren play soccer, and bowl at Rab's Country Lanes. Every day when she woke up, it was about her kids and her grandkids."

Mrs. Ruff enjoyed traveling, especially to visit her grandchildren who lived in Charleston, S.C. She also enjoyed shopping at the Staten Island Mall, New Springville.

While on Staten Island, she attended Sacred Heart R.C. Church, West Brighton.

In addition to her daughter, Mrs. Ruff is survived by her husband of 42 years, retired Air Force Master Sgt. Norman Ruff; her sons, Air Force Tech. Sgt. Gary Nolan Ruff and Air Force Master Sgt. Gerald Scott Ruff; her brothers, Edward R. and David L. Scott; her sister, Alberta E. Joseph, and eight grandchildren.

There will be a funeral mass Saturday at 1 p.m. in Langley Air Force Base Chapel, Hampton. Burial will be March 18 in Arlington National Cemetery. The Parklawn-Wood Funeral Home, Hampton, is handling the arrangements.

 Frank McQuaid

Memories from Gary McQuaid '64 (Son)

When I was a child
    Seen by dad's friends,
They'd shake their heads
    And marvel aloud,
"There is no doubt of
    Whose son he is!"
You see they all said I looked
    Just like my dad.

When I was a lad
    With friend at play,
We'd dream of men
    We'd be like some day.
And when we would choose,
    I'd always say,
"I want to grow up and be
    Just like my dad."

He is a just man
    And honest too,
And men like him
    They are but a few.
And when I am grown,
    I want to be
A man of integrity,
    Just like my dad.

So now I'm a man,
    And I can see
Much of my dad
    Reflected in me.
And it would be grand
    If my son said,
"I want to grow up and be
    Just like my dad."

Christmas 1985
Gary McQuaid
for dad, Frank McQuaid
(The last lines of the last verse was written hopefully)

 Col. Jean  "Conrad" Seagroves
Memories From Jenny Seagroves '81
Submitted on Setpember 30, 2002

My whole life I heard my Dad speak volumes without saying a word.
My Dad was a whistler.

He had all different whistles that expressed his emotions.  I don't know how to make the same sounds, but everyone who knew my Dad, knows how they sounded.

It is a style of whistling that is from the older generation. My generation
would probably call it "old school" whistling.

There was the commanding whistle of warning that we heard as kids that could stop you in your tracks. This was the type of whistle that could stop a kid from darting into traffic. If we thought that we could stomp away from dad while muttering under our breath, being a snotty kid and you heard that whistle of authority call you back, you knew that you had pushed things a little too far.

If we needed to be rounded up in the evening, there was the two finger whistle that you could hear from a few blocks away, that we knew was our Dad (other families had their own sound).

There was the exasperated whistle of trying to keep things in check.

There was the whistle of exclamation.

I know that even sometimes his whistle could be annoying to some (wink to my stepmom)

One of the favorites that us kids always have a bit of fun with had been the whistle that he did to relax if he was feeling stressed while navigating his car.  My husband can impersonate this one perfectly (I can sing it: who who whooo)

My Dad could hold his hand out of the car window and get the wind to blow just right on his USNA54 class ring and even make the ring whistle.

But what I heard the most often was when my Dad was feeling content or upbeat.  He would whistle the most beautiful vibrato melodies.  I always heard these when we held hands and walked.  This is what I really miss already and makes me cry, holding hands with Dad and hearing him whistle. Those times will always be my most treasured memories.  That is where I always connected with the special comfort that only can come from a loving father.

Sometimes I hear that same beautiful style of whistling. It's usually about two rows over in a grocery store. I know that if were to go look, it would be coming from an older gentleman with silver hair like my Dad's??.

 S/Sgt Jack Christian Von Bloeker
Memories from Paul Baker '51
Submitted on 11/22/2004

The following information is on S/Sgt Jack Christian Von Bloeker. He was the principal of the Military Dependent School at Clark Field in 1947 and 1948.  He was born 11 Jul 1909 and died 29 March 1991.  He is buried at the National Memorial Cemetary of Arizona in Phoenix Arizona in Plot 22B,2.
(This information is from www.findagrave.com).

Our family was in Manila living at Camp Marikina at the time and my sister and I were going to the American School on Donata Street in Pasay.  My father was to be transferred to Fort Stotsenberg/Clark Field in November 1947 and his main concern was the education there.  I guess he checked out
Sgt Von Bloeker and liked what he learned.  Of course the other option was to board at a religious institution and continue our education at the American School.  My first day of school found my sister and I on a bus, which passed by our house quarters #94, for the mile or so drive to the school.  I was toting a pile of books I had used in Manila and was supposed to show them to the principal Sgt von Bloeker.  When I arrived at the school I was directed to his office. He looked over the stack of books, at least 10 of them, and thumbed through each one and then announced "we don't use any of these."  He gave me 3 more books all EMs; 1 was algebra, 1 was civics, and I think the last was for Spanish.  At the end of the day (1200) I had to carry them all back home because I missed the bus.  At that time all the
buses were olive drab and I never rode another bus for the rest of my time at Stotsenberg/Clark.  Sgt von Bloeker was a very even tempered person but I only had one instance of being reprimanded by him and that was for laughing in class.  I guess he was just passing by and he stepped to the door and asked me to come outside.  He wanted to know what was so funny and I don't think I said anything.  He went into a monolgue about quietness in class because others were trying to study and I never got a word in edgewise. He then said something like 'We don't have to say anything to your father about this, do we?  End of conversation.  I heard from a few of my friends that this was the way he handled disapline - they had experienced the same thing.

There is a short writeup in the 3 Dec 1948 issue of the Clark Crier about Sgt von Bloeker and his plans upon leaving Clark Field on 28 Nov 1948 to return to the States.  It is on the front page at the bottom of column 1. I'll bet he was successful at what he wanted to accomplish.

'til later.............Paul (47-48) '51

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