You can never take Nevada out of the girl

Maybe this fits under the category of simple flotsam and jetsam. The Oct. 23 picture of the "rehearsing Sleeping Beauty" on your virtual front page took me back in time to a small town (35,000 residents strong then) in a galaxy far far away (well OK, it's only 550 miles).

I went to Carson High with that young lady's parents and I still keep in touch with them even though I no longer live anywhere near what used to be known as "Park Terrace."

I went to school with the guy who currently occupies the associate editor position at your paper, only I doubt he'd remember me (but then again ... a last name like Cerfoglio .... ya never know). In 1988 I traded the steep walls of Eagle Valley for the rambling edges of the Willamette Valley (now there's a word to pronounce ... you think we natives get touchy about pronouncing Nevada? Try saying Will-um-Etty to an Or-egg-oh-knee-un) and I lived along the banks of the Willamette for 12 years (here's a news flash gang ... rivers that are bigger than the Carson or the Truckee really do exist!) in both Portland and Salem.

I now make my home in southern California, the place that almost every grad of good ol' CHS is certain they are going to escape to "some day." What was my point in all of this rambling? No matter where I go. No matter how much the scenery changes. It seems there is always something that brings me back to that area "out in the land of the setting sun" and "in the heart of the golden west" (just exactly what is a rill anyway?).

Your story on Ms. Allen did just that, further proving that you can take the girl out of Nevada but you can never take Nevada out of the girl and at least for this CHS class of '84 grad. "Home Means Nevada To Me."