The Email posted 9/29/05 from R. Duncan Lockey(LHS ' 65), a Fighting Scot from
Laurinburg about Pitt Hinson (RHS ' 66) brought back flashes from the past buried
deep in my memory vault and adds to the mysteries that life can sometimes throw at
you.  Those memories carry me back to my teenage years of growing up in my small
hometown of Rockingham where everyone was a good guy and all times were good
times.

   I first remember Pitt as the tall, skinny ninth grader with the pretty smile.  In fact,
Pitt's smile was like a yawn.  Have you ever noticed that when someone around you
yawns, so do you?  Well, Pitt's smile had that same effect.  When Pitt smiled at you,
you automatically smiled at her.  Pitt, Jennine Hough(RHS ' 66), and Betty Gore(RHS
' 66) were all taller than me in the ninth grade.  Never did that situation ever occur in
my grammar school at Roberdel; I was at least as tall as the tallest girl.  However, I did
not let the tall girl syndrome intimidate me because I had the mailman conversation
piece.  Yes, my dad Cecil McDonald( RHS ' 41) carried Pitt's mail.  "Hi, my name is
Bobby McDonald, my Daddy is your mailman."  That line made many friends for me
in high school and it worked on Pitt.  Her smile was genuine and was just a physical
display of her warm, caring personality.  Pitt never missed an opportunity to shout out
my name and wave and smile wherever our paths crossed.  I began to envision myself
stepping up onto the first doorstep of Pitt's front porch to get a good-night kiss.  Only
one object stood in the way of my fantasy - Ken Smith(RHS ' 64).  Ken was the Drum
Major of the Marching Rockets.  He must have looked like a knight in shining armor
to Pitt wearing that white uniform with the tall hat.  He barked out commands like
General George Patton as he directed the precise marching and instrument playing
Rockets.  I got to know Ken well.  His mother was principal at Roberdel Grammar
School where I attended.  Mrs. Theo Smith was a strict disciplinarian.  She swung a
mean paddle back when it was legal and actually encouraged by parents, years before
socialists decided a paddling would ruin a child for life.  Consequently, Mrs. Smith
never spared the rod and spoiled the child. She had a pretty mean stroke and was an
effective switch-hitter when you had to bend over and she stepped up to the plate.  
However, I think that Mrs. Smith had a little more power with her right swing than
her left.  Likewise, I am sure her character molding philosophy did not cut off when
she cut the office light off to go home.  Mrs. Smith kept Ken's head on straight and
made a good guy out of him.  Ken seemed to be the perfect match for Pitt; they both
reveled in simply being in each other's company.  As a result, it did not take very long
for me to give up on the idea of climbing up on that first porch step.  Where you saw
Pitt, you saw Ken and where you saw Ken you saw Pitt.  Both became my good friends
and remained good friends throughout high school.

   During the semester of my Junior or maybe it was my Senior year at NC State, I
stumbled into a big surprise.  Whom did I happen to run into changing classes but Pitt
Hinson herself!  We had not seen each other since the night of our high school
graduation.  Wow!  That skinny leg, tall brunette with the big smile had grown into a
gorgeous knock-your-socks-off woman who hugged me right then and there in the
middle of mad rushing foot traffic in the broad open daylight with a squeeze like I was
Ed MacMahon and had just knocked on her door with the Reader's Digest
sweepstakes check.  Double wow!!  I was thrilled to see her again and got her
dormitory room number and visited her that evening to catch up on lost times.  She
had enrolled college at a smaller school(Wingate, I think) and decided to become a
veterinarian.  Pitt always loved animals and riding her horse was one of her favorite
pastimes. As a result of her career decision, Pitt transferred to State to get her degree.  
With an undergraduate degree from State, more doors would open for Vet School.

   On the rare occasions I would go home for the weekend, I would ride with my
suitemate and life-long childhood friend Wayne Ussery(RHS ' 66).  Wayne went
home every weekend to see Peggy(Rohanen High ' 66) his hometown sweetheart and
now wife of thirty-five plus years.  John Zimmerman(RHS ' 66) my college roommate
rode with Wayne every weekend to see his high school sweetheart and our high
school classmate Margie Bristow(RHS ' 66).  I eventually lost my roommate when
Margie marched John down the aisle thirty-seven years ago plus ago and still
counting.  Ken Crouch(RHS ' 66) on rare occasions, one or two classmates from
Wadesboro as well as myself would climb into Wayne's classic.  Wayne's Dad bought
him a ' 53 or ' 54 four door Buick or Oldsmobile, a real tank but a solid cruiser.  Wayne
was probably one of the most safe drivers of all my college friends who had cars; of
course, by the time he graduated he had more road miles under his belt than John
Madden.  Wayne was very cautious at approaching intersections.  Once Wayne was
within one hundred yards of an occupied intersection, he set down on his horn like
the other car was at hood's length in the middle of the crossing.  That old car had a
horn like an oceanliner.  When Wayne blasted his on-coming warning, all of us
passengers would roll the windows down and wave and smile like a homecoming
queen.  You could almost hear the stranger's mind shout inquisitively , "Who are
those people?  They know me!  Why don't I know them?"  The blank stares were
hilarious as we cruised through the intersection.  Wayne never could see the humor
in our antics.

   I made Wayne's day when I told him that Pitt was now an enrolled Wolfpacker and
wanted to go to Rockingham the following weekend.  He was glad to see her again and
to know that she was under the Red and White umbrella but was even more happy to
have another paying gas money contributor.  However, Pitt was like me; she enjoyed
the big city and the college life.  Just as I had no reason to go back home other than
family, so did she.  Furthermore, she and Ken remained friends but no longer dated.  
That tidbit of information rekindled a spark that had all but gone out.  Cleverly, I
began to coordinate my return trips home with Pitt's return.  Finally, going home one
weekend I asked Pitt if she would like to go to Tom & Sarah's for a zip and
superburger.  She said yes; hello porch step(actually by this time in my life, I was as
tall as Pitt)!  That first kiss was well worth the wait!  Once we returned to Raleigh, I
never talked to Pitt until we climbed into Wayne's Rockingham cruiser for another
return trip home to see the folks.  The sporadic times Pitt and I rode home together,
we dated Friday and/or Saturday nights in Rockingham.  Pitt was a charmer and I had
a reason to go home.   Still I took pride in the fact that some of my high school and
college buddies were tied to one girlfriend or a wife while I was not that weak and
"played the field".  Yet one Sunday night when we returned from Rockingham, I asked
Pitt for a date to see the Four seasons on campus in Reynolds Coliseum that week.  I
was falling for the hometown honey.  Pitt informed me that she had a boyfriend in
Raleigh and that she would date me anytime in Rockingham but never in Raleigh.  Of
course, my response to Pitt was if I she did not have time to date me in Raleigh, then I
did not have time to date her in Rockingham.  We reached a mutual understanding.

   Pitt and I continued to be good friends.  We still hurried to roll down the windows
and waved at all the strangers in all the intersections between Rockingham and
Raleigh no matter how cold it was.  I suppose she continued to date the same boy in
Raleigh; I never asked about him.  With four all girls schools in Raleigh, St. Mary's,
Peace, Meredith, and Rex Nursing and one in Greensboro, UNC-G, I was too busy
playing the field.  I played until April 25, 1970 when I met a girl in an itsy-bitsy,
teeny-weenie yellow but no polka-dot bikini lying on a towel on the sands of Atlantic
Beach.  Less than sixty days from now, that beach queenlier and I will have been
married thirty-four years.  That episode is for another story, another time; no, make
that a book, not a story.  Yeah, My GAL SAL changed my life forever.

   I never saw Pitt again after graduation from State.  I think of her and the good times
we had since that day in the ninth grade when I used that mailman pick-up line every
I scroll the memoriam page of deceased classmates at RockinghamRemembered.com.
 OR. Duncan Lockey's Email to Joel Bailey(RHS ' 66) generated more questions about
the girl I never quite figured out.  How did a Southern Belle like Pitt end up in
California?  If she married a man from Florida, was he the other guy in Raleigh while
we both enjoyed our hometown only fling?  On the other hand, maybe Lockey was the
other guy if he fell hard enough for Pitt to drive three thousand miles to propose
marriage(boy, that return ride had to be a long drive back home after hearing "no").
Maybe Lockey initially met and fell for Pitt on a hometown weekend visit.  After all,
Rockingham and Laurinburg are only twenty-two miles apart.  Did either or both guys
attend State?  Lockey wrote, "The day she died of a heart attack, her cousin called
me."  Who was that cousin?  My money is on Joan Hinson(RHS ' 66).  Joan and Pitt
shared a love and admiration for each other that only relatives have.  By the way, my
Daddy also carried Joan's mail.  Joan was our high school head cheerleader and
homecoming queen.  Her boyfriend was the Rocket football captain Marcus
Comer(RHS ' 66).  Marcus and Joan had the courtship you only see in the Hollywood
love stories of the ' 60s. The pretty head cheerleader locks arms with the handsome
football captain  and strolls to the fifty yard line to be crowned homecoming queen
before a packed house of fans screaming and cheering their approval.  The next time
the cheerleader and the football captain locked arms in such sweet embrace was when
they marched down and out the aisle as Mr. and Mrs. Marcus Comer.  It is just as
though the characters stepped out of the big drive-in screen into real life in small
town Rockingham.  A love story could not have been scripted any better!  Marcus and
Joan became close friends of mine; I would put them in my inner circle of friends.  
These city friends accepted this country boy like they had known me all their lives and
I could always count on their support.  Fortunately, my wife Sally met this couple at
my ten year class reunion and shares my mutual admiration and friendship after all
these years.  Marcus and Joan has always given her reason to look ahead to our next
class reunion over the years. Still, I wonder if Joan made the call to Lockey.  I guess I
will find out at our next class reunion.

   I do not know if Pitt ever became a veterinarian but like Lockey I do know that Pitt
loved life and enjoyed it fully while here such a short time on Earth.  I understand
that Pitt's family donated a lake to the town of Rockingham to be developed into a
recreational and nature facility in Pitt's memory.  What a fitting, living memorial to
pass down through the future generations of Rockingham, a park that embellishes
the very life and nature that Pitt so passionately embraced!  I challenge the city
leaders to develop this park to its fullest potential.  I thank God that I shared a few
years with Pitt. Life with Pitt was always good.  Likewise, the memories of Pitt will
always be good, yes, those precious childhood memories of growing up in
Rockingham, North Carolina - a small textile town in the ' 50s & the ' 60s.