In Memory

Alan Mackiweicz VIEW PROFILE

Alan Mackiweicz

I knew Al Mackiewicz as he was part of the group of students that moved to Omaha from Chicago when their parents were sent to be part of the opening of the big Western Electric plant in Millard.  Al, George Schabloske, Arnie Johnson, Wayne Schultz (underclassman), myself and I’m sure some others all moved to town around 1957, just prior to starting our freshman year. (There were also a couple of kids from the WE plant in Buffalo, NY I believe).  We didn’t know each other before that, but since we also didn’t know any of the large groups of classmates that had grown up  together in the three District 66 elementary schools either, we tended to stick together as our own small outlying clique.  The one thing we did have in common was our Chicago roots, so we could always relate to that.  One Saturday afternoon Arnie Johnson and I were listening to a new DJ on KOIL who said he was recently from Chicago, so we called him up at the station.  He actually came over and we watched a Blackhawks hockey match on tv, even though he was at least 10 years older than us.

Al Mackiewicz had a great sense of humor, as well as a pronounced Chicago accent, and he and I would compare the latest issues of MAD Magazine.   I should also include Bill Tarr, who wasn’t part of the Western Electric gang but had moved into Omaha in 1957 from Texas, as his Dad was the incoming Boy Scout District Executive.  Bill didn’t know any of the local kids either, and he bonded quickly with Arnie Johnson and me.  

Working on the Reunion Committee both this year and also 10 years ago, I noticed how many re-uniting classmates would tend to identify themselves as being from “Oakdale, Loveland or Underwood” and how strong and important those roots continue to be.  Continuing on at Westside into our third and fourth years, we ‘transplants’ made groups of friends with the longtime Omaha kids, and felt more at home.  But that first year or two were somewhat bewildering for some of us, and we were always glad to hear a Chicago accent  across the classroom.  I hadn’t had contact with Al Mackiewicz since high school, and I was sorry to hear of his recent death.  But just the mention of his name brings a smile (or rather, a smirk) to my lips as I remember the Alfred E. Neuman jokes we would guffaw at, as we would “What, Me Worry?” our way through Miss Russnogle’s freshman algebra class.

—Tom Burton

 

 

 





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