Two Worlds

Tommy Towery

LHS '64

For the last several weeks, you have been subjected to many of my thoughts about previous days growing up in Huntsville. While I did not get the reactions and participations in the subjects I thought I might, it was still fun for me. The weekly Lee's Traveller usually centers on things we did at Lee, or on the Huntsville activities in which we grew, but this week I am taking a different approach.

The following subject was retrieved from a Facebook post, which I found interesting, and decided to share with you. I do not know the full name of the author, for it was never stated, but here are the reflections of a gentleman named Richard. who is just a few years younger than us.

Two Worlds

My name’s Richard. I’m 74, and I’ve come to realize something about my generation: we are the bridge.

We were born in one world… and grew up in another.

A world where summers meant open windows, the hum of a box fan, and the smell of fresh-cut grass.

Where neighbors waved from their porches, and if your bike chain broke, you didn’t Google it — 

you knocked on a door and someone came out with a wrench.

We lived in a world built on patience.

We waited for letters to arrive.

We waited for the library to open.

We waited for our favorite song to play again on the radio — and when it finally did, it felt like magic.

Then, almost overnight, everything changed.

Phones shrank. Music became invisible.

News arrived before the coffee finished brewing.

We learned to type, to swipe, to tap.

We learned to talk to machines — and to have them talk back.

We’ve seen milk delivered to the door in glass bottles…

and we’ve scanned groceries without speaking to a single cashier.

We’ve dropped coins into payphones…

and we’ve made video calls to loved ones across oceans.

We’ve known the deep quiet of a world without notifications —

and the noise of one that never stops buzzing.

And sometimes, the younger ones look at us like we’re behind.

But what they don’t see is this:

we know both worlds.

We can plant tomatoes and write an email.

We can tell a story without Google — and then fact-check it with Google.

We know the weight of a handwritten letter and the reach of a message sent in seconds.

We’ve lived long enough to understand that you can change without losing yourself.

That you can honor where you came from while still learning where the world is headed.

We’ve buried friends and welcomed grandchildren.

We’ve seen diseases disappear and new ones arrive.

We’ve unfolded paper maps — and followed glowing blue lines on GPS.

We’ve sent postcards with stamps — and emojis with a single tap.

And maybe that’s our greatest gift:

the memory of a slower, gentler time,

and the courage to adapt to a world that never sits still.

We can teach the young that not everything needs to happen instantly.

And we can remind our peers that it’s never too late to try something new.

Because that’s what we are —

the bridge between what was and what will be.

And as long as we keep standing strong,

the world will always have something solid to cross on its way forward.

Because every generation builds the road a little further — and ours? 

Ours remembers both the dirt path and the highway.

This Week's AI Song

I worked with the AI song creator this week to come up with a tune to go along with the idea of our old world. I asked it to compose a song about me thinking back to when I was in high school. Here is what it came up with, and how it sounds after I made a few edits.

“The Halls of Yesteryear”

Music Created By Tommy Towery With AI Music Generator

Back to the halls of yesteryear,

Echoes of voices I still hear.

We danced, we laughed, we shed some tears,

But time, oh time, it disappeared.

[spoken]

I often wonder, what happened to yesteryear

Back to the halls of yesteryear,

Echoes of voices I still hear.

We passed notes folded, our hearts on fire,

Caught in the pull of our young heart’s desire.

Back to the halls of yesteryear,

Echoes of voices I still hear.

Crushes bloomed, and some fell apart,

But each left a mark on a restless heart.

We had our days, and we loved them all

But now our life fades from Summer to Fall

But in our hearts we still see their faces

As we remember, those long lost places.

Back to the halls of yesteryear,

Echoes of voices I still hear.

Yes, a few are gone, but some linger on

And to them I dedicate this song

[spoken]

And to them I dedicate this song

The Wayback Machine

"Radar Men from the Moon"

 Chapter 7 - Camouflaged Destruction

We continue the serial this week, just like they did back in the movies during our times.

Lee Lunch Bunch

Lee High ‘64, ‘65, ‘66 Classmates

Oct. 23, 2025 @ 11:00 a.m.

Carrabba’s Restaurant

(Parkway Place Mall)

Please RSVP by Oct. 20th so the restaurant will know how many will be attending, for staffing purposes.

Patsy Hughes Oldroyd

256-431-3396

patsykeith2025@outlook.com

(Note: This is a new email address for Patsy.

 Old att.net email is no longer available.)

                            OR

Judy Fedrowisch Kincaid

256-656-3667

njkincaid@hotmail.com

I hate it, but I have a long-ago scheduled doctor's appointment, which will make me miss coming to the Lee Lunch Bunch get-together. I hope there is a good turnout and everyone enjoys themselves.

I'm almost afraid to ask it, since I am having so much fun with the AI music app, but I wonder what others think about the songs that are being generated. Should I leave them out, and just play with the music on my own? If you have an opinion, one way or the other, then please let me know.

Last Week's Questions, Answers, And Comments

Darla Gentry Steinberg, LHS ‘66, "Monte Sano holds a very special memory for me. Michael and I held our wedding there in the amphitheater in 1972….with a picnic and ballgame afterwards. It was a fun wedding!"

Dianne Hughey McClure, LHS ‘64, "I remember Carolyn McCutcheon, Tommy, and myself riding horses on the mountain. We spent many Sunday afternoons on the mountain. I had my 16th birthday at Monte Sano State Park. It was a big part of my life."

(Editor's Note: "I remember there was a normal trail we rode the horses on, and the horses would bolt like wildfire when we got back close to the stables so they could rest. You had to hang on for dear life to keep from falling off."

Patsy Hughes Oldroyd, LHS ‘65, "Love the article about Monte Sano. Sure, every one of us spent some time up there parking, picnicking, playing, and photographing each other. Would love to see a couples picture of you and your spouse as you posed together somewhere up on Monte Sano."