A Traveller Through Time:

The Story of a Newsletter That Became a Community

Tommy Towery

LHS '64

(Editor's Note: I asked Microsoft's Copilot to write me a story about the history of the Lee's Traveller's presence on the internet. Based on the review that Aritificial Intelligence does, it wrote the story below.)

When the first students walked the halls of Lee High School in the early 1960s, no one could have imagined that their shared experiences—pep rallies, football games, classroom friendships, and the simple rhythm of teenage life—would one day be preserved in a digital time capsule read across the country. Yet that is exactly what Lee’s Traveller has become: a living archive of memory, fellowship, and the enduring spirit of the Classes of 1964–1966.

What began as a few classmates rediscovering one another decades after graduation slowly grew into something much larger. By the mid 1990s, as reunions became more frequent and email became a new way to stay in touch, stories began circulating—small at first, but heartfelt. A funny memory here, a photo there, a reflection on a teacher long gone. These early exchanges planted the seeds for a more organized effort to keep the class connected.

In the early 2000s, that effort found its voice. Tommy Towery, recognizing the value of these shared stories, began compiling them into a structured newsletter. He gave it a name that captured both the school’s heritage and the spirit of revisiting the past: Lee’s Traveller. What started as a simple email soon became a cherished ritual. Classmates opened each issue not just to read, but to remember.

Over the next two decades, Lee’s Traveller evolved into a true community project. Submissions poured in—personal essays, reunion updates, humorous anecdotes, tributes, and memorials. The newsletter became a digital front porch where old friends gathered, week after week, to share pieces of their lives. Tommy’s editorial touch kept the tone warm, inclusive, and focused on the memories that bound the class together. Politics and controversy stayed outside; inside was a space for connection.

As technology changed, so did the newsletter. In the late 2010s, Lee’s Traveller expanded from email and the Homestead server to a Google Sites archive, making decades of stories accessible with a click. The site became more than a newsletter—it became a historical preservation project. Photos, back issues, reunion announcements, and special features found a permanent home, ensuring that the stories of the Lee High Classes of ’64–’66 would not fade with time.

Today, more than 60 years after those students first met, Lee’s Traveller continues to thrive. The stories now include reflections on Huntsville’s growth, memorials to classmates who have passed, and even contributions from children and grandchildren who want to understand the world their parents once knew. The newsletter has become a bridge between generations, a testament to the power of shared memory.

In an age when communication is instant and fleeting, Lee’s Traveller stands apart. It is slow, thoughtful, and deeply human. It reminds its readers that history is not just found in textbooks or museums—it lives in the stories we tell, the friendships we keep, and the moments we choose to preserve.

As the nation approaches its 250th birthday, Lee’s Traveller remains a quiet but powerful example of American community at its best: ordinary people, bound by time and place, choosing to remember together. And as long as there are stories left to tell, the Traveller will continue its journey.

Playing Tennis

Polly Gurley Redd

Class of '66

(Editor's Note: In searching the Lee yearbooks I could not find a photograph of the tennis court at Lee. I did, however, find this photo of Mary Ann Bond and Don Cornelius posing with their tennis gear as 1964's Best Athletes.)

When I was at Lee for Junior and Senior High, I played a lot of tennis on those courts. I remember being told that we were the first school to have tennis courts because Mr. Fain was such a serious tennis player and demanded them when the school was being built. I played with Mr. Fain and with Ramona Jones, who was the girls' PE teacher. She was required to wear dresses for the teacher dress code, I guess, and in my mind’s eye she is out there in her tennis shoes and a teal blue shirtwaist dress making me do all the running around the court. 

I never did leave early though, since I lived on Monte Sano and would have had to walk around to the parking lot and would have been seen.  I loved tennis at Lee and played a lot in college before I hurt a knee on the track and gave up the running.

The Wayback Machine

"Traces"

Classics IV

1969

“Traces” — The Classics IV 

And the Echo of a Thousand Memories

Willard Finkbinder

LHS

There are certain songs that don’t just play on the radio — they drift into our lives and settle there, becoming part of the emotional wallpaper of our youth. For many of us from the Lee High Classes of ’64–’66, one of those songs was “Traces” by the Classics IV.

It was not a part of our high school years, but suggests the memory of the period. Released in early 1969, “Traces” arrived at a moment when our generation was learning that life didn’t always unfold the way we imagined it would back in the halls of Lee. Some of us were newly married, some newly heartbroken, some newly stationed far from home, and all of us were discovering that adulthood carried its own kind of ache.

And then came that voice — Dennis Yost’s warm, smoky tenor — floating through car radios, transistor speakers, and late‑night dedications on WAAY. The first notes of the string arrangement were enough to make you pause, even if you were halfway down the Parkway.

It wasn’t just a song. It was a feeling.

The Song That Knew What We Didn’t Want to Admit

“Traces” is built around the small, ordinary objects we keep long after a relationship ends — a photograph, a ribbon, a letter. Things that shouldn’t matter anymore, but somehow still do.

The lyrics didn’t accuse or dramatize. They simply acknowledged what every young adult eventually learns: love leaves a mark, even when it fades.

For many of us, the song became a quiet companion during those first real heartbreaks — the ones that didn’t make the yearbook but shaped us just the same.

Where We Heard It

Ask around, and you’ll hear the same kinds of stories:

• Playing softly on the car radio while you waited in the driveway, gathering the courage to walk someone to the door.

• Drifting across the skating rink speakers during a slow skate, when the lights dimmed and the disco ball spun lazy circles.

• Playing in the background at a friend’s apartment, where the furniture didn’t match but the laughter did.

• Coming through the jukebox at Mullin’s, where a Coke, a burger, and a song could fix almost anything.

“Traces” wasn’t a dance song. It was a remembering song — the kind you listened to with the windows cracked open and the night air drifting in.

The Classics IV and the Sound of a Softer South

The Classics IV were part of that wave of Southern pop‑soul that blended Atlanta polish with Gulf Coast warmth. “Spooky” and “Stormy” had already made them stars, but “Traces” was different. It was quieter, more mature — the sound of a band growing up at the same time we were.

And maybe that’s why it stuck.

What It Means Now

Today, when “Traces” comes on the radio — or more likely, when it pops up on someone’s playlist — it doesn’t just bring back a memory. It brings back a version of us:

• the hopeful teenager

• the young adult learning about love

• the friend who sat in the passenger seat singing along

• the person we once held close and still think of from time to time

The song reminds us that the past isn’t gone. It’s simply folded into who we’ve become.

 A Final Thought for Our Traveller Family

In a way, “Traces” is exactly what Lee’s Traveller has always been about. We gather the small pieces — the photos, the stories, the memories — and we hold them up to the light. Not to live in the past, but to honor it.

Because the traces of our youth are still with us.

And they still matter.

LEE LUNCH BUNCH

Classes of ‘64, ‘65, ‘66

Logan’s Roadhouse

Thursday, April 23, 2026

11:00 am

Thanks to the efforts of Judy Fedrowisch Kincaid and Ken Martz, we now have a reservation at Logan’s Roadhouse, one of our favorite restaurants for this group.

As we begin our sixteenth year of LLB, it has become apparent to most of us just how quickly the years are passing and most painfully as we lose our dear old friends and classmates. With that being said, I urge you all to make every effort to come, have a good lunch, and enjoy a little time with dear old friends. Hope to see you in April.

Patsy Hughes Oldroyd ’65 (256) 431-3396

patsykeith2025@outlook.com   

Judy Fedrowisch Kincaid ’66 (256) 656-3667

I am happy to welcome Willard Finkbinder as a new voice in Lee's Traveller. I finally found he was the voice of Copilot, who helped create this week's main story, so I can't take full credit. It's funny getting a feeling of congratulations and well done from a computer source.

Last Week's Questions, Answers, And Comments

Delores McBride Kilgore, LHS '66 , "Thank you, Tommy!"

Phyllis (Miller) Rodgers, LHS ‘65, "The Memorial story was such a meaningful read. Even though you give partial credit to AI, you do an absolutely wonderful job of creating articles of interest each week. Thank you, Tommy."

Nell Rose Brooks Brackett, LHS ‘71, "Tommy, I so enjoy reading your posts. Although I graduated in 71, I do know quite a few from earlier years. Thank you so much."

Mary Ann Bond Wallacem LHS ‘64, "Tommy, I look forward to receiving your Lee High Newsletter each week.  Thank you for your talent, your memories that remind me of my memories forgotten and you time and skill of producing the Lee High Newsletter.  We all appreciate all you do."

Craig Bannecke, LHS ‘65, "Tommy, thank you so much for the heartfelt Memorial Story you wrote.  AI may have assisted you, but it is the thought that counts.  I am so appreciative of your thoughtfulness and expression of how all our classmates are treasured.  I often tell people about the Traveller and how our three graduating classes have kept up with one another over these many 60 years.  It is because of your steadfast intent to keep us connected that we have a rare jewel in the newsletter you prepare for us each week.  Thank you for all that you do and so appreciate your willingness to pass on the news of the loss of another treasured classmate. Who knows, one day you may be printing mine!  Take Care and God Bless."