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Highland Park High School Class of 1963 - Remembering David Zuckert
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Today I want to the graveside funeral of Dave Zuckert. Davey Zuckert had lived a block away from me in high school days in a riparian home (a HUMUNGOUS mansion) at the foot of Laurel Street in Highland Park, Illinois. Our house was a relatively small one (three bedrooms and three and a half baths) a block to the north at 74 Central right across from Central Park. Dave was born on the exact same day I was: August 18, 1945 - maybe even in the same Michael Reese Hospital at 29th + Ellis. For all I know, we may have shared cribs next to one another. The both of us had Labrador retrievers, but his was black and mine was chocolate brown. Dave was in none of my classes, but he was no dummy. Like over 95% of my H.S. graduating class, he went on to higher education. He ended up graduating from Southern Illinois University and earned his M.A. from Northern Illinois University spending his career as an educator in the Chicago northwest suburbs not far from where I now live. And until his kidneys gave out a couple of years ago necessitating he move into the home of one of his sons for care and 3x/week dialysis, he lived just unbeknownst a few miles away from me in the north edge of Arlington Heights. No one else from 58 years ago when we graduated from H.P.H.S. was there - hardly a surprise. But his whole family showed up for the graveside service in 45 degree weather with a dank wind howling in from the west. My wife, Beth, and I sat there shivering even though we were bundled up. The sons sitting right in front of us looked uncannily like their father, and the grandsons did too: tall, bespectacled, heavy set and broad shouldered. Everybody there had a gray or black SUV except me with my red Tesla. It was okay, however. Dave's life was a productive one. Remembering him as a teenager, I don't know if I would have expected him to have achieved the obvious success that he had. I was pleased to have learned that he had done well with his time.
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