Welcome to the Memories section of the website.

Now I know there are some memories that you can't post in public due the statue of limitations and that nagging personal issue but….and this is a big but, there are lots of memories that should be written down.

As we all grow older the past seems fuzzier and fuzzier or maybe I just forgot to take my medication again. Anyhow, the point is if you could take a few moments to jot down a memory that you would wish to share with credit, or anonymously, I would be happy to post it up for all to enjoy.

As I said at the beginning I am not looking for the Great American Novel but just some thought that have stuck in your mind you might wish to share.

Just click on the TKE crest on the side and they will get posted up for everybody's enjoyment.

Jet Townsend Sometime in the late 70's/early 80's Sitting under a sagging tarp at Turkey Run with Johnny D and a bottle of Jack and some Led Zep on the tunes. It was way too late and the mud has crept past the knees of my jeans due to the three straight days of rain. There was no point in going to our tents as the river was running through them. We sat with the bottle of Jack and a 10 pound bag of peanuts. We would take a shot, eat a peanut then throw a few in the fire to keep it going in the rain as the peanut oil seemed impervious to Mother Nature's wrath. Cold, wet and muddy and I wouldn't trade it for anything at that time…..well okay maybe some sunshine and the Swedish Bikini team.

Adrienne Reiswerg The TKE Canoe Trip ! I’d heard about it from Neil in the ‘70s and ‘80s and in my mind it was like the Emerald City - fabulous, mystical, but not somewhere I could go. I reconnected with the fraters at the Vogels’ wedding in the fall of ‘82 and remember thinking, “Damn, these people are much more fun than real life.“ It was an afternoon wedding. I told my family I’d be home by dinnertime. Actuallly arrived at noon the next day. Now that’s one great wedding. Fast forward to fall ‘92. We were out in Terre Haute for Doti’s 40th birthday. So great, and the first time I met the lovely and talented Libbie ZurSchmiede. Again, I swooned at the wonderful camping stories, but I never really considered running away from home and attending... until ‘95, when I actually DID run away from home and had more freedom and more free time. ZurSch was the one to say, “Well, I’m booking you a campsite and you’re coming this year.“ ME? Camping? On the ground? I was terrified driving up to Pokagon, feeling like an interloper because I wasn’t “with” one of the fraters. Perhaps I was a groupie before the term had been invented. Anyway, the feeling lasted four seconds, and I was hooked. Bill and Terri Neale were so kind and their fire was the central place to gather. ZurSch, Ricky, Randy, Big Larr, Gary and Hensle were the only ones I knew from college. Rick, ZurSch and I had shared some great antics on campus in the summer of ‘72, when I first felt adopted by Gamma Psi. Looking at the photos, I must have met Bouncin’ Billy, Spud, Johnny D, the Reiners and the Gehrings that year. Then a fellow sat down at the campfire eating sardines. From the can. With his fingers. He told a truly tasteless joke, I told a more tasteless one, and Dr. Binning and I were off to the races. It’s so reassuring when you are aware that your sensibilities are four standard deviations (sic) from the norm, and then you find people like yourself. We may be mutants, but we’re not alone. And we have said the same thing at the same time a spookily high (sic again) number of times. Cilellas and Chuck appear in the ‘99 photos, Jet in ‘02. I don’t remember an actual introduction, but we have grown closer each year and I am now his official Alpha Jew Bitch. A girl doesn’t get a title like that every day. Stories? If you weren’t there, I can’t really explain. We drank. It rained. We laughed. Tequila shots, Bob’s camp potatoes. The Butt Hutt at Pokagon, and yes, the sign directing you to the parking lot and front door really did say “Enter in Rear.” It poured. Doing nothing. And back in the day, I don’t remember a cellphone or a hand-held video device. The historians should feel free to correct me, but there was a year or two in Illinois after that, before Turkey Run, then the private campground with the covered bridge, then back to Turkey Run. It never occurred to me that anything else was more important than being with the gang, from ‘95 straight through 2006. My nephew got Bar Mitzvahed in NY and I missed it. When the next nephew picked the same damn weekend this past May, I flew into Indy at 5 pm and headed right out to the campground. This coming year, I will attend a wedding in Ohio on Sunday, but believe that I can get a pretty good weekend in with just two nights. Not attending is not an option. You know, don’t you, that most adults never have this much fun, let alone have it on a regular basis? When you write YITB, I can only ponder on that bond, which in so many cases transcends time, distance and your different life paths. It is an honor to be a part of that bond, and to have formed so many bonds with so many wonderful TKES, wives, kids and friends. With your permission, I would like to keep billing myself as the world’s oldest reigning TKE little sister. Thank you for inclusion in the greatest, goofiest club in the world, and know how much you and the annual reunions mean to me. Once a year be damned. If any of you ever need a kidney, you can have one of mine.

Fred Haberstroh from sometime in the 80's Before returning his RENTAL car, Peter Carbonaro compulsively vacuumed out the trunk of the RENTAL car. We all knew he was a neat-nick,but come-on! And anyway, who brings a battery operated vac to a camping trip anyway?