Tim and I weren't friends. . . he may not have even known I existed. But I remember the name and the boy and I cried when I read (today) of his passing. So many of our classmates died far too young.
I knew Tim Spring, not real well but did interact with him at Monticello Junior High and at Cleveland Heights. He was in a couple of my classes at both schools. He was pretty much to himself, not real outgoing as I remember but always courteous and well mannered. I am very sad/sorry to hear that he was killed in Vietnam. I salute his courage and backbone to serve in the "Special Forces", U.S. Army. He is another reason why as Americans we are living the good life. He stood up for freedom and paid the ultimate price. As a fellow Veteran and Career Navyman I say "Thank You for your Service and for a job well done". You were there when it was time to be counted on. May God Bless your soul and rest in peace, my brother.
I knew Timmy from the 2nd grade to Heights graduation. Walked together to school and then later at Heights rode the bus together. He was an only child. I heard he had applied for West Point and was the alternate. He enlisted. He was killed after three weeks in Viet Nam. Timmy was one of the good guys with an infectious laugh. His Dad died while we were in Heights....that quieted him down a bit.
I was living in Virginia when my Mother called and informed me of his death. I cried then - I cry now at a life lost way to early. His name is on the Viet Nam Memorial. A good life cut short. May God bless his memory.
The last time I saw Tim was at Cleveland Hopkins Airport. We were both waiting to catch a plane, I was heading to San Antonio Texas at the time. Sitting across from me was a soldier wearing his dress uniform, as was I, we began to talk and during our conversation we both realized we were the same class in high school. I didn't recognize him, but he did recognize the name on my nametag and asked if I had a twin brother. From there we talked for a bit about Cleveland Heights and so on, before I could get to know him better, our planes were boarding. We wished eachother luck and then we went our separate ways. I was very disheartened to here of his death, he seemed like a true patriot.
I am deeply moved by all the comments on Tim Spring, especially that of Mark Kinzler, with his memory of the Monticello Junior High School Orchestra, under direction of Sharon Beale. I was a violinist in that orchestra. I must have looked across any number of times at Tim Spring. Now I am failing to summon my memory of his face and personality. My loss. It is wonderful to hear the memories by others. These are what keep a guy like Tim Spring with us.
I have many memories of Tim. We were friends from the 4th grade through high school. He used to call me and we'd talk for hours about all kinds of things, and I guess I was his sounding board about the various girls he had crushes on over the years. My mom used to get upset because he would refuse to hang up - just stay on the line! He came by one vacation when I was home from college, I think it was at Christmas. He was in his uniform and so handsome and so serious. My mom called me in Florida to tell me he'd been killed, and later she described how moving his funeral was. If I'd known what was to come, I'd have hugged him much longer that last visit. Sad.
Posted this for Fred West too. It applies to both men...
Nones of March
I didn't come to
visit you this year,
though I have been
faithful since the spring
that I first learned.
No longer flesh
you have become
deep letters etched
on polished stone
as dark as old blood,
as cold as our Cleveland
in January.
This stone and late winter
have become our
meeting place,
not the boisterous,
boundlessness,
placelessness of
our sunlit youth.
No more lazy afternoons
and celebratory evenings.
Now we meet early,
before the dawn,
the way that soldiers do,
cupping their cigarettes
against the waiting eyes,
before the day fills
with all that fills the days.
Before birds begin
their morning song,
while frost still glistens,
I walk the ramp slowly
until I find your name
among the others.
Softly I press bare fingers
into those diamond hard letters,
hoping my touch will resurrect
your easy laughter;
knowing that it won't
no matter how gentle.
Though I cannot hear your voice
I mark your presence
as sun rises, or rain falls,
or wind blows off the lake.
I tell you of the year
just past, knowing that
somehow you hear me.
'Happy birthday'
I say to the stone,
and whisper of the phase of life
on which you and I
are separately embarked.
But this year
there are new obligations.
Instead mysterious granite,
I will meet you
on a Midwest hillside,
just as early,
just as convinced that,
even without a memorial, you will be there in the mist.
Me on my way to work,
you held fast in
what lies beyond,
me waiting to hear again
your voice.
You speaking
without using words.
We live in troubled times. We lived once in even worse times. Most of us got through them. .Tim Spring did not. His story has bothered since 1985 when I first learned oh his death. We can do almost nothing about then but remember.
I bought flowers and had them sent to Tim's grave. He is burried with his mother and father in Lakeview Cemetery. One sad family story. I can not imagine what his mother went through.
The Cleveland florist took the pics.
The note says Tim is remember fondly by his Cleveland Hieghts Class of 65.
May better days than then be yours for eternity Timoth Lanzer Spring.
I remember Tim from Monticello Jr High. I always thought he was cute, quiet and nice. Who could miss that red hair and freckles! I can't think of Tim without thinking about Fred West who I knew much better. Two very brave and admirable young men. Too young. I saw Fred before he left, not knowing I would never have the chance to speak with him again. I took my children to Washington DC to the Vietnam memorial. We took etchings for Fred( I didn't know about Tim) My son was eager to know all about Fred. When we got home I showed him my Caldrons and shared pictures of Fred's achievements at HHS. It was bittersweet. Fred was killed on my birthday. I took my grandkids to see the traveling Wall when it came to Solon. This time I took pictures and memorabilia and left it at the wall . I hope one day that a museum will be built to honor these heroic young men so that their memories will never be forgotten.Rest in peace, Fred and Tim. I think of you often.
Wow this brings back memories. Tim and I went from Oxford,Monticello and then thru Heights. Those freckles and red hair were so him. The ultimate nice guy,very shy but well grounded. I am so proud to have known him.
Carol (Formerly Eleanor) Hammer (Willis-Holden)
Tim and I weren't friends. . . he may not have even known I existed. But I remember the name and the boy and I cried when I read (today) of his passing. So many of our classmates died far too young.
Charles Peterman
I knew Tim Spring, not real well but did interact with him at Monticello Junior High and at Cleveland Heights. He was in a couple of my classes at both schools. He was pretty much to himself, not real outgoing as I remember but always courteous and well mannered. I am very sad/sorry to hear that he was killed in Vietnam. I salute his courage and backbone to serve in the "Special Forces", U.S. Army. He is another reason why as Americans we are living the good life. He stood up for freedom and paid the ultimate price. As a fellow Veteran and Career Navyman I say "Thank You for your Service and for a job well done". You were there when it was time to be counted on. May God Bless your soul and rest in peace, my brother.
Linda Duncan (Flower)
I knew Timmy from the 2nd grade to Heights graduation. Walked together to school and then later at Heights rode the bus together. He was an only child. I heard he had applied for West Point and was the alternate. He enlisted. He was killed after three weeks in Viet Nam. Timmy was one of the good guys with an infectious laugh. His Dad died while we were in Heights....that quieted him down a bit.
I was living in Virginia when my Mother called and informed me of his death. I cried then - I cry now at a life lost way to early. His name is on the Viet Nam Memorial. A good life cut short. May God bless his memory.
Morton Myers
The last time I saw Tim was at Cleveland Hopkins Airport. We were both waiting to catch a plane, I was heading to San Antonio Texas at the time. Sitting across from me was a soldier wearing his dress uniform, as was I, we began to talk and during our conversation we both realized we were the same class in high school. I didn't recognize him, but he did recognize the name on my nametag and asked if I had a twin brother. From there we talked for a bit about Cleveland Heights and so on, before I could get to know him better, our planes were boarding. We wished eachother luck and then we went our separate ways. I was very disheartened to here of his death, he seemed like a true patriot.
Anne Hooper (Webb)
I am deeply moved by all the comments on Tim Spring, especially that of Mark Kinzler, with his memory of the Monticello Junior High School Orchestra, under direction of Sharon Beale. I was a violinist in that orchestra. I must have looked across any number of times at Tim Spring. Now I am failing to summon my memory of his face and personality. My loss. It is wonderful to hear the memories by others. These are what keep a guy like Tim Spring with us.
Penny Buck (Arnett)
I have many memories of Tim. We were friends from the 4th grade through high school. He used to call me and we'd talk for hours about all kinds of things, and I guess I was his sounding board about the various girls he had crushes on over the years. My mom used to get upset because he would refuse to hang up - just stay on the line! He came by one vacation when I was home from college, I think it was at Christmas. He was in his uniform and so handsome and so serious. My mom called me in Florida to tell me he'd been killed, and later she described how moving his funeral was. If I'd known what was to come, I'd have hugged him much longer that last visit. Sad.
David Brown
Posted this for Fred West too. It applies to both men...
Nones of March
I didn't come to
visit you this year,
though I have been
faithful since the spring
that I first learned.
No longer flesh
you have become
deep letters etched
on polished stone
as dark as old blood,
as cold as our Cleveland
in January.
This stone and late winter
have become our
meeting place,
not the boisterous,
boundlessness,
placelessness of
our sunlit youth.
No more lazy afternoons
and celebratory evenings.
Now we meet early,
before the dawn,
the way that soldiers do,
cupping their cigarettes
against the waiting eyes,
before the day fills
with all that fills the days.
Before birds begin
their morning song,
while frost still glistens,
I walk the ramp slowly
until I find your name
among the others.
Softly I press bare fingers
into those diamond hard letters,
hoping my touch will resurrect
your easy laughter;
knowing that it won't
no matter how gentle.
Though I cannot hear your voice
I mark your presence
as sun rises, or rain falls,
or wind blows off the lake.
I tell you of the year
just past, knowing that
somehow you hear me.
'Happy birthday'
I say to the stone,
and whisper of the phase of life
on which you and I
are separately embarked.
But this year
there are new obligations.
Instead mysterious granite,
I will meet you
on a Midwest hillside,
just as early,
just as convinced that,
even without a memorial, you will be there in the mist.
Me on my way to work,
you held fast in
what lies beyond,
me waiting to hear again
your voice.
You speaking
without using words.
From a friend,
David Brown
We live in troubled times. We lived once in even worse times. Most of us got through them. .Tim Spring did not. His story has bothered since 1985 when I first learned oh his death. We can do almost nothing about then but remember.
I bought flowers and had them sent to Tim's grave. He is burried with his mother and father in Lakeview Cemetery. One sad family story. I can not imagine what his mother went through.
The Cleveland florist took the pics.
The note says Tim is remember fondly by his Cleveland Hieghts Class of 65.
May better days than then be yours for eternity Timoth Lanzer Spring.
Susan Katz (Bergman)
I remember Tim from Monticello Jr High. I always thought he was cute, quiet and nice. Who could miss that red hair and freckles! I can't think of Tim without thinking about Fred West who I knew much better. Two very brave and admirable young men. Too young. I saw Fred before he left, not knowing I would never have the chance to speak with him again. I took my children to Washington DC to the Vietnam memorial. We took etchings for Fred( I didn't know about Tim) My son was eager to know all about Fred. When we got home I showed him my Caldrons and shared pictures of Fred's achievements at HHS. It was bittersweet. Fred was killed on my birthday. I took my grandkids to see the traveling Wall when it came to Solon. This time I took pictures and memorabilia and left it at the wall . I hope one day that a museum will be built to honor these heroic young men so that their memories will never be forgotten.Rest in peace, Fred and Tim. I think of you often.
Laraine Freedman (Schuster)
Wow this brings back memories. Tim and I went from Oxford,Monticello and then thru Heights. Those freckles and red hair were so him. The ultimate nice guy,very shy but well grounded. I am so proud to have known him.