Friends with class: The ‘ROMEOs’ – or, Retired Old Men Eating Out – have been friends since their days at Rogers High School

Sixty-four years ago, the Rogers High School class of 1961 received its diplomas and left high school behind. But that doesn’t mean the graduates abandoned the friendships they forged when they roamed the halls as Pirates.

Every month, a small group of 1961 grads gathers for lunch at Tomato Street on North Division. Over the years, the topics of conversation have changed.

“We used to talk about girls and sports,” Ed Melville said. “Now, we talk about doctor visits.”

Kerry Hafner nodded.

“By the time we’re done with lunch, we’ve all discovered new diseases we didn’t know we had!”

Their laughter and camaraderie make them popular with the restaurant staff. One of the servers dubbed them the “ROMEOs.”

“We’re Retired Old Men Eating Out,” Joe Branda explained.

The group began when Melville and Dan Coe decided to ask a few former classmates to join them at their monthly lunch.

“We have good memories,” Branda said. “We used to sit together at lunch. The skids (tough kids) would hang out at the convenience store across the street and smoke.”

Their connection to the Hillyard neighborhood runs deeply. Coe even lives in his childhood home.

“I live in the house I grew up in,” he said. “I bought it from the estate after Mom died.”

Current seniors at Rogers bear little resemblance to their counterparts from the class of ’61, who generally wore pressed khakis and button-up shirts to school.

“There were no school buses,” Coe said. “We walked everywhere.”

Raymond Parker recalled the dances.

“We had mixers in the morning before school.”

Branda shared another difference.

“Mom sent me to school without a water bottle or a cellphone!”

Disputes were settled with fists after school.

“No one brought guns or knives,” Hafner said. “We boxed it out and shook hands afterward.”

Sports played a role in their high school experience.

Bill Stone wrestled with Melville, Coe and Hafner, and a couple of the guys played football together.

Hafner served as sports editor and photographer for the yearbook, and Branda was assistant editor. Due to a memorable error, however, that’s not how Branda’s position was listed.

When they abbreviated assistant, the “t” and the period were omitted, and the yearbook went to print with Branda identified as the “ass editor.”

Most of them had after-school jobs.

Stone worked at a greenhouse in Hillyard, Melville worked at a bakery on Crestline, Coe bussed tables at the Spokane Hotel, Branda washed pots and pans in the kitchen at Deaconess and Hafner worked at Smitty’s Pancake House.

“I was the syrup boy,” he said.

For weekend fun, they’d hang out at the Panda drive-in or pile into a car and cruise Riverside.

“Minimum wage was $1 an hour, and 87 cents got us 2½ gallons of gas,” Melville said. “We could cruise all night.”

While they share many memories, their lunchtime conversation is usually rooted in the present.

“We all look forward to this,” Melville said. “It gets us out of the house and gives us something to do.”

Most of them are now 82, and they value their time together. Two years ago, they lost two members of their group in two weeks.

“I’ve got a bottle of Pendleton whiskey for the last man left standing,” Melville said. “I’ve got their names and numbers taped to the bottle. The last guy left of the group gets it.”

That prompted questions as to whether he’d had taken a few sips of the whiskey, but he assured them the bottle was still full

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Four of them married their high school sweethearts, and while not all the marriages lasted, their friendship endured.

“We’ve always been like this,” Branda said. “We enjoy each other, and we’re all happy.”

When asked what makes them happy, the guys answered in unison.

“Life!” they said.