Not only did they win, said Penny Gibson Henwood, a Media resident and member of that '67 team. They won big.
``We were taught by men and rowed like men,'' Henwood said. ``They'd never seen anything like that on the West Coast.''
Nor had the crew members seen each other in years until Monday, when all but one teammate from that original eight came back to the river, their river, for a quick round-trip to the Strawberry Mansion Bridge. (The team actually numbered nine, including the coxswain, with eight people manning the oars.)
They gathered quickly that afternoon as freezing rain bounced off the boathouse dock. The river, iron-gray and steel-cold, slapped against their narrow scull.
Coxswain Margie Pollack Ballheim, who'd come from Ecorse, Mich., just to wriggle into the scull's stern, nodded once. Everyone was in place. For a moment, the eight grabbing oars sat motionless, waiting for her signal - just as they had in 1967.
``OK!''
Eight oars pushed against the dock, propelling the craft into deeper water. The scull paused for a moment, as if it, too, was rusty from a lack of practice. And then, responding to their touch, it was off, slender and sliding away fast.
They returned 11 minutes later, wide-eyed and winded, the memories of three decades gone as sharp as the winter breeze.
``That was fun!'' said Barbara DePena Hoe, a Chestnut Hill resident who crewed in that original eight. She helped arrange Monday's reunion, which started at the club boathouse and later moved to a crew member's home.
``Invigorating,'' added Faye Bardman Donovan, another teammate, now living in Kimberton, Chester County.
Janice Saudargas of Brigantine, catching her breath after the frigid workout, indulged herself with a slightly smug smile. ``I think we looked pretty good,'' she said.
