Do you see any of the same persons in the progression of Reunion pictures?
Class of 1956 . . .Twenty-five years later.
Forty years later
Class of 1956...forty-five years later
Fifty Year Reunion
Lots of Seventy-Five Year Olds... 57th Year Reunion
"Hello, My Name is . . ."
"Your face looks somewhat familiar . . ."
"You haven't changed a bit in ______ years."
Well, there were not many of us . . .even in the beginning . . . who graduated from high school that May evening in 1956. There were 43 of us, or was it 44? Can't remember and at the moment , my yearbook is packed away.
Some of those folks I have not seen since that night; others, rarely; still others, sporadically. I now live only 15-20 miles away from what was then the high school. But, in many ways, it is light years distance. The town has grown in geographic size and in population. ( I attended worship service in the United Methodist Church there last Sunday ...the same church that I attended during my last two years in high school and on college week-ends when home. I saw 'Zero' persons whom I knew, although there were a couple of familiar names in the bulletin.)
The class has had reunions marking 25, 40, 45, 50, and 57 years. (There may have been others that I cannot remember.) I attended those of 25, 40, 45, and 50 years. While their appearances have changed, many of the same persons are in all the above pictures. Some attendees are 'regulars', others are less so; and some, alas, have died. From our small graduating class, nine are no longer living and a few others have or have had health crises. There apparently are tentative plans to have annual get-togethers while those who are alive and able to travel can see each other yet another time.
Many of the stories are re-told for the upteenth time ---and sometimes are as fresh as when they first occurred: The 'White Rats' escapade on the Principal's yard. (There had been 'allegations'. . .); the water-filled item that fell from Sam's locker right at "Mrs. Lossie's " feet with Coach (aka 'Curly' ...for his bald pate) looking on; the auto collision with the train on a Spring evening. Gratefully, no one was killed. Carl actually returned to the baseball team and hit a home run, until it was discovered that he still had a damaged bicep; Have you ever seen a Six-Man football game? It's 'different'.; DWT 'ratting' out the perpetrators of the cherry bomb explosion in the boys' restroom; 'Fizz Merrel' trying to explain the intricacies of Algebra and Plane Geometry, Mrs. Yates having us to diagram sentences and to memorize (!) lots of poetry. Some I still remember. ; Billy Joe's telling the 'newbie' History teacher that his class absence was because of his appointment with 'Dr. Friday'. She didn't know that 'Friday' owned the local pool hall.; Coach's car (known as 'The Goat' for the ram ornament on the hood) rolling down the incline beside the gym as he conducted infield practice many feet away. When the catcher couldnot contain his mirth and literally rolled on the ground, Curly drawled in his nasal twang: 'Ain't funny, White !'; Some of the distinctive nick-names given classmates: Lightnin', Razor, Shane, Chubby, Whip, Speedy, Moosie, Tex, Red (aka Chico)...and those are just the ones that I can recall/or put in print.
One of my dear friends recently chided me about the unhealthy effects of focusing on aging.
Actually, he said, "I worry about you worrying too much about aging. It ain't healthy!" I have noted several times in this blog that the past is an interesting place to visit ...we just cannot 'live' there. A former neighbor once commented that 'everyone wants to live in Mayberry'. . .a reference to Andy Griffith's idyllic little town.
While our town and school district were hardly 'Mayberry', there were many positive circumstances, events, and influential people that provided us with structure, mostly good values, and directions while we were formulating our own set of values and life guidelines. Those are good things to remember and share again with those who were our early 'travelling companions.'
Satchel
Ronald, I loved every bit of your writing and the pictures!
ReplyDeleteMaryette
Maryette, Thanks for commenting. Writing 'scratches an itch' for me. . .something of a way to 'hear myself talk', and I have but slight notion of whether things are being read or not. Cheers to you and Alan !
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