December 2022 -

The Reunion

Auld Lang Syne or times long past. Times we remember at reunions.

My 50-ish Reunion… While COVID delayed a milestone reunion for my 1971 graduating high school class, we were able to get together in 2022. It was a bittersweet time, but fortunately mostly sweet. The very first person I saw was my next-door neighbor from back in the day. Our families were so close that just seeing her was worth the trip from the Bay Area to SoCal. I’m sure my mother looking down was happy to see us hugging and smiling. It was special. It was also sweet to reconnect with former classmates that I had not seen (or thought about) for decades. I would approach someone who caught my eye with a friendly smile… we would bow inward slightly… not as a gesture of respect like Asian folks do but to read each other’s name tags. Our collective eyesight is not what it used to be. Invariably the first questions were… where are you living, are you retired and how many grand kids? After that it was stripping away time back to when we were sitting in a classroom or around the quad at lunchtime or remembering some high school hi-jinks. Too much fun.

The bitter… or more appropriately poignant portion of the reunion was taking time to view the memory wall. The number of absent comrades had grown significantly since our 30th reunion. It was sometimes difficult to keep reading the names. At my 30th reunion, two women approached me at separate times to chat for a while. I didn’t recognize either one but I remembered their names. Each one told me that they were hoping I would be at the 30th reunion because they felt compelled to thank me for being nice to them. I don’t remember doing anything special… just being friendly. They were not popular or top students or accomplished athletes… just regular kids trying to get through high school… but they remembered me being nice to them. It was such a huge compliment and something I did not expect. Humbling. Well, both their names were on the memory wall… side by side. I had to turn away for a moment.

Some of the old high school spirit was rekindled. Our school mascot was a Scottish warrior. Our marching band included bagpipers, and we were regularly roused at school events with “Scotland the Brave” many, many years before “Braveheart” hit the big screen. I remember playing football on Friday nights. I never heard the band… and they were loud… but I do remember hearing that low rumbling sound the bags make as the pipers get ready to play then the skirl from the pipes. It cut through the noise and action at the game. It was stirring. I will tell you this… I would not want to be facing ancient Scots in battle with bagpipes inspiring them. The cool thing is that the reunion organizers invited some pipers from the current band, and they entered with a slow and deliberate march while playing… “Scotland the Brave.” It’s always magical to hear that song.

Some more disappointment. I am not a wealthy man, but I have done all right. We are nearly 70 years old, and I learned the captain of the football team is couch surfing. How does that happen? Well, he had suffered some serious medical issues over the years but to be essentially homeless when he had so much promise is beyond sad. Then, a woman walked up and stood next to me, and joined an impromptu “catching up” session. She had been working as a waitress while caring for her ailing father in a rural town next to an interstate that was losing population. Things were getting better for her; she shared with me plans she was making to move north to stay with her daughter’s family. I just had to sneak a peek at her name tag. My jaw dropped. She was a pep squad leader and one of the most popular girls in our graduating class. Wow… things don’t always turn out the way we expect… maybe they never do.

On the brighter side… I noticed a super attractive woman earlier in the evening and thought she must be the daughter of one of the reunion attendees. She was gorgeous, lithe and looked to be maybe in her early thirties. Our paths did not cross until she also joined that impromptu session near the end of the evening. My jaw dropped again… another former pep squad leader. She looked half her age. She joined the group just to say “Hi” to me. Double wow. We didn’t really run in the same circles during high school, but we knew each other. She was warm and gracious. Things turned out well for her. She married a restaurateur. Although her husband passed away many years ago, she still owns and runs their super successful restaurant business. I’m sure she could not have imagined the turns her life would take after graduation.

There was a final remembrance of our absent comrades. Our class president… now a busy attorney but who was the Jeff Spicoli of our class… you know, the surfer dude from “Fast Times at Ridgemont High”… recited some moving poetry about how our classmates from so many years ago may be gone but they still live as they once did in our memories, and it is up to us to keep those memories alive. Then, one of the pipers started playing “Amazing Grace.” It was bittersweet but mostly sweet. Auld Lang Syne… times long past.

Sunday, I drove up I-5 then through the small Central Valley town that I consider my true hometown; I stopped at the church my family attended more than 60 years ago. The lead pastor at that church presided over the services when my mom passed away in early 2020, and I promised him that I would return to his church for a Sunday service. On that Sunday, I made good on my promise. Even though it had been more than two and half years, he recognized me as I walked in and sat down in an empty pew. We chatted a few minutes after his sermon. As I drove away after the service, I thought to myself… I will have to make the trek down to that small church again someday. I will.