Thanks to Jeanette and her quest for classmates for a Facebook group, those
from the DHS Class of ’70 who met Saturday, October 1st, made me a bit envious of the camaraderie evident in stories and laughter that highlighted the gathering. I share with them only our senior year, so commonalities are there for me, but limited.
Coming from a huge metropolitan school, one would think I would share similar histories with a ginormous crowd of city folks, but unless the kids in three major urban circles – school, church, neighborhood – overlapped, the sheer numbers thwarted the making of bonds like I witnessed Saturday among those DHS pals.
Classroom mischief, recess mayhem, bus ride secrets and gravel bar rowdiness surely came to mind even if there wasn’t enough time to retell all the antics or enough brain cells to recall all the details.
Recall was a definite challenge for some of us!
More than one voiced the thought, “Who are all these OLD people?” Voiced with love, of course, and big smiles. Another statement I heard several times was “You don’t know who you are talking to, do you?” Once identities were revealed, hugs and laughs followed and memories surfaced quickly.
Our last formal meeting was for year #30 since we donned those blue caps and gowns as the final class to graduate from the classic three-story brick structure that primed us for the grown-up world. This was reunion # 45+1, coined by Sara, because who has a reunion for those years not in increments of 5?
The Class of ’70, that’s who! So plans for #45+2 are already in the works.There were sad lulls in conversation when we realized all who are gone from us. We can’t reclaim time, but we can appreciate now and celebrate.
Bless these ties that bind.