Class Reunion
It's been forty years (gasp) since the Fairbury High School Class of 1973 graduated. I've heard it said that "you can't go back again." Well, this past weekend, around seventy of my high school classmates, along with quite a few accommodating spouses, tried, quite successfully.
Class reunions seem to produce a myriad of emotions: apprehension (What will they think of me?) excitement (We get to re-connect with old friends!) trepidation (Will I fit in? Did I ever? And, what should I wear?) curiosity (What are they doing now?)
I know that some classmates refuse to attend reunions for a variety of reasons. After all, adolescence can be such a hard time for so many teens; some people just don't want to re-visit a time that may have been very difficult for them. Those who have moved far away may feel like they no longer have anything in common with the classmates they knew so long ago. And some may worry that they aren't successful enough or thin enough or (fill-in-the-blank) enough to mingle with that all-important group of people that they tried so hard to impress when they were coming of age.
Our class may have been more cohesive than some, because we joined together to cheer, over and over, for our winning football and boys' basketball teams. In other ways, though, our class was defined by the same factors that show up in every large group of people. As in any high school class, there were often-overlapping cliques: the popular ones, the athletes, the cheerleaders, the studious ones, the musicians and actors, the movers and shakers, the followers, the risk-takers. Some were quiet, some were outgoing, a few were obnoxious at times. Yet, we grew up together in the same community, all pursuing the same goal. And, 147 of us made it; in May, 1973, we graduated from high school!
So, this past weekend, nearly half of our class joined together to celebrate our teenage years, to remember the thirteen who have died too soon, to renew old friendships and maybe even get to know some people much better than we ever did way back when. Some of us drove just a few miles from Fairbury or somewhere else in Jefferson County, while others drove a hundred miles, or two hundred, or, like me, clear across the state. A few drove across several states, or flew clear across the country, just for the chance to meet up with some old friends. And, we were not disappointed. Our differences faded away as we caught up with each others' lives, shared heartaches and triumphs, offered hugs and support, laughed over the past, and looked forward to the future.
I wonder what those fishermen must have thought as car after car drove over the Rose Creek bridge on Friday night, headed toward Camp Jefferson for the reunion. I wonder how many classmates chuckled, as I did, as our cars weaved their way between those fishermen who must have felt like we were invading their territory. I wonder how many of us squinted through a bug-spattered windshield, trying to find the camp entrance in the dark. I wonder how many were amazed to find that parking was scarce because so many people had come to the reunion. I wonder how many were surprised to find out that we could all have such a good time, even after forty years.
In fact, we had such a great time that we plan to do it all over again in just five more years. That's plenty of time to recruit even more classmates to join us. Whoever said that "we can't go back again"? I think we just did.
Class reunions seem to produce a myriad of emotions: apprehension (What will they think of me?) excitement (We get to re-connect with old friends!) trepidation (Will I fit in? Did I ever? And, what should I wear?) curiosity (What are they doing now?)
I know that some classmates refuse to attend reunions for a variety of reasons. After all, adolescence can be such a hard time for so many teens; some people just don't want to re-visit a time that may have been very difficult for them. Those who have moved far away may feel like they no longer have anything in common with the classmates they knew so long ago. And some may worry that they aren't successful enough or thin enough or (fill-in-the-blank) enough to mingle with that all-important group of people that they tried so hard to impress when they were coming of age.
Our class may have been more cohesive than some, because we joined together to cheer, over and over, for our winning football and boys' basketball teams. In other ways, though, our class was defined by the same factors that show up in every large group of people. As in any high school class, there were often-overlapping cliques: the popular ones, the athletes, the cheerleaders, the studious ones, the musicians and actors, the movers and shakers, the followers, the risk-takers. Some were quiet, some were outgoing, a few were obnoxious at times. Yet, we grew up together in the same community, all pursuing the same goal. And, 147 of us made it; in May, 1973, we graduated from high school!
So, this past weekend, nearly half of our class joined together to celebrate our teenage years, to remember the thirteen who have died too soon, to renew old friendships and maybe even get to know some people much better than we ever did way back when. Some of us drove just a few miles from Fairbury or somewhere else in Jefferson County, while others drove a hundred miles, or two hundred, or, like me, clear across the state. A few drove across several states, or flew clear across the country, just for the chance to meet up with some old friends. And, we were not disappointed. Our differences faded away as we caught up with each others' lives, shared heartaches and triumphs, offered hugs and support, laughed over the past, and looked forward to the future.
I wonder what those fishermen must have thought as car after car drove over the Rose Creek bridge on Friday night, headed toward Camp Jefferson for the reunion. I wonder how many classmates chuckled, as I did, as our cars weaved their way between those fishermen who must have felt like we were invading their territory. I wonder how many of us squinted through a bug-spattered windshield, trying to find the camp entrance in the dark. I wonder how many were amazed to find that parking was scarce because so many people had come to the reunion. I wonder how many were surprised to find out that we could all have such a good time, even after forty years.
In fact, we had such a great time that we plan to do it all over again in just five more years. That's plenty of time to recruit even more classmates to join us. Whoever said that "we can't go back again"? I think we just did.
Well said!
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