I’ve been told most high school graduating classes get together every decade or so. Some never get together. They “move on”. We were blessed to live in a small town (Pleasanton) and had a small class that doubled overnight when San Ramon/Dublin was added to the school district. A lot of us grew up together. We liked each other. After graduation and the loss of a good friend in Vietnam and another to cancer, our class president and a tag team tracked down everyone they could, and we started having annual reunions in someone’s home and backyard. Many of us grew up together, in my case, from kindergarten through high school. (Rick was a new kid who arrived in fifth grade.) Time is precious, no matter what age you are, and friends are one of life’s greatest treasures.
Rick and I hosted this year’s reunion – our 60th! We had a houseful of friends and friends of friends adopted into our class (wives, friends of classmates, etc.). It was a blast from the past with a few newbies! Our wonderful neighbors didn’t mind golden oldies from the 60’s blaring. We’re a casual bunch. None of those fancy sit-down dinners for us. A couple of guys barbecued hamburgers and hot dogs and everyone brought side dishes and desserts to share. We filled the fridge in the garage with water, sodas, tea and even classic Coke in bottles (of course). A few brought beer and wine, but no one opened either. The wild bunch (JDAUs –Juvenile Delinquents Alcoholics Unanimous) had all grown up.
The wonderful part of old friends getting together is picking up where you left off. We spread out the yearbooks, remembered the “good old days”, told stories on each other and laughed until our sides ached. Conversations nowadays often include our health challenges. Who doesn’t have a few at 78? And we reminisced about good friends who have passed on – 37 over the years. One friend keeps track and sets up a memorial of pictures. Friends lost but not forgotten. A few of us have even made the trip to Washington, D.C. to pay respects to those we loved named on the Vietnam Memorial.
We often say we grew up in Camelot — a small town where we felt safe and had fun. We had heavy dial phones with four-digit numbers, watched black-and-white TV (maybe 2 stations), played outside and rode bikes everywhere. We played marbles, hopscotch, tetherball, did tricks on the monkey bars and played board games. We bought candy and Mad Magazine at the little bus depot, ate hamburgers, fries and frosties at Fisher’s. For “kicks”, we explored the cemetery at night with flashlights while telling stories of ghouls and ghosts. We cruised Main Street, ate pizza at the Gay 90s (still there), went to movies and when the fair came to town, hung out at the rides. We had a great time growing up.
Friendships can last a lifetime. Do you want to have a reunion? It only takes a few to get the ball rolling. Good times and good memories are worth keeping alive. Keep making new friends but treasure the old. They’re more valuable than gold.