Archived Story

Write Again … Alma mater calls us home

Published 11:44pm Monday, September 24, 2012

The Washington High School Class of 1957 is holding a 55th year reunion in October.
This will be a low-key, simple, one-night dinner. That’s it. On our 50th anniversary observance we had a two-day, multi-event weekend. It was quite nice.
From the time we began planning for our 50th in November of the year preceding, until a little less than just one year later, we lost six members of our class. Three before the event, and three after. They received their final promotion. God bless them.
There were 112 in our graduating class, which is small by today’s standards. We were the last class to ever attend the old high school. And no, I’m not talking about the school on Eighth Street. I’m talking about the “old high school.” The one that was on the corner of Bridge (Highway 17) and Second Street. Another time.
Reunions are something I approach with mixed emotions. I’m always saddened when thinking of those dear friends, with whom I shared the growing up years, who are no longer with us. I guess “real men” might think that I’m an over-sentimental, feminine type of fellow. That just shows their ignorance, and besides, I don’t care what they think.
As always, there will be those classmates who won’t come. Some who even live here just won’t attend such affairs. Well, God bless them too.
Anyway, we are going to get together in October. We who remember the school colors as navy and white (no silver, thank you). And the school songs were “Washington, Our Alma Mater” and “Rah, Rah, for Pam Pack.” That’s all changed. Sad, and so wrong to tamper with tradition.
Such occasions tend to set me thinking in “reverse.” Too much immersion in nostalgia isn’t really helpful. Think ahead; look forward not backward; it’s all about the future. Yeah. Sure. Whatever …
Anyway. I’m grateful to still be here. To have good friends. To have such occasions to observe, and share with others.
And … to have such sweet memories.
APROPOS — “Life is all memory, except for the one present moment that goes by you so quick you hardly catch it going.”
— Tennessee Williams

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