|Kathy, Bonnie, Pam, & Carol '61|
It was a blast seeing my old high school chums. A few reminded me of all the nonsensical things we did when we were teens, most of which I was originally happy to forget; like the time I blew a whole in the ceiling during chemistry class, in our brand new school, because I mixed the wrong chemicals together. The hallways smelled like rotten eggs for months.
The most notable memory was the Section V Basketball Championship Eastridge won in 1961. There was one minute left in the game and Eastridge was one point behind. We all figured we had lost the game by one stinkin' point. Then out of nowhere, with five seconds remaining in the game and nothing to lose, Kenny Oberg lobbed a long ball from the opposite end of the court that went SWISH; the magical sound that signaled our big win. It was one of those spectacular moments we'll never forget.
Our class was unusual because we had no upper class men/women to follow. Why? Because construction was started on the new high school in 1958. There were only enough classrooms to accommodate a freshman class the first year. Additional classrooms were added each year to make room for the students coming in behind us. That's how our class became upper class men/women and subsequently the first graduating class. I guess you could say we were always seniors. As a result of this, we were a tight knit class with 270 plus graduating in 1961.
Now the 18 year old senior class of '61 has turned into 68 year old seniors from the school of hard knocks. The best part of all is we don't act like 68 year old seniors. Most of us don't even look like senior citizens. The rest of us don't give a horse pucky. That's what's nice about getting old; it's a great equailzer.
This is one of those events when we all became weekend teenagers and nobody cared. There were no curfews and no nagging parents. Collectively we turned the clock back and became 18 again, revisiting another era. Remember the Nixon-Kennedy debates and the song Blue Moon? If not, that's okay. Now you can Google the debates or listen to Blue Moon while reading this blog post.
It felt good to get back to my own roots. Roots I have somehow neglected to water and nourish regularly over the years. Moving, marriage, children, grandchildren, divorce, remarriage, death of loved ones, and busy schedules have all compromsied my root system. So, yeah, it was good to go back. It's been 50 years since I've seen most of my old high school friends, but we picked up right where we left off; with a strong support system I know is still there.
I love you, class of '61. Thanks for a fun weekend full of great memories. My roots are now nourished.