The gang looks good.
There were twenty of us, including husbands and wives, from the Class of 1971 that gathered in what I still think of as the Lower School Gym, now an auditorium named after a former headmaster. For a class of 47 that has lost some to death, others to distance, it was a good turn-out. Some faces were easy to recognize thanks to Facebook and the fact that even after forty years, some faces never lose their unique qualities; a smile or a profile, and some voices have never changed beyond what I remember from the classroom.
After the reception and a tour of the school, since remodeled and grown in so many ways over the years, we all gathered for dinner in a restaurant in a private room, settled around a large table, and talking up a storm.
We all got to tell our stories, all of them laced with good humor and tales of accomplishment, but also leavened with experiences of life. What amazed me was the ease at which we were able to bring things long forgotten back to the fore; some good memories, some bad; some comic, some tragic. We have all faced the ravages of time, of disappointment, but also joy and blessings.
Tonight we will gather again for a formal dinner and dancing at a local country club. There will be pictures and more tales and more laughter and probably a few tears. The one thing we are sure of is that we will not let another ten or more years pass before doing this again. The friendships and bonds and rivalries we formed all those years ago and renewed now will not be so easily cut again.