PHS Class of 1965's 50th (Pasadena, Texas)

Several years ago I wrote a blog entry about my experience with my High School Reunions. In that blog I spoke about how I felt neglected because I never seemed to get an invitation; about my anxiety that no one would remember me or even want to include me in discussions; how that after 25 years I finally face my concerns and fears and decided that I was going . . . appreciated or not.

So, Susan and I paid the registration fee and went. I have to confess had I not already paid the registration fee I might have at the last minute backed out of going. But I didn’t and we went.  Much to my surprise it was a pleasant weekend. Oh, to be sure, many of the people there that year seemed to have been keeping in touch with each other ever since graduation. At my table we were all first timers at a reunion and vaguely even knew each other in High School. However, after a few moments we were engaged in a lively discussion. We played a little game of lets name whose going to hang out with whom.

25th. Reunion Group Photo

I remember that year for another reason. Seems that word came that someone on the way to the reunion was in a bad car accident and the reunion leadership knowing I was the only pastor there called on me to pray for the folks in the accident. So I guess you could say I was one of the program personalities.

I also remember there was a class member who had discovered the bar a little early and by the time the actual program started was pretty much “three sheets to the wind.”  Susan kept asking who she was because she kept finding her way back to our table and repeating the same thick-tongued story. Do I know she was? Yes! Am I telling? No! Have I ever said who it was? Yes but only to my wife. People’s dignity, especially old friends, must be protected even if it is from themselves.

The other thing about the reunion that has stuck with me was the fellow who was there and had apparently recently lost his job.  He too had found that bar early on and indulged freely.  What I recall is that he followed me all over the lobby area asking about a job. I had none to offer and didn’t know anyone hiring and told him so. He still hung in there persisting with his need for a job. I thought to myself, “I’ll just duck in the restroom and maybe he’ll latch onto someone else . . . maybe someone who could help him.”  But no fate wouldn't have any of it. He followed me right into the restroom . . . right up to the stall and just kept inquiring about a job.  He too shall remain anonymous.

All that aside, I had a wonderful time at the reunion. Reconnected with a few High School buddies, shared a million stories (stories that the retelling was better than when they really happened. Came away feeling that nothing much had changed. Most of us were still pretty much the same self-absorbed, wanting to impress people we barely knew with our successes and generally superficially friendly.

Now fast forward 20 years and it is the 45th PHSClass of 1965 reunion.  Now understand there were

45th. Reunion Group Photo

a few between these two but these are the two I attended. What a difference. Now those people who having attended all the meetings held between the 25^th and the 45 might not have noticed but I did. 

Most of us are now sixty-plus years old.  Our children are grown and married. Heck, some of us have grandchildren that are now grown. We used to group ourselves as we did in High School but now we gravitate toward those with common life experiences and not so much the old high school clubs, sports, etc. To be sure those are still there as well they should be. They just no longer define us. 

 Too be sure we still remember the “Good Old Days” better than they really were but that’s what we, at our ages, get to do. By the time three or four of us had recited the same story we pretty well had it right. Interestingly enough, most of the conversation was about, “What have you been doing with yourself lately?”  Pictures of grandchildren were coming out as, thanks to Rodney Norton, nostalgic music from our time in the sun was being played.  A few even gave it a turn on the dance floor.  Then after a great dinner, a remembrance of friends who had passed on, a group photo followed by a balloon release and it was pretty much over.  We all rushed to our chariots before they turned to pumpkins as our Cinderella experience came to an end.  

I heard there were a few who complained about this or that and one or two had to eat alone because there was not enough seating or food. That’s really too bad because all in all it was a terrific time for me. I came away enriched by it all.  I was especially enriched as I learned of the life experiences of classmates like Sam (Tim) Gentry and his friend and classmate Ray Verducci and others.

Mark Your Calendar for October 2015

Most of us are now sneaking up on 70 and some of us are deeply involved in planning what probably will be our last "official" reunion (By the way, if you would like to help just let me know). Did you catch that? I began this story with feelings of being left out and now I’m speaking of being “deeply involved.”  That’s what happens when you face your fears and anxieties head on and move beyond them.  When I think about it I realize if I had just overcome my anxieties and laid aside my preconceptions how much richer would my life be because of the friendships that might have developed and deepened. I robbed myself of the opportunity to get to know and appreciate the people my classmates have become and as I did I also robbed them of the opportunity to know me as well.

I believe there is a longing in every life to at some point go back to the place where it all started. For some that means going back to the physical place and old familiar surroundings. Trust me, that is not what you want. I have done that and while it sparks a lot of wonderful memories the deplorable condition of the place we called home in those days will only depress you. No it was not so much the buildings and streets. They were just pegs on which I hung my memories. My memories are of our shared experience in and among those now dilapidated, deteriorating and demolished buildings. You, dear friends, are a major part of what makes the years at PHS among the best years of my life. Thank you for sharing those years with me and all of us who form the PHS Class of 1965. It was you, me and the whole bunch of us who together created that world in which we moved from childhood to being men and women fully grown.  

After high school our paths went in hundreds of directions. We went out and made our little marks on the world . Now we are facing the sunset years of our lives and somewhere there is within each of us a feeling long buried, deeply held and now being felt anew that its about time we went back to where we started. Back to where it all began.  I feel it and I believe you will too. Just pause for a few moments and think about it and let those old feelings begin to rise. It is that desire to go back home one last time. There is that innate desire that like the swallows of Capistrano call us home one more time. Even the Bible starts with "In the Beginning and ends with going home. It is the natural order of things.

I remember leading us in prayer at our 45^th reunion as we remembered our classmates who had died. I recall asking everyone there to look at the person their left and then the person on their right and saying “One of those people may not be able to attend our next reunion because they will either have a catastrophic illness or will have died before we once again gather as the PHS Class of 1965. Friends, in my mind these are the only two reason you should miss the 50^th Reunion of the Pasadena High School Class of 1965.  The truth is those who are so ill they can’t attend and those who have died WILL be there because we will be holding them in our hearts and in our memories.

I don’t know how the 50^th Reunion of the PHS Class of 1965 will turn out. I don’t know what memories it will hold and how many it will produce.  What I do know is that is the last one on which I will work and I know that without YOU it will not be everything it could be and that we hope it to be. So come on and join us . . . it will be fun and you'll be glad you did.

"We are the Eagles." “What kind of Eagles?” “Pasadena Eagles!" followed by "We Want Baldy! We Want Baldy!" Only now all the balding guys stand-up.





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Addendum: A Personal Word 

Very quickly let me say a word or two to those who did not find their High School years in Pasadena to be a “high water” mark in their lives. Bad things happened to and around you during those days. I know a few people for whom this is the case. Maybe you think returning for a reunion will open old wounds. Well, it might do just that but it might also be the very place where those wounds are healed and not just covered over. And for a couple of people I know personally where this may be the case. I want to remind you that despite the pain you and I shared some great significant moments in each other’s  life and I cannot think of anyone I would like to see more today than the best friend I had in High School . . . hope to see you there.

Picked this part of the larger photo because I am in this part . . . yep, that's right, it's all about me.