The room was ablaze with school colors. Bright red and black table cloths adorned with beautiful white mums created a festive atmosphere. At one end of the room was stacked yearbooks with specific notations to the various class members. The background music was ‘love songs, punctuated with ‘rock and roll.’ Yes, tonight was the class reunion of the class of 1959. It was number 59.
As the class members entered the large room it was evident their vision was not as keen as it once was. Their hearing not as acute. Their step was guarded. However, the smile on their face was reminiscent of a night at the ‘sock hop’. Broad smiles and gentle laughter marked the beginning of a night to remember. This is the generation when ‘the Platters’ were the number one singing group and their song ‘Only You’ brought back thoughts of holding that someone special as you danced to their music.
A game of trivia with questions covering events in 1959 brought rounds of laughter and an occasional ‘you got to be kidding.’
At our previous reunions discussions centered around success as measured by occupations, children, grandchildren, where you lived. This time the talk centered not on material successes but on recognizing people for who they are, the sacrifices they had made and the services they had rendered. It was refreshing to have moved from a World’s model which measures value in terms of wealth, fame and power to a model which measures value in who you are.
We had to have an earlier departure than at our previous reunions where we stayed until the late hours. After all, we had to get home before dark.
Beautiful and rich is an old friendship
Grateful to the touch as ancient ivory.
Smooth as aged wine, or sheen of tapestry
Where light has lingered, intimate and long.
Full of tears and warm is an old friendship
That asks no longer deeds of gallantry.
Or any deed at all—save that the friendship
Alive and breathing somewhere, like a