I've been thinking about the past lately, even more than usual. It's been fifty years since I graduated from high school. Not unusually my class is planning a reunion. They've had several others, none of which I attended, although I was aware of them and enjoyed looking at the photographs posted online. Having moved away from San Antonio shortly after leaving high school, I lost touch with most of my high school classmates soon after graduation. But, on the other hand, I have stayed close to a very small circle of school friends who went on to attend the University of Texas in Austin. And I'm still remarkably close to my wife, who was also a classmate.
I have some fond memories of high school, and some lingering curiosity about some of the friends I've lost touch with over the intervening years, but that was a long time ago in a universe now far, far away. And when I look at the plans for the upcoming reunion, I find so few of my old high school companions are likely to attend, even among those I've remained in touch with. What would it be like to be surrounded by a room full of strangers who knew you when you were a kid? What does one discuss? Old times or all the intervening experiences we have not shared? What is it we would all have in common after so many years? These are the questions I find myself asking.
Memories, as I have discovered, are often very selective in details. I look at the old high school yearbooks, and I see the photographs of specific moments frozen in time, and I almost feel I'm back there. But then I see more recent photos of some of my classmates, and I wonder, are these really the same people? Of course, they are, and they aren't. Just as I am and am not the same skinny clueless kid with the smirk on his face in so many of those old yearbook photos. It would be interesting to renew some old acquaintances, but alas most of us were never really that close fifty years ago. What we now have in common is mostly endurance and a rather tenuous grip on a few shared experiences when we were young and trying to figure out who we were, or who we wanted to be. It might be entertaining to compare notes after so many years, but it might also be just as well to hold on to the memories.
None of this, however, explains the grip that high school seems to have on us. Perhaps it really is similar to any intensely concentrated experience shared among a group of individuals -- something like being in prison together. That sharing creates a bond that is more or less permanent. And when it occurs while we are still young and impressionable, it leaves an almost indelible mark. Perhaps kids who had little time for one another fifty years ago are now curious to know what happened to each other once we all got out and made our way in the larger world. Perhaps the whole idea really is just to celebrate our endurance, because, finally, that is most likely what we now have in common. That and some awkward moments together when we were teenagers.
So, will I be attending this reunion? I'm not really sure. If I knew that a few of my closest school friends were going to be there, the ones I've lost touch with, those who haven't died in the intervening years, I would be much more certain. But as it is, I'm still reluctant to commit to a weekend walking down memory lanes that are likely to be rather tangled with fifty years of overgrowth. Could make for some tough going, and I'm a notoriously lazy person, although also sentimental and nostalgic. In the meanwhile I will continue to contemplate this strange fascination we seem to have with our school days. I suspect it's mainly because we were all so young, and youth does have its attractions, especially after fifty years.
4 comments:
Hmmm...interesting thoughts. However, I think it is more than just high school friends -- a lot of the youngsters we graduated with we actually started school with so they were an integral part of our day and our maturation for twelve impressionable years. That is pretty significant. I have reconnected with several women and one gentleman who I have "known" since elementary school even though many years have passed since graduation. As we have mulled over "old times" I remember things about each and every one of them and am more aware now, than then, the impact that our friendships (or not) have had on my attitudes growing up. It is a curious dynamic and yes, I would like to visit with some of these people in a different setting than a reunion. I went to one of mine and two of Allen's and it is not something that I would consider fun. By the way, Jan Carrico says to tell you and Joy "hi". Her aunt, Louie Lee Carrico was Aunt Linnie's teacher at Olmos when it was a two room school where Nimitiz now stands. Such a small world. You should go to the reunion but don't expect much -- hopefully the food will be good.
I don't know about the reunion yet, but I'm always interested in Olmos School which my mother and aunt Gay also attended. I still have the last 48-star American flag from the school room, given to me by my grandmother. The Horns donated the land for the school, and stipulated it should only and always be used for a school, thus the reason Nimitz was built there after the old Olmos School closed. I think Joy has some photos of the school building. Have you seen them?
I think I have seen one on her family blog which I don't have access to anymore since she made it private. I remember going for Sunday drives with PaPa and we would head out Blanco Rd. Joy and I were fascinated with that little school, we always wondered what it looked like on the inside and I had a vision of desks and books and everything just being there like it was when Linnie was there. Of course, it was empty but we always wanted to stop and look in the windows -- our imaginations were probably much more exciting.
That is really cool that you have the flag from the school. What a wonderful thing to have.
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