A couple of weeks ago, nearly 70 people — classmates and some spouses — gathered for my high school class’s 30-year reunion.
You are correct in thinking that I do not look anywhere near old enough to have graduated in 1981, and I appreciate the sentiment.
We’ve now had six of these fetes, and they have all been different for a variety of reasons. In some ways, our reunions have featured all of the usual clichés and expected moments that are common to such events, but not as much as some might think. For the most part, we like each other and always have a good time.
What has fascinated me looking back is that the success or failure of the events, based solely on numbers and exit comments, has almost always been determined well before the actual date. Simply put, if attendees expected to have a good time, they did.
Our first get-together was held during the afternoon at Camp Columbus. We ate, played a little softball, hung out and had a good time, as if it hadn’t really been five years since we’d last seen each other.