Sunday morning

There are several ways in which we know we’re getting old.  One is when you look in the mirror and see only a vague reminder of the person you once were.  Another way is when you see  your own children aging.  But, undeniably, one of the best indicators of age is when you meet with a group of people you knew from childhood or teenage years.

Last night I attended the 45th year reunion of the Class of 1964 from Richlands (VA) High School.  Thirty members of the graduating class were in attendance.  A memorable evening was had.  The conversation was wonderful.  There were lots of smiles and laughter at “remember whens.”  And of course there was a considerable amount of “What have you been doing?”

The usual awards were presented – traveled fartherest:  Carolyn Peery from D.C.; Married longest:  Eddie and Elaine Ratliff; Most children or grandchildren:  (Fellow Guild Member) Charles D Whitt. Dearly departed members were  remembered.  VietNam era Veterans were honored.

My favorite story from the evening, however, has to be about a close encounter with an armadillo by one friend.  While on military training maneuvers in West Texas, where it can get awfully cold at night – especially if you’re sleeping in a tent, as he was, this fellow recounts being curled up in a near fetal position in an effort to conserve body heat.  Well into the night, he wakes up to the feeling of something curled up against his stomach – obviously also seeking protection from the cold night.   He finds a light, switches it on, only to discover his new bed partner to be none other than the infamous armored West Texas rodent.  “Well,” he says, “I screamed like a girl.”  Other lights came running to further illuminate the cause of alarm.  Obviously expecting to find a Texas Rattler, the others had a good laugh of relief – at his expense, as the poor critter shuffled away in digust at the whole thing. 

I like reunions – what can I say.  I think every good story deserves a sequel.  So, this was a sequel to graduating in 1964 and going our separate ways.  It’s nice to fill in the blanks.  Here’s to the class of ’64.  See you again in 2014.

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