1969 - Such a short time ago....

It was a simpler time, or perhaps that's just the picture in my mind - faded over time, and gathering dust in my attic. Regardless, the memories are mine, and from time to time a current headline will elicit the stark comparison of events over the course of a single lifetime. This past weekend Miss Elizabeth and I attended a milestone event of our own. People from across the country came "home" to celebrate the 50 years that have passed since we all bade goodbye to the high school where dedicated and proficient teachers had prepared us for life outside those hallowed halls.

My memories are of a time when days were whiled away with friends, Dads went to work, Moms stayed home, and people would have civil conversations, even when they disagreed. Schools were places of learning, teachers commanded respect.

My friends then, many of whom are still friends today, were an eclectic bunch. Color didn't seem to matter much to us, even though the National stage produced a different story. My friends were Mexicans, Indians, Blacks and Whites.....neighborhood families that welcomed all of us into their homes. We shared more in common than not. Most of us on my side of town were, shall we say, not "well-to-do". Our parents were for the most part, "working-class" who toiled at blue collar jobs and brought home just enough money for a house, a car, groceries, and clothes. Money was hard-earned, and wisely spent, with little left over for frivolous expenditures. It was just the way things were, and we didn't give it much thought.

Like in so many small towns across America, many of us left soon after graduation to pursue our dreams. College educations were deemed to be important, but so was military service, and many of our classmates chose one or the other. Others became second and third generation owners of the family business, while some started their own. As we mingled among our friends to catch-up on the last fifty years, the stories were as varied and interesting as the people relating them. After all, it was the class of '69, and in our minds, we were all destined for greatness. Our class produced doctors, nurses, lawyers, accountants, actors, engineers, bankers, entrepreneurs, ranchers, and just about every other vocation imaginable. Not unlike thousands of other graduating classes across the country, but this was "our" class and "our" story, and it was great to see how it has played out.

For many, the story continues, but for others, their stories were cut short. As the photos were projected on the wall, their young faces captured from 1969, when life was yet to be lived, but for how long? A few tears were shed for friends lost too soon, and for their dreams which were never fulfilled. Life's a journey, and for some, the journey ended way too soon.

It was good to rekindle those old friendships, some which go back much further than when we graduated. Some friends who were there, I've known since before elementary school. There are very few secrets among friends of that duration, but on the other hand, there are secrets that will never be shared.

Those years were a very special time in our lives, never to be lived again, except in our memories. Just like this weekend, it too, was a very special time, and sadly, the next time we gather there will be fewer of us at the tables, and more of us whose pictures will be projected on the wall.

Life's a journey, and friends make the journey all the sweeter.

Take care all my dear friends, and until we meet again, just remember, I'm Jack, and What Do I Know!