Yesterdays

Ralph Erickson in 1962 Senior Class Picture

Ralph Now

Let me set the scene:

Poulsbo, 11:00 a.m., Thursday, July 17, 2008

A grey, moistly foggy day after five straight days of summer sun (only in the Pacific Northwest)

Poulsbo is busy, regardless of the fog, with "boat people" and touristas jamming the sidewalks, obviously having dressed that morning expecting warmer weather. I am heading toward a restaurant I have never been in and to an event I am hoping will not be uncomfortable, though it has all the potential to be.

***

The Bayside Broiler, up a strange, steep set of stairs into a dimly lit, rococo style, probably once cigarette smoke-scented set of illogical rooms, is not jammed but at the end of a hallway are people milling around, almost a reception line of vaguely familiar faces. I go toward this light at the end of the tunnel to be asked, "Who are you?" This question, in different circumstances, would be off-putting and a challenge to my right to be there, but on this occasion it is the question of the day, for the event beginning to take shape is a reunion lunch. The reunion lunch is for high school alumni from Central Kitsap's Class of '62. Some of the faces in front of me show traces of the eighteen year olds I knew, but some seem to be absolute strangers.

***

"I'm Chris Eddy" I respond to that first challenge, "Who are you?!"

"We were just looking at a picture of you on the steps with Beau in the old school paper!" says the stranger. Obviously, he is way ahead of me! He knows who I am, has been looking at a picture of me and knows who Beau was (is). There is a surrealism creeping in.

***

Then I look to my left, where the "old school paper with you and Beau" is indicated and there is my dear old friend, Marty. An incredible surprise because she hadn't told me she was coming. Her I recognize! And my comfort level zips up to maximum. I have an anchor! And next to her is Linda Greaves, another anchor. Then I see Ralph Erickson, who has taken on the position as Class Crier--hear ye, hear ye, come to the lunch--the next reunion--here is news. He is keeping us connected, sending emails to a big list of old grads, informing us of the fun news and the sad news, helping us to find old friends. My first hug is for great big, bearded, bear of a man, Ralph.

And then the faces--vestiges of 18, evidence of time. I am introduced to Stevie Kemp and cannot find the Stevie I knew in her face. How can this be? Later, when she is taking her high school annual around for autographs, I begin to see the Stevie I knew back then, energetic, smart, friendly. Someone says, "that's Nancy over there" and I think they mean Nancy Kvinsland and there is no trace of Nancy Kvinsland in her face. I look and stare and gape and finally I go around the table to her and give her a hug. I think I'm hugging Nancy Kvinsland and then this Nancy reports that she is Nancy Goit and lo and behold it IS Nancy Goit and I can see the Nancy of 1962 and I am so relieved that she is not Nancy Kvinsland because that would have blown my mind too completely. We've all changed, but NOT THAT MUCH! I spot Terry Scatena, who looks exactly like 18 year old Terry, but with a mustach. I see Jim Peterson, a guy who I enjoyed great, silly conversations with in school, and he is THE SAME! How can that be?

***

Nobody recognizes me except Linda, Marty and Joyia, who I saw last year at the place I used to work. Joyia is another who I would recognize anywhere. My old friends Jeanette and Billie Ann come in together and because I saw them last year at our 45th reunion, I have no trouble figuring out who they are. Jeanette pulls me to her and whispers, "You look like your Mother". I know I do, except that my hair is white and my Mother never let hers go white, always dying it and now wearing a wig. It's a compliment from Jeanette, who I used to play War with on her bed, and who knew that my Mom and her Dad dated seriously in high school and could have married. I would have been Jeanette or she would have been me.

***

Sandra Harkins appears and all heads turn, because somehow Sandra has kept her hair beautiful and blond and wavy and has kept her figure fit and curvy. There is no question who Sandra is and there is no question when John Sleasman walks in either. He also is fit and assured, as he always was.

***

What I like best, though, is the people who were on the fringes in high school, who I didn't know very well, who have become themselves over the years. In high school they were subdued, nearly invisible, but now they have led lives, sometimes successful in society's eye and sometimes not, but still, 46 years of living and surviving has shaped them into substantial beings with history on their faces. I sat next to Larry McConnell, who told me about all the cruises he'd been on and how he'd given a cruise to his kids for their honeymoon, who promised to give him a grandchild in return. I talked to Margy Reis, who nobody remembered. She seemed exotic; tanned, jeweled, blond, surely she just flew in from New Mexico or somewhere hot and artsy! It turned out she had lost her husband not long ago and was living in Allyn, far from everything and everyone, but staying in the house she and her husband had loved together, not ready to move on in order to be closer to security and family. Roseanne Carlson was an amazing surprise. I remember Roseanne as being a quiet person. She was one of the few of us who wore glasses already. But that's not the person I spoke with yesterday. She lives alone, she was once married and clearly, clearly will never make THAT mistake again. She was outspoken, delightful and surprisingly, so far from the image I had of Roseanne, wore a diamond-studded, golden wristwatch! And except for the glasses, I didn't recognize her at all in personality OR visually!

***

I talked to Nancy Goit. It is hard for me to remember exactly how I viewed Nancy in high school. She was smart, she was fun-loving, she may have been a little wilder than me. She wasn't a member of our slumber-party group. But she had a presence; she did not fade into the background. Now she is gray-haired, verging on grandmotherly looking because of her sweet, soft features, with remarkable energy and wit and the most wonderfully alive blue eyes! She could be my best friend--it is one of those feelings you get when you meet someone, or re-meet someone--I KNOW her, I am like her, we could have fun together. It was a revelation to reconnect with her. I hope she is in my future.

***

All of us at the long table are 64 years old, and we talked of arthritis, bad memory, frustrations with our bodies. We compared swollen knuckles and stories of clumsiness, surgeries and ingury. We related stories of ex-husbands, deceased husbands, current husbands. We spoke of deaths becoming more frequent in our lives. Nancy spoke about her friends retiring and moving away. Most of us are retired but many are still working or are working part time. We all look forward to being 65 and getting ALL the Senior Discounts! Linda told me how to get a Senior ferry ticket without having to show an ID! We talked about one of the truly important parts of our lives:

***

"How many grandchildren do you have?"

" We moved back to Washington because of our grandchild."

" I travel to other states to see my grandchildren."

"I wish my grandchildren lived next door."

***

Surprisingly, none of us pulled out any pictures of our precious grandbabies. I think we were there for memories and more. That's why I went. For decades, since the 20 year reunion, I have avoided all the reunions. I had divorced again, I had remarried again, I felt fat, my face was sagging, I felt unsuccessful, I was afraid, I was not interested, it didn't matter.

***

But when you are 46 years away from being a senior in high school, you are nearly 65, your peers are dying, you are getting old and your body proves it every day, there is some need that takes over. These are the people you grew up with. They may be closer to you than your cousins. They are important in your history. They knew you when. They know what you are going through now. They lived in the same town. They knew the same people you did. They knew your parents. They have had 46 years of living to share with you. They have learned lessons and they are often wise.

***

Going to a reunion doesn't recapture youth. A person shouldn't go to a reunion for that, because that expectation will be disappointed. What a high school reunion does do is show us who we were then and where we are now. It bursts images of ourselves and those images we've held of others. Reunions show us evolution. I believe these reunions are going to make me a better person. I know that is a hifalutin' thing to say, but I do believe it. If I open my heart to see all these people as they once were and as they are now, that's what will happen.

***

In closing, I would just like to say I HAVE to find out how Sandy Harkins keeps her hair so nice! And now I know my arthritis is not unusual and everybody ages! Except for maybe Dean Johnson, Linda Greaves, Terry Scatina and Jim Peterson.

***

And thank you, Ralph, for instigating, encouraging and gently nudging us to overcome our fears and jump right in. You are a Prince.