Reunion

In the mail recently, I received a hand-addressed envelope with a return address which I did not recognize. I rarely receive personal letters since the advent of e-mail, so I was curious about the contents. Inside the envelope was a printed letter from a woman. The letter did not contain a letterhead and was not written in the classic form of a business letter. It was more of a printed e-mail message.

The letter was short and to the point. It asked if I was the person who graduated from a certain parochial grammar school in Queens, New York in 1961. It went on to say that there was a plan afoot to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the graduating class of 1961 in 2011, almost four years in the future.

My first reaction was one of astonishment. The people I graduated with in 1961 are strangers to me. Except for one who I ran into years later when we both belonged to the same professional organization, I’ve had no contact with any of them since we graduated. We each went our separate ways and so much has happened, at least in my life, since that graduation day, that grammar school seems like ancient history.

My second reaction was: Why would anyone care, after 50 years? Was someone trying to relive old memories?

In my opinion, class reunions have two negative ramifications: (1) to make certain people feel superior to their less successful former classmates, and (2) to humiliate the less successful former classmates.

Personally, I can satisfy both these objectives simultaneously by simply looking in the mirror.

As it happens, I still have the booklet my diploma came in. On the inside cover there is a picture of the pastor of the parish church. Interestingly, there is not a picture of the nun who was the school principal. I guess women’s lib was a long way off in 1961. The pastor’s picture was surrounded by 50 smaller individuals pictures of the students in my 8th grade class. There were 24 females on top and 26 male students below. Other than my hair color and the nerdy look on my face in the photograph, I’m quite recognizable.

There were actually two 8th grade classes that year, so about 100 students graduated in 1961. How many are still around is anybody’s guess. Nevertheless, someone found me. As I think back on those days 46 years ago, with 50 students to a class, it’s a wonder we ever learned anything in grammar school.

Actually, those nuns were very good teachers.

I still have the ruler marks to prove it.