Class Reunions

The first copy of this post "disappeared" from this blog. Strange but not unusual for me!  So here it is again.

Have you been to a class reunion lately? Have you refused to go to a class reunion lately? Some  people have distinct views about going or not going....The majority of the alumni love it and count the days until another rolls around.

I just attended an all fifties reunion in Virginia.  All the classes from the 50s were asked to the "Nifty Fifties" reunion.  It was well attended as most reunions go.  A question has begged for an answer:  Why do the ones who never left the area  not attend the reunions? Wouldn't you think  they would be there with bells on?  Of course the  committees who make the plans and do the work are mostly local.  They are a faithful and dedicated group and deserve all the accolades we can give them.

It has been seventeen years since I was able to attend one.  That is a long time when one  is classed in the "senior citizen" grouping.  I was determined to go this time if had to be pushed in a wheelchair. (I wasn't far from that as Mr. Parkinson reared his ugly head on Thursday evening.) I did not sleep one minute that I was aware of.  Now you ladies know what the lack of sleep does to a woman's eyes and face in general.  Forget that I had been using this expensive renewal cream to make me look younger.  I had been told that it was working and I was pleased.  But a sleepless night took care of that.  As the day drew closer I began to wonder if I had made a good decision to push myself to the limit in order to attend this special reunion.

I had another reason that compelled me forward...I would take my latest book...a children's book and donate half of the profits to he scholarship fund.  There was not a line of people clamoring to buy that book .  It seems that every one's grand kids were too old!  Weren't there young greats?  But I made it up in  my other books and was able to donate a nice amount to the fund.

And in closing I would like to give a one sentence observation of class reunions.  Go with an open mind, expecting to have a great time but don't be crushed if that special high school boy friend doesn't recognize you!

Darlene Bays Eichler
Dublin High School Class of 1956

















































Readers, I found a paper copppy of this post tht went missing.  So now w have two posts about the class reunoesssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssin

 

A SPECIAL MEMOIR

Today I feel compelled to write a memoir.  There will be no instructions or memory joggers.  I may break a few rules but this comes from my heart.  This memoir was originally meant to be an eulogy for one of my oldest, dearest friends.  She has been on life support for several days and the doctors little hope for recovery. But her younger son would not give up until he knew for certain his Mother was being kept alive only by mechanical means.  He called yesterday to say that he believed he had witnessed a miracle.  His Mother opened her eyes, and even smiled.  We know that she has a long way to go but as her son said, we'll take whatever we can get, one day at a time.,

A TRIBUTE TO MY FRIEND, AILEEN

It was late spring,(the end of May to be exact) of 1958 in Washington, DC.  A young woman, still a girl, really, walked a few blocks to the "car barn" to take a trolley to a new job.  She felt safe on the trolley, it would go only where the tracks took it.  The shy country girl hoped she wouldn't have to pull the cord for her stop.  She needn't have worried, several riders seemed to be going her way.  Seeing a large building come into sight, she knew this was  the place.  National Geographic.  Her heart skipped a beat as she entered the front door all the while keeping an eye out for the office.  Soon she had filled out the necessary papers and was on her way to her work station,

This country girl felt a little intimidated when she walked into the huge room with many rows of desks almost touching each other. One sole desk sat facing the rows where an older woman was peering over her spectacles perched near the end of her nose.  She reminded the country girl of a
school teacher she had in fifth grade; any minute she might say to  the bodies occupying the rows of desks, "take out pencil and paper and write one hundred times, 'I will not talk in class.'
But she didn't.
Introductions were made and one woman remarked, "Aileen is absent today.  I know you will become friends when you meet.  I never asked her why she felt that way.
But she was so right.  Our friendship began the moment we met.  We introduced out husbands and they became friends.  We were together every week- end.  Her husband was an MP in the Army and I knew they would be gone in a short time.  I tried to put it out of  my mind.  We visited every free attraction in Washington and there were lots of them.  We had little money for entertainment, so we made our own.  One of us had learned to play Canasta and we taught the other three.  We spent many Saturday evenings playing until the wee hours of the morning. One week-end we went to Ocean City and Rehobeth Beach in their Ford convertible.  Only one of us made it to work on Monday and that was the MP!  We had terrible sun burns!
After awhile Aileen left National Geographic to work as a typist at the Library of Congress.  I was lonely at work without her so we made it a point to get together more often during the week. Then there was a change in my life.  I became pregnant and had morning sickness that kept me from going to work. The older lady with the spectacles at the tip of her nose did not understand the needs of a pregnant woman!.  I quit my job and stayed home trying to stay busy.  I knew the day was coming soon when the Heralds would be returning to Indiana and Aileen would not be here for the birth of the baby. There was more to that statement than I could ever have imagined.  I gave birth to twins two months early.  My friend and her husband returned to Washington to see the babies after they came home from the hospital in March.  We made them "unofficial godparents."
The years rolled on and I had two more children and after several years of trying she and Elliot had two sons.  We developed a tradition of visiting them every Thanksgiving--that meant the old West Virginia Turnpike! A snow storm coming or going or both.  Now, is that not proof of a true friendship?
In 1969 a few days after returning from the Indiana Thanksgiving trip we received a call early one morning.  A nurse in a hospital in Louisville told  us our dear friend, Elliott, had passed away from burns received in an accident at work.  Aileen needed us and to please come as soon as possible.
This blog is getting too long and I will close by saying , there were long periods of time we were not in touch but whenever we were it was just like we talked yesterday.  Many stressful and emotional events have taken place since that day in 1969.  There have been divorces, remarriages, serious illnesses, grandchildren, and deaths of parents, great grandchildren  But nothing has weakened the friendship that was forged one day in May, 1958.  I'm praying for your healing, my friend.  Darlene