I grew up in Buffalo New York at a time of segregation. ...so glad that We've eliminated segregated neighborhoods. If a minority (read: black) family moved into the neighborhood, all the white families moved out....shame on us. The result is, neighborhoods deteriorated and no one I know, still lives in "the old neighborhood". When the old gang graduated from school, every one scattered. It was impossible to keep track of friends from childhood. By a miracle, I am friends with a few. They are treasures to me...people who knew me when I was a little skinny girl, afraid to speak up, ignorant and incompetent. I've come a long ways from my roots, baby.
From time to time, I wonder where those people are now. How did their lives unfold? Is someone living close to me and I don't know it? Would they be interested in how my life unfolded? If someone mentioned my name, would the other person say, "Who?" Are We all fat and grey? Who died?
There was a big surprise in the mail the other day. My elementary school is having a reunion. How did the organizers of this event, ever find me and my classmates? We've never had a reunion, ever. The last time I saw those people...the kids in my neighborhood, We were in eighth grade. Now We are retired. That is a long stretch of time. Included with the invitation, is a list of names and addresses of my classmates. Hurray! The day is spent on the Internet, e-mailing some of the women who graduated with me. In sorrow and shock, I read the list of 11 names of my deceased classmates. Roger was a brittle diabetic. I am not surprised his name is on the list. But, Don was an athlete and a good one. His name is also on the list.
I read over the history of the school and the list of the succession of school principals. My principal is the second last one. The building is now an early childhood center. No more eighth grade graduations from PS 61.
There is also a list of deceased teachers. Every teacher I learned from is deceased. I suppose this is to be expected, as those dedicated men and women were my parent's age. Reading over the list of names and dates, brings back so many memories. Of course I am going to the reunion.
From time to time, I wonder where those people are now. How did their lives unfold? Is someone living close to me and I don't know it? Would they be interested in how my life unfolded? If someone mentioned my name, would the other person say, "Who?" Are We all fat and grey? Who died?
There was a big surprise in the mail the other day. My elementary school is having a reunion. How did the organizers of this event, ever find me and my classmates? We've never had a reunion, ever. The last time I saw those people...the kids in my neighborhood, We were in eighth grade. Now We are retired. That is a long stretch of time. Included with the invitation, is a list of names and addresses of my classmates. Hurray! The day is spent on the Internet, e-mailing some of the women who graduated with me. In sorrow and shock, I read the list of 11 names of my deceased classmates. Roger was a brittle diabetic. I am not surprised his name is on the list. But, Don was an athlete and a good one. His name is also on the list.
I read over the history of the school and the list of the succession of school principals. My principal is the second last one. The building is now an early childhood center. No more eighth grade graduations from PS 61.
There is also a list of deceased teachers. Every teacher I learned from is deceased. I suppose this is to be expected, as those dedicated men and women were my parent's age. Reading over the list of names and dates, brings back so many memories. Of course I am going to the reunion.
posted by gardenbug at Monday, July 03, 2006
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