I'm attending my 55th high school reunion this
year,or I think I am. Can 1955 really be 55 years ago?
In a word, yes.
1955 our country boasted only about half the people we
have today, yet back then we knew more of them, and
liked them better. The average annual salary was under
$3,000, but then our home in Hanford, California just 32 miles
south of Fresno, cost only $6,000. Life was good.
Most moms didn't work in 1955. Daycare was going to my
grandparent's home next door. No one was
homeless. Everyone who wanted a job, had one.
Employees were valued back then.
In 1955, we still believed that our
government told the truth and kept its nose out of our
business. How things changed!
In 1955, we trusted strangers. We believed in
ourselves and our country. We weren't so greedy, so
materialistic, so very arrogant. You didn't hear people say the ugly American, I live in Mexico now and I see why people call us that. We cared more about
others a lot more.
We were strong then, and full of promise. And 55 years
ago this month, I thought I would live forever. We all
would.
Well, forever sure ain't what it used to be.
Time, as they say, has flown. Mere whispers of
mortality have now turned to shouts. The you that you
think you are and the you that others see have become
unrecognizable one to the other. Trust me on this.
And now more than ever, we realize that we're not much
different from everyone else. I felt that I was so
unique, so damned special when I graduated from Hanford high
school (Hanford Ca). Then came marriage, jobs, divorce, the navy,
marriage, jobs.
My Brain Now Has A Mind Of Its Own
I'm not the person I used to be. I'm clumsier. I have
less energy. My body often minds me as I did my father and mother
when I was a teenager: begrudgingly, if at all. And my
brain now seems to have a mind all its own, often
telling my body to walk into a room only to let me
wonder why I am there and what in there for.
Is that fair?
Perhaps fairer than the alternative. Probably best to
accept the differences and be grateful for survival.
My importance to the world withers as my age
increases. Even advertisers are no longer
interested in me, only my ailments. These days, for
reasons all too apparent to those of us over 65, I'm
often cranky worse, I
see no reason not to be.
Signs of deterioration appear daily
That's a lot of baggage to carry to a high school
reunion. Fortunately, all my fellow graduates of the
Class of '55 will be struggling with the same thing.
I spent 13 of my first 17 years with many of these
folks, some of whom I haven't seen since graduation day 55 years
ago.
Talk about forever! That's more forever than I ever
dreamed possible in 1955. And, thanks to our advancing
age, I trust that I'll find my classmates happier,
friendlier, more courageous, less judgmental, and far
more at ease with themselves than we could have
imagined 55 years ago.
You see, getting old isn't all bad. And I need this
reunion to take my mind off the sorry state of this
world we inhabit in 2010.
I just pray that I can see well enough to read the
name cards. I just wish things were the way they used to be back in "55",
forever and a day ago.
~Don Humphrey~
"Class of "55"
