Seems like only half a century since we graduated from good ol’ Tascosa and here we were celebrating our 50th reunion this weekend. All the women were just as beautiful as the day we graduated and all the men, well, I’m sure they are all brave. Our exchange student Andy Eklund came all the way from Stockholm and there were those from east and west of the Mississippi, ex-Texas, even a couple currently living in Australia. The majority of the grads live in Texas, though, and probably the majority of those still live in Amarillo, which is not a bad place to live. There are worse.
Joyce seemed to enjoy herself. She knew a number of former Rebels from WT and a little bit of crossover like us. After an informal check-in session and get together Friday evening, we visited the Commons at Tascosa Saturday morning where we renewed a few more acquaintances and were given a tour of the school by the three young ladies pictured above. The school has changed a lot since we were there, both in physical nature through new additions, and in terms of the makeup and size of the student body owing mostly I guess to the inclusion of freshmen. Our guides are from Myanmar where they speak chin. That may not be how they spell it but that’s how they pronounced it. They were sweet girls and one thought she might know who Abigail is. She said there are lots of Abigails at the school but described her as tall and on the volleyball team. They were all three sophomores.
We wound up the reunion with a dinner at Amarillo Country Club Saturday evening. Most of the people I hadn’t seen in 50 years, nor had they seen me. Some were easily recognizable while many looked a lot different, at least to me. Not sure which category I fell in. One of my high school runnin’ buddies Jerry King was there and demonstrated a remarkably creative memory. At times he gave me too much credit while at others her slandered me.
While it was fun to go and see and be seen, it was wearing. By the end of the evening Saturday I was about talked out. I’d heard so many life stories I couldn’t keep them straight. I don’t think I was the only one. One lady Nan Page came up to me several times over the course of the reunion and more than once just on Saturday evening, introduced herself and engaged me pleasant conversation. Not sure, but she may have been messing with me, thinking I was slightly retarded and having a little fun at my expense. That’s not the only time that’s ever happened.
It was sobering to see the pictures displayed on an easel of classmates who have gone on to their reward. Some I knew
about but most I didn’t and was shocked to see some that had passed. I guess that’s to be expected over the course of 50 years. We’ll all get there. It’s just a question of time so the rest of us need to make the best of our time now.