Lessons Learned From an Alternative Approach to Reunions

We smiled seeing the old Hitching Post still there, only it has been converted into a print shop.

Back in 1973, it was an alternative for students who didn’t want to eat in the cafeteria. For the Fellowship of Christian Athletes members, it was a way for us to work one of two shifts for a free meal and, most importantly, get out of homeroom class.

Unlike the 17-year-old me, visiting with classmates at our beloved campus 50 years later was a remarkable experience. None of us were sitting still, forcing a smile as we faced Mr. Fred Harding’s camera. From grades one through twelve, we posed for individual school photos. As we progressed to high school the ritual was not so much about facing Mr. Harding, but more as if looking out toward the big, far-off future and all its possibilities.

The 67-year-old me, while not backing away from the future, is in no great hurry for it either. The future is much less far-off and no longer as big.

One reason we wanted to experience a different type of reunion this year, was just so some of us could gather together on the familiar campus some of us had not been to for half a century.

Yes, we’ve had plenty of reunions to experience and explore opportunities to rekindle the past, satisfy curiosities, and even dance just like at our proms.

But there was something we missed along the way. The memories and connection to the here and now are what I missed. I wanted the chance to acknowledge our younger selves in community with those who were part of our lives back then.

Even if some of us didn’t really know each other well in high school, it was all part of who we were and who we became.

One reunion attendee later shared a note on social media remarking that at this reunion the lines had dissolved between the insiders and the outsiders, the cliques had collapsed, the mingling was real.

That was simply delightful news. Time is a leveler. Time is a teacher. And time runs out for all of us.

In the early 1970s, ours was a 4A school, with a population of over 1200 students. We competed in intramural academics and sports competitions with other 4A’s in San Antonio and South Texas.

Because of our numbers, the Harlandale Independent School District had two lunch times: freshmen and sophomores first, juniors and seniors second shift. It was necessary to have a Hitching Post to also meet the lunchtime demands.

Being one of four servers behind the counter, it was my opportunity to see the prettiest junior at McCollum High School, home of the football district champions, the Cowboys.

From my vantage point behind the counter, serving hamburgers, barbecue burgers, sandwiches, chips, snacks and candies, I could watch as Loralyn Bailey entered the double doors at the front, to make her way to my line.

In my 16 year-old eyes, she didn’t just walk down the aisle that divided the numerous picnic tables into two large sections. Loralyn somehow floated, with an angelic-like glide, towards me as the jukebox played such hits as Rod Stewart’s “Maggie May” or “Reason to Believe,” “Tony Orlando’s “Tie a Yellow Ribbon Around the Old Oak Tree,” Elton John’s “Crocodile Rock,” and of course, Elvis Presley’s “Burning Love.”

Loralyn would smile when she reached the counter.  I’d have her pickle and Fritos waiting for her. Never did either of us dream we would be back on campus together, 50 years later–married.

Since 2023, marked the 50th year my class graduated in 1973, and her class began their senior year, we organized a campus tour and lunch to celebrate the occasion. I’ve organized many of the Class of ’73’s reunions (and the first ever All-70s reunion with fellow alumnus Bill Barrett back in 2008).

I’ve noticed that as the older classes aged, it was evident less attendees were showing up. Part of it was due to deaths and sickness, but as I talked with more of them, several concerns were important:

• Night driving was becoming more difficult, especially since the population has boomed, traffic patterns and civility had changed in the Alamo City.

• Senior incomes are lower in many cases. Retirements and mobility issues mean discretionary money is limited if it even exists. The cost of hall rentals, food, refreshments, music and decorations makes attendance impossible or less likely.

• For out-of-towners, it means more effort and financial difficulties with hotel stays, gas, and food prices.

• The most concern was along the lines of “We just want to visit with each other,”  “We’re old and don’t need  loud music to scream over,” to “Hell, I can barely walk so I’m sure as hell not going to dance. If it has to happen, do so for maybe the last hour. We’ll have most of our visiting out of the way by then.”

One classmate told me that at some of the past reunions, “the cliques claimed their tables, and back came that dreadful where-should-I-sit-in-the-lunch-room feeling. I longed for an exit, brooding about a wasted evening, while most of my classmates hugged, laughed, and danced.”

So here we were in 2023, members of the graduating class of ‘73 and senior class of ’74, only now the term “seniors” had a slightly different meaning.

Unlike some of the reunion experiences of the past, this one seemed so connected, cohesive, talking to one another in a remarkably boast-free manner. If anyone brandished their cell phones to show off pictures of their children, grandchildren, or their last vacation, I didn’t see them.

At our 10 year reunion, one-upmanship and other remnants of high school life filled the Tropicana Hotel Ballroom. At 50 years, it didn’t matter if you were a corporate exec or a recluse, a retiree or a workaholic, a PhD or a college dropout. All that mattered was that you had lived long enough to be there.

Interestingly enough, this get-together was actually a three part option:

1. Campus tour hosted by the new, very friendly, and welcoming Principal Jacob Salinas.

We all agreed our high school is in very capable hands as Mr. Salinas is smart, concerned, and conscientious.

2. After the tour, we met in a reserved room at Don Pedro’s Mexican Restaurant, a class favorite.

3. Come to one or the other, or both. The day was customized for everyone. Loralyn (Dodie) and I enjoyed both and actually relished spending time with dear friends (who didn’t take the tour) until evening, finally leaving many hours later.

I’ve run into a lot of people over the years who say they don’t go back to their high school reunions because “I’m not the same person I was then.”

My usual response has been, “No one is. We’ve all changed. Go back and let them see what a wonderful person you are.”

On the way to the school we made sure to have some stick-on name badges and a couple of Sharpie pens “just in case.” Fifty years is a long time.

As we met Mr. Salinas and greeted one another before the tour, I asked if “It would be okay to start off our school day just as we did back then–with a prayer.”

The smiles and glows on their faces brought us back to a time when we did pray each morning together. I was honored to lead our visit together with a prayer.

I forgot who it was now, but one of them told me later, “The peer pressure is gone now. We can be ourselves.”

Mr. Salinas told us that today, the school day begins with “a moment of silence, the Pledge of Allegiance, and the Texas Pledge.”

Many of our class members long ago started giving their testimonies for their faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. I doubt if any of us know or care what denomination anyone belongs to now. We just believe together.

During a conversation with Russell Morgenroth, a football player who was on the first and second teams to ever win district championships in our history, the topic of those who had deceased came up.

Familiar names of dear friends like Larry Seidel, Larry Rose, Steve Price, Pete Funari, and Paul Stark were mentioned.

“They couldn’t go to this reunion,” Russell said. “But I could.”

If anyone our age has qualms about going to your reunions (school tours, restaurant get-togethers, etc.), if you are able, go just for the simple fact and joy that you’re still alive. It’s an honor and a privilege to be able to attend. Being alive is the point: it’s everything. 

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IN GOD WE TRUST

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