Returning to a place after 50 years is a bittersweet experience. One notices the decline of the buildings, roads and street signs and the valiant attempt of the merchants to "spruce up Main Street" for Homecoming.
The high school from which I graduated burned sometime in the 80's, so we bore no attachment to the new school ( which, by the way, was the nicest building in town).
As I met and talked with my classmates (we have all morphed into gray-haired seniors with lined faces--all except my friend Joye), it was interesting to note that some traits do not disappear with time. Generally those who were leaders in our class still appear to be so. Those who were quiet and in the background were the same at the reunion. It was nice to see one who had the hardest time growing up (single mother of unknown ethnicity, rough home life, etc.) became the only one in the class with a terminal degree--in math no less. I would like to have know what they thought of me at age 68.
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