Our class was defined by; hippies, the drug culture, long hair, short dresses, denim, rock and roll and disobedience. It was a time that made us think, express and create in ways that still influence us today.
Way back in 1975 at the first class reunion you could spoof yourself into believing that you were immortal and that you would enjoy an endless succession of get-togethers. But after hitting 58, you cross the threshold of denial . . . it was reflected on the faces around me. Yes, we are aging . . . some more gracefully than others I might add. There were the usual assortment of mid-life health problems. Many were troubled with bad backs, hips and knees. I consider myself very fortunate and blessed indeed to not have any health problems.
Through all the passion and loathing, births and deaths, achievements and failures, the sorrows and the joys of living for 50 plus years . . . these are the people I knew way back when. The nerds, the partiers, the jocks, the clowns, and the dreamers and schemers. There is just something nostalgic about seeing old friends. Why is it that the stories never grow old . . . only the people who are telling them.
Judy, Cheryl, Me, Pam, Becky
Class of 1970