Like graduations, spring is also a time for college reunions. I understand that reunion programs can vary widely from school to school, particularly in the larger ones but when it comes to hosting a reunion weekend, my little alma mater does a pretty bang up job.
I haven’t attended every reunion in our quinquennium reunion cycle, but I’ve been to more than a few and I’ve always had a great time. Not only do I reconnect with old classmates, I also get to interact with other generations that passed through the same halls and grounds on their way to adulthood. We share a common bond from a formative time of our lives that allows us to relate to each other across the decades that separate us.
This year the oldest class in attendance at my reunion was the Class of 57. The initiates to our five year tribal gathering were the Class of 2007. Like my own clan did thirty years ago, the twentysomethings kept the party going until the wee hours of the morning. At the other end of continuum, the thinning ranks of classes older than ’57 were consolidated into a “golden” group. The oldest registered attendee was from the class of 1936.
This morning, in the courtesy shuttle back to the airport, four generations of alumni were represented. There was a guy from
Los Angeles from the Class of 1962, a couple from Fort Lauderdale from the Class of 2002, Ellicott City from the Class of 1977 and with our Cleveland
native shuttle driver, the Class of 2013. Though none of us had ever
met before, in no time at all each was sharing stories and experiences. By the
time we arrived at the airport everyone wished each other a safe journey home
and expressed a hope that we’d meet again in five years.
Experiences like that are what keep me going back.