The 40th reunion of the Union Avenue Elementary School in Irvington, New Jersey had been in the works for months. My husband and his former classmate, Ruth, were chatting on Facebook one day about their last reunion 10 years ago, and she said that she wished that someone would organize another. My husband, who has a knack for suggesting just the right course of action to other people, said, “Why don’t you organize it?”
Ruth decided that she would do just that, and immediately became a sort of Reunion Planner Extraordinaire. She tracked down former classmates, near and far, using Facebook and any other means possible. She asked other classmates to help her, not just to find folks but to talk them into attending. She booked a party room in Long Branch, right on the ocean, and reserved a group of rooms at a reduced group rate at a nearby hotel, for those coming from out of town. She started a blog about the reunion, so that she could keep everyone updated without contacting everyone individually, and generally generate interest and excitement.
When the time came for the reunion, more than 30 of about 50 classmates were planning to attend, a pretty extraordinary response. My husband was really looking forward to seeing and spending time with his old schoolmates, many of whom he had already been reconnecting with on Facebook.
We arrived the day before the reunion because we had tickets to a show the night before at the Paper Mill Playhouse in Millburn. The hotel was lovely and our balcony overlooked the ocean. The reuniting began when we had a really nice lunch with six of my husband’s classmates at a little restaurant on the boardwalk.
The reunion that evening was one great party. There was lots of good food and drink, and even a deejay playing music so loud that those in attendance had to shout to be heard (ah, just like the old days!). The classmates fell in together like they were in grade school again, laughing and talking and catching up. They talked about their teachers and their classes and their memories, and what they have been doing in the 40 years since grade school. One classmate brought a whole display of photos from their childhood, with copies made and ready to share.
I met my husband’s first “wife” – they were “married” in the third grade. She said that he would fall on the floor every time he saw her. He doesn’t that do that when he sees me. You know, he’s older now and getting back up off the floor is a lot harder than it would have been in the third grade. A couple of his classmates made a point of telling me what a great guy my husband was, and that I should treat him well. They were preaching to the choir – I am my husband’s greatest fan. There were lots of great stories about the old neighborhood and the school. My favorite was the reminiscing about the old bagel shop in Irvington, which I already knew had the best bagels in the world, even though I’ve never been to Irvington. They went on to lament the fact that they just can’t find bagels like that elsewhere.
It wasn’t surprising that the classmates fell in together so easily. That’s what people who were friends as children do. Ruth was right that despite the passage of time and lives lived in the interim that they were essentially the same people that they had been in grade school.
What was surprising was how comfortable I immediately felt with all of them. Maybe it was because they were just so friendly and nice. Maybe it was because I have always had an affinity for people from New Jersey. Maybe it was because Irvington, where my husband grew up, and Swissvale, PA, where I grew up, were very similar places. They may have not been talking about my teachers and my memories, but they could have been.
Because I still live in the area where I grew up, I keep in touch with many of my childhood friends. Two of my best friends today I’ve known since I was five. I keep in touch with several more, and very recently reconnected with a whole group of schoolmates via e-mail and Facebook. Jeanne,who is our Ruth,has been talking about a class reunion. I can hardly wait.
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