Twenty Years

In May of 1990, some 250 or so young people graduated from Hannibal High School. However, our commencement took place in the wrong decade. We were children of the 1980s. We listened to Guns'n'Roses, Duran Duran, and Young MC. We wore acid-washed jeans, parachute pants, and in some unfortunate cases--leg warmers. (Not me!) Girls' hair rocked bangs big enough to shroud archeological treasures. Boys sported the timeless "mullet" (business in front, party in the back.) We witnessed the fall of the Berlin Wall, the Iran-Contra Affair, and the advent of the personal computer. Our beloved St. Louis Cardinals made three World Series appearances during the decade. Our red-headed stepchild of a sports franchise, the St. Louis football Cardinals flew west to Arizona. It took 18 years for anyone to notice that they were gone.

Last weekend, the class of '90 held its 2o year reunion back in that "white town drowsing" on the banks of the Mississippi River. Several of us toured the high school building before the official festivities and heavy drinking commenced on Saturday evening. Memories that had long since faded into oblivion were made suddenly vivid again as I showed my family the "Senior Star" that adorned the floor in the main foyer of the building. I laughed as I recalled making my brother Blake and other freshmen polish the star with toothbrushes as a rite of massage that I hope hasn't been since banned as a form of "hazing." Our tour group explored the three floors of the building with a child-like enthusiasm that none of us remembered having twenty years prior. Nostalgia isn't a strong enough word for what we felt. It was more like stepping into a time machine and being transported back to 1990 for a few glorious minutes. It was, in short, pretty damned cool.

But of course, seeing old classmates that evening was the real reason for coming home to Hannibal. I saw, embraced, and laughed with people I have known since I first came to town in 1980. That's right--I've maintained some close friendships for thirty years now. That's pretty damned cool, too. The capacity for human beings to instantly rekindle decades-old friendships after years of being out of contact with one another amazes me. I can't convey with words how much it meant to me to be reunited with so many very dear friends after so many years apart. (I would call you all out by name right now, but there are far too many of you to list here.) Which helped me come to a wonderful realization: I am truly blessed to have so many good friends. As time and distance isolated us from one another since the glory days, it would have been understandable to feel more like aquaintances rather than real friends upon seeing each other again. But not so for the class of '90. Real friends have the ability to pick up right where they left off--even after twenty years of not being in touch. Two decades apart is nothing that a few shots of Jagermeister can't fix.

I just want to thank the organizers of our reunion for their hard work in throwing this shin-dig together. Dawn Tate Weber, Shelly Taylor Bode, Lisa Sheffield Pemberton, Amanda McBride Brown, Lori Landrum Mueller, Matt Kirby, and everyone else who contributed to the weekend's success: THANK YOU!!! And, thank you to all of my very good friends who made me laugh so much that I woke up in the middle of the night with back spasms. (Hey, we are getting a little older, you know.)

Long live the members of the class of '90. But just in case our livers can't hold out much longer, let's get together again sooner rather than later.