Is this the Birmingham you remember?
The 50 Year Party's Over!!
(The 55th Reunion will be September 22nd, 2018-Contact us to be a part of putting on Reunion) Ken Pool will be coordinating much of the information going in and out. If you did not attend our 50th Reunion or you have changed addresses within the past few years, please e-mail Ken at firstname.lastname@example.org with your current information. Invites will probably go out early in May with Reunion information and RSVP cards to send back. Ken can also be reached by phone at 248-477-3854.
Thanks to all who came to the 50th and all those who worked so hard to make it a great evening.
Stay in touch with each other, check out the pictures being posted and stay healthy!
What a great group! This includes spouses/significant others/caregivers as well as classmates.
Oh, John Weston did make it by bicycle-bike going home in a box.
Lou Randall made it from Australia.
A very happy Jose Jaime made it from Spain.
John Mouw and wife Rika came in from Alaska.
Swayze and Pool were awesome. The women were beautiful and the guys.... (well who cares about the guys anyway).
John Weston Ride by John Weston
In celebration of my my third year of retirement from ministry and the fiftieth anniversary of my graduation from high school, I rode to my reunion by bicycle: 17 days from Providence, Rhode Island where I reside, to Birmingham, Michigan where I grew up—898 miles, says my little on-board trip computer. And no, this wasn’t on some $5,000 high-tech masterpiece but a good ol’ made-in-America, hybrid-tired, steel-bodied Schwinn, vintage maybe 1981. You could still deliver papers with it, as I did with its predecessor’s predecessor.
I didn’t just get up one morning and peddle out. Eighteen months ago at least I started talking to friends about biking to my reunion to friends, just as, many years before, I had talked about putting away the cigarettes. The motives were not dissimilar: I want to live till I die, and I need the expectations of others to help me do what I should. But I don’t just mean that I want to live a long, healthy, and shame-free life, though I do. More to the point, I want to be aware of the life I live while I’m living it, and in anticipation of living it, and in my memories of having lived it. Nothing differentiates periods of one’s life like different experiences. So I began training, first coasting across the flatness that is Rhode Island and then, as my strength and wind improved, humping into the Connecticut hill country, where the uphills left me in no doubt that I had a heart. A summer of biking in the Maine mountains let me know I was ready.
Friends and family ask for my reflections. “Did I blog? Did I keep a journal?” Neither of the above. When I bike, I bike. I hum, too, the tune depending on what's up. Crossing into southeast Michigan from Ontario it was a lot of, "Doo wah doo wah doo wah ditty/Talk about the boy from Detroit city." Yes I know it's "New York city" in the song, but I wasn’t riding to New York. I also talk or sing to the sheep and cows (both fans of Ray Charles’ “You Don’t Know Me”) and horses (whom I generally dislike, and who thus get “Sweetly sings the donkey, at the break of day”). To the very few dogs who stay in hot pursuit for any length of time I say sternly and with pointed finger, "Go home!" First Nations dogs in Ontario are the most tenacious, so much so that I made sure my pepper shot was at hand, though I never used it. When I'm not biking I eat or sleep--ten hours per day of the latter at least.
I will never forget this moment: It was my second day out. I was headed west across Connecticut. The woods on both sides of the road had been logged within the past few years, so there was nothing but scrawny saplings. Suddenly, without perceptible warning, the sky opened, and within seconds I was drenched. Drenched! Not a chance of putting on my rain jacket, and not a chance of its doing any good. I stopped, lay my bike on its side, and looked for shelter. There was none. What could I do? I just stood there laughing, secure in the knowledge that whatever would happen in the next couple of weeks was utterly beyond me to control.
Besure we have your current Name, Address, E-mail, Phone Number(s) and Spouse's Name (Significant other). Request an e-mail version of the Class Directory by e-mailing Kimsbateman@Comcast.net
The Directory is too expensive to print and mail.
Help by giving us your snail mail and email
addresses and those of the classmates you know. Eve
ryone is on the move and we need your help. If you are looking for a fellow classmate, please contact us. The Reunion committee has postal addresses, e-mail addresses and phone numbers for over 300 of our classmates. Information will only be given to classmates.
Contact Sue or Jack if you move or have any changes to make to the Directory, now or in the future
Sue (Irish) Hamilton