Memory lane

While rearranging some of the junk I store in my basement, I came across some real treasures. Well, treasures to me anyway. There, tucked away in the bottom of an old box, I found my old yearbooks from Gamewell-Collettsville High School. Needless to say, that was the end of my “clutter busting” for the day. For a sentimental older fool like myself, looking through my annuals was a treat that simply could not be delayed. I poured myself a cup of hot coffee and settled in for the afternoon.

Faces. So many faces that brought back so many memories. Some good, some bad. There was, however, one common link that tied every single face together. We all looked like poor little sheep sporting our pre-sheering faces. Sure there were smiles, young, naive smiles as it turns out, on a lot of faces. Others wore these rock stern expressions that made one think they may have just returned from their favorite uncle's funeral.

I took the time to look at each picture and with nearly every one the question of “I wonder what ever happened to......” asked itself in my head. There was a measure of disappointment that came over me as I marveled at just how many of these people, people I used to see every day nine months out of every year, I had lost track of totally. Sure, some of them still live right here and I'm lucky enough to bump into them from time to time. But by and large, I just don't know whatever happened to a lot of my friends. I do know that one gained riches while another seems to have met with tragedy and hardship at nearly every turn. I remain convinced that life is more or less a long series of events that we have little or no control over.

For instance, the girl who ended up wealthy did so because she happened to meet a young man at a friend's wedding and later married him. The boy's family had enough money to burn a wet mule. Later, when the marriage went south, she took enough of that cash with her to incinerate at least a small burro. The other person, the one whose life has been anything but ideal, was one of the smartest, sweetest, thoughtful persons I have ever known. She also married but her husband was not much of a catch, to say the least. He ended up spending a large amount of time as a guest of the State which forced my old friend and her kids into abject poverty. If that wasn't enough, two of her children followed in their father's dubious footsteps. I can't recall another case of “bad things happening to good people” more profound than this one.

Again, I insist that fate has more to do with who we are and what we become than any of us would like to admit. Some spend years in college preparing for their futures and that is a wonderful thing. Some go to work right after school and put all their eggs in their employer's basket. Still others wander through life looking for happiness and success while all the time wondering why the definitions of those two words keep changing.

So many great memories came jumping off those yellowed pages. Homecoming festivities, Christmas dances, Sadie Hawkins Day (I was Miss Sadie and I have a picture to prove it) and the ultimate high school experience for all of us at G.C., the end of the longest losing streak probably in the United States at that time. I believe we endured losing seventy six basketball games before the curse ended in a game against Maiden High School. Robert McMillan and I cut down the nets and proceeded to join our friends in what turned out to be an all night celebration on Wilson's Creek.

It so happened that at the same time our basketball team ended that long losing streak, NASA had astronauts exploring the surface of the moon. I'll never forget the headline in the News-Topic the following morning.

“Man On Moon, G.C. in Heaven As Losing Streak Ends.” Delicious.

As for me, I've gained some weight, lost some hair, and gained some experience in life.

Experience, yes. Maturity, I don't think so.

Benjie Watts of Gamewell is a columnist for the News-Topic. If you want to leave a message for him him call the TopicLine, 757-4300, category number 4335.