Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Coming back to Earth (Installment #4)

Thoughts on my 
High School Reunion


After 30 years I realized that these are my people,
Diverse and transformed but still very mindful.

Cutting through the fray, bringing the truth into view,
Walking through the years was humbling and new.

With knowledge and understanding, classmates poured out their hearts;
Where do you live, howzur family, where do I start!?

So many present, too many missing;
We did a whole lot of hugging and even some kissing.

Happy smiles, warm hugs, I can’t believe we’re pushing 50.
Girls from Dallas were fabulous, and the boys looked nifty.


You’d think after three days, we’d run out of bull,
But knowing that time was short was a subconscious pull.

Which night was most special, whom did you meet?
I came home with a throbbing head and raspy voice, but I was tapping my feet!

After such long separation, what did you see?
Did you hear what I said, did you listen to me?

History shared, good or bad, up or down;
Some brought spouses, some came from faraway towns.

Will you meet me in Dallas, not in just 5 years, but ten?
For a few this was it; we’ll never see you again.

Loud music, cheap beer, laughter and yelling,
If there’s a better plan for ’23, the officers aren't telling.


I’m glad there were no good-byes, we went quietly into the night, the DCC shut us down and closed all the doors very tight.

There wasn’t enough time to tell every story,
Try as we did, we couldn’t rehash all the glory,
Some of us were bigger, some of us were grayer,
Most had some bruises when you peeled back a layer.


Joy, freedom, relief, forgiveness, grace, humility, concern.
I met this with every friend to whom I would turn.

New faces, old lines, new stories, old truths,
Where did the time go? Squandered on youth?

I saw football stars cry, there were heathens squeaky clean;
Some of the nicest ladies I met, as coeds were quite mean.

Schadenfreude gave way to grace,
Humility overcame pride,
This reunion was lived from the inside.


All of us are damaged, everyone by now is broken;
These deep truths resonated in every word that was spoken.

As a large tree spreads its branches, so has the Class of 1983: crooked bends and gnarled bark showing the perennial effects of its growth.

However, the comfort & grace provided by its majestic canopy gives all who see it confidence and peaceful shade from the brutal environment.


I am so thankful for the blessing of returning to Dallas, and coming together again for my 30th reunion. It surpassed all my expectations, which started pretty big, as you read on August 5th  (previous post).

We have a wonderful group of friends and a solid base to which we will return, Lord willing, in 10 years. Thank you for an enduring set of memories, especially Saturday night when Jason spoke. I’m sure often I will pause to remember, until the images fade. 

By then, in another decade; more poets, sages, elders, and saints will arrive with more stories to tell; and I fully expect the relief and gratitude then, will exceed even this memorable event. Words really cannot express that loving spark between two old friends, who look deeply into each other’s eyes and relish the moment of remembrance and celebration of the present. 

We've come to an understanding that aging is a journey with many unplanned stops; and that we are so appreciative to have made it this far. Walls came down and the Spirit entered over the rubble. Loving camaraderie transcended gender, age, body shape, socio-economic status, geography, even history; as time’s leveling effect set us on a course of winsome reunion. 

Soaring on the updraft of good times, I glided home on the long migration south to Houston, landing firmly in reality on Monday morning. No voice, bronchitis, too much unfinished work. 

But we saw a glimpse of heaven and I will never forget it.


©Mark H. Pillsbury

Saturday, September 14, 2013

After Night #2 in Dallas... 30th High School Reunion

Thoughts on Night Two of the Class of 1983 High School Reunion

Blogging “real-time” from my 30th reunion has been fun, and I want to thank you, faithful reader for telling me you enjoyed my writing. Greater thanks to all the volunteers directed by our class officers who pulled off this amazing weekend.

After two nights on the story, there is still a little left to tell. With a wooden head and raspy voice, I sit back down to report the Class of 1983 is alive and well:

Again, love dominated the emotional mood last night at the Stoneleigh P. Although the crowd was slightly different, the vibe stayed the same: no one with whom I talked bounced around the truth with B.S. The sensible “three-day” process played out brilliantly; allowing all of us the opportunity to speak with many different classmates, and enough time to dig a little deeper.

The emotional notes of the evening were played with such care, reminding me of a virtuoso hunched over a piano: Coldplay’s Chris Martin, Peanuts’ Linus, or even Mozart. Delicately touching the keys, softly playing the notes of each other’s stories; it was a beautiful performance.

Scattershooting, while wondering where are Fronterhouse, Krebs, or Holmes, or Hamlin?
  • I heard about trumpets, toddlers, teens, and theology
  • I watched some very bored spouses, trudging valiantly through the hours 
  • Did you know about a couple of romances that just got started between classmates?
  • Talked about love and loss, and those who won’t be present tomorrow; like Patrick or Alex
  • Texas towns are as different as siblings, both very similar and yet independent; classmates came in from all over the state!
  • I learned about a couple of grandkids, and one lawyer’s ginormous billing rate!

I learned how expensive parking can be, and I even snapped a few pictures
One friend told me he probably wouldn’t have attended if not for reading my blog post from August 5th; and that made my trip worth the trouble. I got to thank him for what he showed me thirty years ago—and again last night: courage.
I suppose all the laughing and the loving will culminate tonight; and eventually I will pick my pen back up to try to write as I verbally wrap my mind around the experience; however, I can say it will be hard to capture the electricity, the inspiration, the joy this reunion has provided to the many who gathered in Dallas after 30 years.
I’m honored that you took the time to read so far, thank you for being kind enough to say so. The grace shown to me over the past couple of days has been heart-warming and encouraging. I hope to see you one more time tonight at the club; but if not, safe travels, may the long Texas highway rise ahead to meet you, and my hope is that you will stay in touch:  markpills@ymail.com

©Mark H. Pillsbury

Friday, September 13, 2013

The Four L's of the High School Reunion


Opening Night of the Class of 1983
I never thought I would be blogging “real-time” from my 30th reunion, but after attending the first night's festivities, I was overwhelmed with positive feedback, so I will try again.
[Note:  we'll see how many people really follow-up with a view at this installment; now that we’ve all come here to Dallas to celebrate our 30th reunion. The build-up is over, the event has kicked-off!
The comments on Facebook© this morning speak to a lot of this; it was funny how so many drank a little too much, and thought the music was too loud?!]
I was blown away. For a group pushing 50, everyone looked very good. Too busy living life to focus on this reunion as much as the two previous reunions; I perceived the Thursday night group was as pure as I can expect for a group of Highland Parkers. Maybe it was the lack of spouses at the event last night, but it got real in a hurry.
My impression was that raising your kids in Highland Park was not as big a priority as the last time we met. In 2003, it seemed a badge of honor to afford, live, and send your kids to Highland Park schools.
This time, it seemed that people were just glad to be in attendance; notwithstanding the neighborhood in which they lived. Much of the conversation was going back to the points together in school, just as much as what we do in the present day.
The fact that so many people thanked me personally for writing what I thought about the approach to this 30th reunion shows me that the space between our lives is smaller than we think. This is a breakthrough weekend.
On the drive into Dallas, the satellite radio “oldies channel” prepared me for the thoughts I had tonight. The period music took me back to the places where it played as a soundtrack to high school. The time in the presence of my old friends did the same thing.
Quick thoughts about “expectations” for those who are coming in today:
Just hug your friends, everyone deserves a good hug. It’s been too long

Listen for those dramatic turning points in their story where life turned on a dime
Tell your story in a few words, respecting the difficulties that brought your friends to this place; they are just as important facts as yours
Parents love to talk about their kids! Listen to the “child stories” and re-live the joy of mothers and fathers; so many have watched their babies grow up and leave the nest
Acknowledge the pain, and the joy that your friend endured or celebrated in order to arrive at this place tonight
I want to specifically remember something about another person and our time together in school, thirty years ago; especially so I can thank them for what they did to make it so fun back in the 70s and 80s. The world was such a different place and the culture dealt with fewer deep issues, in my opinion.
Listen. Laugh. Love. Live. Those four L’s are the touch-points of this reunion.
See you tonight at the P.

©Mark H. Pillsbury