Better late than never

Robert Reise said he was too cheap to pay the extra dollar to get his name engraved on his 1975 senior yearbook. As yearbook adviser way back then, I was mildly astounded at Saturday night's 30th-year reunion to hear his public confession in front of at least 100 classmates. After all, a yearbook (and one with one's name engraved in gold) is a precious item, or, at least, that's the way we on the annual staff viewed our product in May, 1975.

I was more astounded, however, to learn that Robert didn't even purchase a yearbook when he was a senior. That's why a 1975 Monticola (pinus monticolas is a brand of tree that once grew profusely in North Idaho) was circulating among the revelers who had returned to Sandpoint from all corners of the country to play together and reminisce for a weekend. Someone had found a yearbook at a yard sale, purchased it and had given it to Robert as a birthday present.

So, 30 years late, Robert was asking his classmates to sign his annual (nonengraved, of course).

I experienced great joy at seeing Robert who once sat in my second period English class---front seat, middle row---and showed me a touch of adult wisdom by professing at age 15 that there's a big difference between a house and a home; the latter, he told me, holds much more value). Robert has returned to his hometown of Sandpoint, and he looks a lot different from that long-haired, blond, bespeckled young man who showed me a bit of the rebel but a lot of intelligence during nine months I taught him.

Joy, ecstasy, delight, euphoria----any term could fit for the three hours spent with the Class of 1975 this past weekend. I can hardly detail all the great moments as this class of kids who delighted me so many ways 30 years ago provided an extra dose of evidence for my ongoing claim that the greatest reward in teaching comes with the reunions.

The hugs, the anecdotal reflections of good times in high school, the quick updates on locations, marital statuses, and careers provided me with a mental scrapbook to savor for a long, long time. Learning that Jane and Ron May had moved from their longtime North Idaho home to the mountains of Northeast Georgia two years ago made me realize I just haven't been keeping up with the locals as well as I should.

I realized when I spotted them Saturday night that I hadn't seen them for a while. Jane's explanation that they were working with a new school for troubled rich kids made sense, since she'd spent several years at the now defunct Rocky Mountain Academy near Bonners Ferry.

Seeing the two Mike Millers in the class and hearing Mike Miller of SHS band fame introduce himself after Mike Miller of Bulldog football fame brought a chuckle when the former referred to himself as "the other white meat." Julie McCormick Knox, Sue Cove Borden and I enjoyed a group hug; I noted they'd been my two student leaders as yearbook editor and drill team captain, respectively. Both look fantastic, and both are justifiably proud of their professional lives.

I was especially pleased to hear from Sue that Jim Borden now works at managing editor of the Kalamazoo Gazette--not only for the journalistic aspect but also cuz that's where my mother went to college and lived as a young woman. Jim was not at the reunion but because of the reunion, I've already sent him a note of congratulations.

There were so many other wonderful stories associated with the crowd---Ed Brown's birthday cake and song and Ed Brown and Tim Pedler's mullets. Both are proud of their ample topmops. Ken Ewing noted his missing hair in reference to government teacher Terry Iverson who didn't show up to help me as guest speaker.

So, I had to go it alone at the microphone, but I've never had so much fun standing in front of a group. After quizzing the class on some notable facts, I gave away some books, a Sandpoint Magazine, a couple of alumni Cedar Posts and------a panty girdle. The class had presented me the girdle ten years ago at their Schweitzer 20th-year reunion, just after my first book Pocket Girdles was published and when Terry Iverson did actually show up to share the speaking honors.

Jil Johnson Smith answered correctly that Marian Ruyle had devoted approximately 50 years of service as a staff member at Sandpoint High School. That meant she won the girdle. Since she wasn't truly a classmate, she deferred the prize to her husband Kevin Smith who's always been built perfectly for the great football player he was in high school. He's a little bigger but still looks pretty intimidating. Somehow, though, when he donned the girdle for the adoring audience, his image softened just a bit.

Kevin will bring the girdle to the Class of 1975's fortieth reunion in ten years. I'm hoping that by then, I'll still be functioning and rarin' to see these kids again. They put on a wonderful party, and I enjoyed one of the great honors of my life as their guest.

The best part is that Robert Reise has a yearbook full of thoughts from classmates---30 years late but all the sweeter.