On Tuesday, May 28 I came down with a very bad cold or something worse. Minor panic. In four days Embry and I were supposed to go to the 60^th reunion of the Class of 1964 at Davidson College. How could I miss this occasion to reunite with old buddies, and miss the opportunity to stay at the home of one of our dearest friends? Plus, I had the honor of introducing one of the main speakers, also a close friend. I went to bed immediately, tested negative for covid, drank plenty of liquids, and took it day by day. On Friday morning I was starting to feel better. In discussing the situation with Embry, she made the comment that this could be my last chance to see my Davidson classmates, noting that there was no such thing as a 65^th reunion at Davidson. Decision made: gut it out.

The reunion was all I could have hoped for. Five of my best friends—all former fraternity brothers– were there with their wives, along with an equal number of people I knew pretty well, which added together accounted for over half of the Class of 1964 who were present. When I attended Davidson, our class totaled 250. Some 86 of us have died, about 34 percent. About a dozen of the deceased I knew, some well. One was one of my best friends. Many others are probably struggling with serious health issues or have stopped traveling. Some have never attended any reunions. So, the 23 of us accounted for about 15 percent of the survivors. Sounds low to me, but we were told that our participation was par for the course for a 60^th reunion.

The six couples sat together at our class dinner on Friday evening, attended on Saturday  the talk by the new college president (a 40-something male alum), who passed muster, and we all agreed was a good choice, toured the campus including the new, vast athletic complex, and went to a lakeside restaurant together for dinner. I managed to stumble through my introduction of friend and classmate, Bill Ferris, a famous folklorist, author, film maker and former head of the National Endowment of the Humanities, who made a terrific talk.

The pedometer on my iPhone showed we had walked over three miles on Saturday. Normally this would be a good thing since for the last several years I have been walking between 12 and 15 miles a week albeit at a pace which has been diminishing each year and this year with the aid of a hiking stick. But my body was telling me that this time, maybe not a good idea.

But Embry was right as she is most of the time.  The reunion experience was worth the effort and important. Hey, we are now old codgers. We members of the Davidson Class of 1964 will all be 82 before the year is out. In five more years when in theory the next reunion would happen, those of us who survive will be 87. But how many of us will still be kicking? If nothing else, class reunions underscore human mortality. That is just the way it is for us humans and for all plant and animal life on the planet Earth. The challenge for each of us living creatures is to make the best of our limited time on the stage.

While most of the reunion conversations could be construed to be small talk—“How’s the family, kids, grandkids?”—they are more than that. Something more important  happens at reunions . Reconnecting is what counts, and here is where we humans join the rest of the animal kingdom. Have you noticed how animals connect or reconnect with another of their kind? Dogs are the extreme example. Hardly ever do two dogs  pass each other without a brief smell of each other’s rear end followed by a wag of the tail. This is like saying, “OK, I remember you, you’re a friend,” or “Gee whiz, I would like to get know you better,” and then they move on. This is very important in what it means to be a dog. It is part of their DNA. It is what must give meaning to their lives. Well, we humans are not all that different. Just a kind greeting, a smile, handshake or brief hug reestablishes that connection with an old friend. You do not have to engage in a deep or lengthy discussion. Reconnecting is why reunions are so important. It is also part of our DNA.

So, despite not feeling so great, I am very glad we attended the 60^th Davidson reunion, but I paid a price, and that will be the subject of the next blog post.