Autumn scenes

Sunrise at Rivercliff, looking over the St. Croix River at Minnesota on the other side. Forget the computer!

Two maples on the main drag in Osceola, Wisconsin

Brother Mark and Mother Helen and I spent a wonderful weekend at Rivercliff, Helen's house on the St. Croix River

Mark and I took a walk in the woods. It rained, so we called Helen on the cell and sang, "Singing in the Rain"

Maple leaves along the forest floor sang the reds, not the blues

The St. Croix River 40 years ago was declared a "Wild River" /"Scenic River"... you can no longer build within view of the river

And the very best news from Minnesota -- my nephew David is healing FAST and BEAUTIFULLY from his auto accident

Is there life after high school?

Mary Carlson and I do an American Gothic harvest pose during a deadline break in the high school newspaper office, circa 1968

I guess there is, if my 40th high school reunion is any indication.

But there’s also death, and decay, and regeneration.

I was one of my high school’s storytellers, as editor of the high school newspaper. I don’t feel capable of telling the story now of all that’s happened to my 750 classmates. But the reunion sparked some great memories, rekindled a few friendships, and pointed up some black holes.

The former Edina High School is now an elementary school and administration building

I loved preparing by re-reading a number of the articles from the Edina High School Buzzette (yes, our team was the Hornets), paging through my yearbook, the Whigrean (yes, our colors were white and green), listening to music from 1968 (what’s the quintessential song – “Sargent Pepper,” “Mrs. Robinson,” “For What It’s Worth,” or “Get Together”?), and encouraging friends who I hadn’t seen for decades to join me at the reunion. (A few actually did.)

A number of my classmates – many still live in the Twin Cities area – organized the reunion, using a website and e-mails to round up as many as they could. About 160 people showed up, including spouses, to the Minnikahda Club, where we dined on pheasant mcnuggets (that’s what they called them!), paella, pizza, salmon, turkey sandwiches, and fancy salads. We lined up for photos – first the whole class, then those who had attended either of the two junior high schools and then those who went to the six elementary schools. I was struck by how many of us lived in Edina (known as the wealthy “cake-eating” suburb of Minneapolis) for our whole childhood.

Mary Carlson didn't come to the reunion, but the scrapbook she made in 1968 about our Buzzette adventures provided great laughs and memories

Our high school principal, Rollie Ring, was to have been present to sign copies of a book he’s written about his years at the school. But his son Roger, a classmate, said he didn’t feel well enough to join us. We were the last of his relatively tame classes – while we fought to abolish the dress code which required girls to wear skirts and allowed nobody to wear blue jeans, it wasn’t abolished until the following year. A couple years later, when my brother David was on the Buzzette staff, a student strike protested the Vietnam War.

Twin Cities musician Steve Sandberg joined Inga Quillama for some jolly moments at the 40th Edina High School reunion for the Class of 1968

A surprising number of people flew in from around the country. John – a lawyer-turned-yoga-instructor – was there from New Hampshire. Inga – an artist/nurse who was a stalwart member of our newspaper staff – came from California. Jody, my best female friend from high school, came from Berkeley with her husband Rich, who commented, “I think I’m the only person of color here!” whereupon I said, “you’re right -- and it seems I’m the only out gay person. Welcome to Edina. The only black person in our school was the African exchange student. But we did have a visit from the Harlem Globetrotters.”

And in fact, a number of us started a group called Come Open Your Eyes (COYE), the purpose of which was to educate ourselves and our community about African-American history and cultural issues. After the race riots of 1967 in Minneapolis, we went to visit black leaders in North Minneapolis, and asked, “What can we do to help?” They told us: “Go back to Edina, and educate your community.” So we did. We read and discussed Before the Mayflower and the Kerner Commission Report and other sources – and petitioned the school board to teach big missing pieces of American history (black, Native American, etc.). We canvassed and surveyed both students and parents about their attitudes (“How would you feel if your son or daughter dated a black person? If a Negro family moved in next door?”). We sponsored lectures by black cultural experts at our churches.

Fellow COYE and Tarantula Club members Anne Sivright and Jody Parsons joined me at the reunion; all of us came from out of town

Not many people were talking about this at the reunion. Much of it was meet-and-greet, catching up on where people lived and what they did. I was pleased, and somewhat surprised, that there were a large number of Obama supporters, mixed in with some McCain Republicans and many who were just fed up with the political process altogether. Eyes rolled about the economy.

A surprising number of our classmates have died – lost to cancer, accidents, AIDS, suicides, and other afflictions.

But others are doing amazing and interesting work – special education teachers, dancers, consultants helping to reinvent government, a priest working in Hispanic communities, conscious TV producers, nurses and storytellers. We danced to music from the 60’s – a lot of which surprisingly is still popular with today’s younger folk.

Some people agreed to stay in closer touch. Those teen connections are deep, but they don’t always translate into closeness after decades. Reunions can be fun; they can also remind you why you left.