| The Creative Expressions of... Bill Vivrett |
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| Our 50th D.H.S. Reunion:
A Reminiscence Fable _______________________________________________________________ �This old guy must have followed me in here...wonder what he wants?� I mumbled to myself. Quickly sneaking glimpses at his craggily face and receding hairline, I noticed he wasn�t quite as tall as I, but the brown eyes and quick, easy smile were the same. When he washed his hands, I noticed the tremor and felt an instant pity, which he immediately caught in my eyes. Speaking for the first time and in a vaguely familiar voice, he said, cheerfully, �No matter! I�ve already moved off watercolors toward digital photography. It�s all fine arts,� he shrugged, nonchalantly. I had forgotten that this one was artistic. What had I forgotten about the unique gifts of each of the others? So I vowed mentally to return to the banquet room to rediscover the best that was in each of them � whoever they were, starting with this quaint old codger who had followed me in. �Who are you?� I suddenly turned and demanded. But he had vanished. The Next Morning I can not explain it but everything happened just this way: The next morning a re-union breakfast was planned at the Old Arlington Hotel. Just before 8:30 in the entry hall a reception line spontaneously formed. Standing in that entry hall, I thought I saw every member of the D.H.S. Graduating Class of 1954 come in starting with those who had passed. Tom Mallery may have been first, closely followed by Fred Taylor and Don Agers, Bertha Berry, Harry Chapman, Jarry Duncan, David Haverstick, Pat Henry, Shirley Smith, Maureen Sullivan. Then Mike McAllister came sprinting up the porch steps followed by Donny Parmeley, spinning a basketball. Then, our beloved class mentor, Joe House, came in wearing a grin, just ahead of some of our other teachers; Miss Mary Rose Clyde, Coach Leonard Cox, Byron Munson and Sally McKemy. They must have heard the rousing tribute schoolmate Warren Bergman gave them the night before. Over coffee, scrambleds, Danish and tea, everyone was, again, just as they had been our last morning in May 1954. White and grey heads appeared blond, full and sandy once again. I saw no wrinkled faces, stooped figures or pain-filled expressions. I looked into clear eyes and listened to revitalized open hearts. In warm fellowship, everyone was just as I had remembered them from fifty years earlier � only more so; more charming, more interesting � renewed. On this sparkling, recent morning, we wre more together than we had ever been � this close-knit band; this green/white gathering of brothers and sisters, momentarily frozen in the perpetual summer of youth in the 50�s. And it was ours for that moment. Thanks for the memories. So here�s to you my beloved � The exceptional Class of 1954. May Our God continue to bless you and keep you. Thank you for the sharing of yourself. It has been a good ride and I know we will meet again. Come grow old along with me The best is yet to be The last for which the first was made Our times Are in HIS hand. �Robert Browning |
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| Updated 01.22.05 |
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| Page 2 |