Journey to a High School Reunion — Senior Year

In two weeks I will be hauling my family 1,000 miles “back home” to attend my 30th high school reunion. Today I post my final reflective blog on my school years leading up to that high school graduation — the senior year.

The senior year book was dedicated in memory of Van Page. His passing and his influence was still a constant reminder to us of the need to live Christ-centered lives now, even as we were planning for the future ahead — the futures that have unrolled before us in the 30 years since. How close to what we “planned” have those 30 years proven, and how much better, or worse, are they  for not having lined up with our plans, but with His?

The yearbook had other reflective moments. There was a section of baby pictures, to see how various seniors had changed since their early days. I look at those pictures, compare to the senior pictures, and compare the senior pictures to my pictures today, and realize the continuity within change that the years bring. Do we find ourselves, become ourselves, grow into ourselves? We were exploring those questions in the plans made during senior year, and I’m not sure I’ve plumbed but a small portion of their depth since.

Speaking of the senior pictures, my name was misspelled.  My middle name got spelled wrong. I wasn’t on that part of the layout, but being on the yearbook staff, I should have known to double-check.

My main role on the yearbook staff was advertising sales.  Among the sales was an ad from my then church honoring me as its graduate. I got to do the layout, and put it in a heavy old English font. With my experience as an editor and copy editor for both college and regular newspapers, I look back and that and wonder what I was thinking when I chose that font.

I remember Mr. Wilson following our choices for beyond high school in Bible class. As time went on we announced what college, or other endeavor, we planned to follow. There were a lot of Baptist schools — Cedarville, BBC, etc., choices. When I announced my choice of Houghton College, a Wesleyan school, several of the teachers and staff raised questions, often indirectly, about the choice. The only person who expressed no doubt at all about my decision was Mr. Wilson.

What memories to you recall from senior year?