Who will be at our reunion? Will I recognize my classmates and they, me? What will we talk about? Was it really necessary to bring heavy coats (the reunion was in Michigan, after all)? These were a few of the questions I asked myself during our drive to Mackinaw City from Maryland.

I’d looked forward to seeing classmates and, of course, to enjoying the amenities of the Grand Hotel on Mackinac Island. Not only were my expectations met, they were exceeded by what I learned from members of the ’56 and ’57 classes and by the beautiful setting in which we gathered.

Our view of the hotel from the ferry was my second and my husband Duane’s first. I initially saw this imposing white structure glimmering in the sunlight when our class arrived at the island aboard the S.S. South American. I had wondered then what it would be like to stay in that luxurious-looking place. Fifty years later, I found out, thanks to Sheldon, who made all the arrangements with the hotel.

Duane and I felt a bit like movie stars walking up the hotel’s red-carpeted steps to the long white porch where red geraniums cascaded out of flower boxes. We soon learned that the geranium was the hotel’s symbol. The flower appeared everywhere – on the china and carpets, in the elevators and in geranium-scented soap, hand lotion, and shampoo that filled a tiny basket in our bathroom. Someone really liked geraniums.

Our room was lovely -- two-poster beds topped with feather comforters, comfy armchairs, and lots of drawer space. We unpacked immediately, and I decided to press the clothes we’d need for the next two days. Now, my mother had taught me to use the purest water in steam irons in order not to clog them. So, I flipped the paper coaster off the tall, slim bottle of artesian well water from Norway that I’d found in the bathroom and poured some into the iron. Duane informed me later that printed on the coaster I’d discarded was the price -- $7.50 a bottle. What the heck, the clothes looked great when I finished ironing. It had to be the water.

Everything about the hotel delighted us, especially the obviously skilled and experienced staff, but reconnecting with classmates -- for Duane, meeting most of them for the first time – gave me the greatest joy. That process began at the reunion registration tables where Phil and his able committee members sold t-shirts and carriage-ride tickets and handed out the schedule, buttons and a lanyard printed with each person’s senior class photo, and a bag of goodies that included a WTHS mug, from which I’m sipping coffee as I write this, and some favorite Michigan delicacies, including Vernors ginger ale and Sanders fudge dessert topping. Busy people, our reunion committee, but we were able to chat with them briefly and converse at greater length with others who had gathered in groups near the tables.

Throughout the next day and a half, a theme emerged from several of our conversations with ’56 and ’57 grads. At first, I couldn’t give it a name. Then, Duane pointed out a ribbon version of a military medal that Glenn Briggs wore in his lapel. The Silver Star, awarded to a person serving in the U.S. Army who is cited for gallantry in combat action performed with marked distinction. That was it: gallantry and its synonyms, bravery, heroism, courage, guts. Glenn had a visual reminder that he possessed this trait; others we talked with had it also.

My best friend since the third grade, Carolyn Henry Martini, is a living definition of courage. She had a massive stroke ten years ago, is wheelchair bound, and cannot talk. And yet . . . I know of no one who is less self conscious and more able to enjoy life. Even if she had wanted to withdraw into herself, Allen, her gallant husband, would not have permitted it. Classmates were attracted to Carrie at the reunion, and she communicated with them eloquently using her hands and facial expressions. She and Allen are fun to be around, but they had to survive a violent upheaval in their lives to get to that place. They’ve done so with grace and good humor.

Other classmates have experienced terrible reversals. Several whom I talked with had recently lost their spouses and, after a period of mourning, are getting on with their lives. Roger Stevens traveled from the West Coast to attend the reunion, Eleanor Passage David will study art in Italy next year, Jimmy Faxon has remarried, and Vicky Foley Keating talked about working again on a book she had drafted some years ago. Like the Martinis, they faced tragedy and overcame its devastating effects with courage and dignity.

Phil Bowser was legally blind four years ago because of Dystonia, a condition caused by a medication he took for depression. After an extensive search for help, he found a physician who helped him learn to control the symptoms. Although they can never be entirely eliminated, Phil took on the daunting task of chairing the reunion committee, and together with committee members, produced a world-class event. That took guts. What examples these classmates are for all of us!

We reconnected with other classmates in various ways during the reunion. Jerry Kruskie has taken the first part of our class slogan to heart: “Learn as if to live forever . . . .” He told us at breakfast Tuesday morning that, this year, he purchased 100 books from Amazon.com and is avidly reading them. As kids, Barbara Tallerday Adams, class of ’57 and an attorney married to ’56 grad Darrell Adams, and I played jacks on her front porch. We now look forward to getting together sometime soon in the Washington, D.C., area, where we may again play jacks – this time, on my front porch.

Monsieur Homme de Bois, the name John Woodman acquired in Mrs. Lewis’s French class, gathered all of us whose families belonged to the Elizabeth Lake Estates Improvement Association (ELEIA) for a photo on the hotel porch. The ELEIA owned, and maybe still does, a beach on Elizabeth Lake where we used to swim, boat, and buy three-scoop ice cream cones at the association’s concession counter for $.15. Thanks, John . . . uh, merci, Monsieur de Bois, I can hardly wait to see the picture.
 
Twins Margery Oliver Vaughn and Nancy Oliver Nugent may not remember packing six of us from the neighborhood into their VW Bug for a drive down the sidewalk on Avery. Could that event be a figment of my imagination? In any case, they are as much fun now as they were back then.

A 50th high school reunion loaded with fun at one of the finest hotels in the country. We all have several people to thank for this wonderful experience: Phil and Jane Bowser, Sheldon and Sue Smith, Pat McGinty Daley, Rosemarie Fincannon, Jerry Kruskie, Karen Underwood Murphy, and Vicky Foley Keating. To our teachers, Messrs. Arsen, Cuthrell, and Kinkle, thank you for enriching our reunion with your presence.

So many aspects of our trip to Michigan enriched Duane and me, including our drive through my home state. I’d forgotten how beautiful it is, but the forests lining the highways reminded me: tall pines with branches only at the very top and other foliage whose leaves were dressed in autumn’s red, gold, and rust hues. We returned to Maryland relaxed and refreshed, and I felt uplifted by the chance to reconnect with classmates.

Sylvia Clarke Straub