“Goodbyes” should be short and sweet, and that’s how I hope to end Tuesday in Texas. I’ve revisited a place that will always be dear to me, and a time before everything changed. I’ve made new friendships and renewed old ones. I’ve paid homage to what Texas City suffered, and to my mother, my aunts, and other loved ones. I’ve offered this as a gift to the Class of 1964, a gift that’s been accepted with love, which reaffirms that the greatest gains come from giving.
Still, I can’t say goodbye without a few words of parting and thanks.
50th Reunion, TCHS Class of 1964, Blocker Junior High Group – October 11, 2014.
What’s the magic of the class of 1964? I’ve given a good deal of thought to the matter. All graduating classes are special in their own way, but in the case of the Class of ‘64, it’s about the timing.
50th Reunion – The Levi Fry Junior High Group.
We graduate and go into the world to build a life, find a vocation, have a family, gather material things, rack up accomplishments, watch our world expand, but the years pass and then comes a turning point. Instead of building, we’re taking apart, downsizing, moving away, selling off, ungathering. We hardly notice at first, but we have a baby and know it’s the last one. We send a son off to college and know the daughter will go soon, and eagerly. We see new families form around our children as our own dissolves, becomes smaller in the place where we live. It’s the right and joyful thing, but even so, we’re moving toward a final ending.
So long, 311 Summerhouse (from the balcony).
For us, born in the middle of the last century, it’s the season of saying goodbye. This week I closed the door for the last time at a place my husband and I have loved for 21 years, a place we’ve shared with children, parents, in-laws, friends, cousins, and even a couple of good dogs now gone to heaven. Goodbye to watching the sun rise over the ocean and the warm feeling waking, knowing our loved ones are sleeping in the other bedrooms. The beach erosion is troubling. The last major hurricane, Hurricane Hugo, hit South Carolina in 1989, so that part of the coast is overdue. Owning property out-of-state has vexations. But what it comes down to is simple. We sold it because it was time.
Girard
Here’s part of what our classmate Girard McKelroy said about closing his family home in Texas City. I couldn’t say it better, and it’s how I feel about leaving the Isle of Palms:
And now the house is gone, and the key that’s been on my keychain for decades is gone too. Passages…
I look up words because I love precise definitions, and passage is a great word. It’s defined as a way through, a change of place or condition, and the process of time passing. And so I placed the extra keys to Summerhouse 311 into the small cabinet by the door, safe there for the new owners. I hope they love it as I have.
There’s plenty of life left in our years, but we are moving through, changing places, watching time pass. The greater portion of our lives is behind us, and the losses become impossible to ignore – the loss of physical strength, the compromised vision and hearing, the energy that used to last as long as we needed it now lasts until mid-afternoon. On a good day. The list of things we can no longer do gets longer.
These losses are nothing, though, compared to the loss of those we love. Our parents, siblings, cousins and uncles. The fabulous aunts, if you’re lucky to have them, as I was, gone now. We live, and joyfully, but the shadow remains, the inevitability of future losses. Unacceptable losses, yet we must accept them, because the bell tolls for us all.
And now the good news.
Our class reunions in earlier years – at least the ones I attended – have always been exceptional in the devotion and care taken by the planners. I had fun and was glad to be there, but reunions when you’re still plagued by the insecurities of youth tend to be more about making an impression than making memories. Years passed, and that changed.
As we eased into a time of endings, losses, and goodbyes, somewhere around the 40th reunion, the leadership of the Class of ’64 started in on us, sending out announcements and warnings, determined to get our attention, to encourage us, make us understand we were welcome and wanted. So come and remember. Come and make new memories. Come home. Come back to 1964. These good people opened our hearts and led us back to Texas City like it was Brigadoon.
40th Reunion, TCHS Class of 64, 2004.
Do you know the Legend of Brigadoon? It’s the story of a mythical village that was cast under a spell and became invisible to the outside world, except for one day every 100 years. It’s like our class went its way for so many years (though short of 100 – so far), and then, when the time was right, came palpably alive again, to dance and talk, flirt a little, laugh out loud, see wonder in faces we came close to forgetting. We became as we were in 1964, yet we kept the changes, the wisdom and tolerance, like a symbiotic melding of then and now. Some might call it magic.
Oct 21, 2006, the Class of 64 throws themselves a 60th birthday party!
At a time of mounting losses, we gained something, a resurrection of the spirit of 1964. By the time of our 60th birthday party, events gained momentum, participation increased. By the 45th reunion and the 50th, we awaited each contact eagerly, knowing we were going to a place that’s waxing instead of waning. No one gives a Texas hoot about the extra pounds, the bald heads, the momentary peering at name tags, the peering that leads to “Oh my God! It’s you! I’m so happy to see you!” Who cares about anything but being together? Again. A gain.
50th Reunion, TCHS Class of 64.
Because of the wildly successful reunions, no matter what happens next, with the help of pivotal classmates and social media, we’ll go on. We’ll share grandkids and vacations, life events, pictures of our pets, and we’ll mourn together when we say goodbye to another member of our class. We don’t have to wonder “whatever happened to” because we’ll know.
Alanis Morissette said “My main objective with every album is to capture a moment in time . . .” I hope I’ve captured a few moments in this album, my personal blog. I know it’s been among the most satisfying things I’ve ever done, and it never would have existed except for the revival of the Class of 1964. Your gift to me has been your enthusiasm, and your willingness to look back with me. I loved writing it, and you’ve let me know you loved reading it.
So goodbye to Tuesday in Texas, with thanks beyond measuring to all of you.
_____________________________________________________________
And here begins the list of individuals to whom the Class of ’64 owes a debt.
The 50th Reunion Committee. John Bethscheider, Joycelynn Grigson, Doug Christy (Donna’s husband), Judy Holcomb, Donna Cochran, Sandy McWhiter, Dolores Geaslin, Raymond McNeel, Margaret Walker, Roger Bradley, Ruth Loya, Lila Ziegelmeyer, Carolyn Stork, Lewis Sholmire, Peggy Fosdick, Linda Cooper, Richard Steed, Jan Hunter, Charles Elfstrom, Alice Bucklew, Lana Huestedde, James “Inky” Incalcaterra. The guy under the balloons is PeeWee Bowen, our entertainer and “honorary” class member, who plays at many reunions and says ours is the best!
Particular thanks to Judy Holcomb, the keeper of the keys, the person I’ve peppered with questions, the person who lets us know of events and passages, and GOTCHA Queen for the past three years. (GOTCHA, for those who may not know, is Girls of Texas City High Alumni.)
Exceptional thanks, also, to Dolores Geaslin, for being Queen of the GOTCHA girls for eight years! Whew. That takes courage (smile).
Dolores and Judy, our beautiful Queens.
Although he’s not a member of our class, thanks again to Al Mitchell, Class of ’65, for generously sharing his photographs.
And now here’s a list given to me by others or lifted from the reunion pamphlets as instrumental in bringing us all together. It’s alphabetical, the women are listed by the name they had as our classmates, and there’s a star by those I’ve been told deserve special note. I apologize for any omissions or misspellings, and I hope someone will let me know of such errors so I can correct them or add them.
Joe Amato*, John Bethscheider*, Roger Bradley, Alice Bucklew, and Donna Cochran.
Linda – Beautiful!
Linda Cooper, Jon Crenshaw, Judy Davis*, Charles Elfstrom, and Peggy Fosdick.
Joycelynn Grigson*, Jan Hunter, Lana Huestedde, James Incalcaterra, and Richard Jones*.
David Latimer*, Ruth Loya*, Raymond McNeel, Sandy McWhirter*, and Lewis Sholmire*.
Carolyn – Irresistible!
Carolyn Stork*, Eddie Thompson*, Margaret Walker, and Lila Ziegelmeyer*
Author’s Note: Many of you have encouraged me to keep writing, and perhaps I will, but first, I’m going to explore the possibility of turning this blog into a keepsake hardcover book so my family will know something about the time and place where I grew up. If this works out, the book will be available, probably through Amazon, to anyone who might have an interest.
Tuesday in Texas 
A moving and inspirational conclusion to a thrilling series of essays; they illuminated Texas City and our classmates as the treasures they are. Thanks! (And I hope you are successful in publishing the book – put me on the list for First Editions!
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Thank you, Girard. That means a lot coming from someone like you, a friend who goes waaaaay back to Blocker days. xxoo
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A beautifully expressed Sayonara (hopefully premature).
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Life goes on and will for at least another decade (I’m gonna try for two, ha ha — beyond that . . .)
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Thanks again to all our classmates who worked so hard to make our 50th reunion outstanding! Thank you Becky for taking us down memory lane! What a wonderful trip it was. Thanks also to Dolores and Judy who keep us going by expanding our “bucket list” filled with fun. Happy Birthday to Charles Elfstrom who turned the Big 70, January 1, 2016, and leads most of us into our 70th decade. We will always be a class young at heart.
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And you and Gene will always have a place in my young heart. Thanks for reading. (And isn’t it just like Charlie to be born on a holiday so no one will ever forget his birthday? Smile.)
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Becky your blog has been a gift back into pasts that I will treasure always. Memories that had been buried for so long came running back with such joy of our youth. Thank you so for such a gift. Yes, I certainly want a copy!!
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Thanks, Debbie, for letting me know you’ve enjoyed revisiting the pleasure of growing up in a safe, sane, loving place. Every time I sat down to write about it, one memory led to another, and that was a joy for me, too. xxoo
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I am gonna miss your blog. I have loved every minute reading it. Thank you for the time and effort you put into it. The memories you have rekindled in my mind and heart will remain with me forever. Thank you Becky.
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And I’ve loved every minute of doing it! I can close my eyes and see that brown, skinny little girl looking at me through your beautiful mature eyes. What a special friendship that’s lasted all these long years. Love you. xxoo
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I should not have read this at work. I am now so blubbery (I am sure this is the precise word), that it is hard to focus on the computer screen. I have so enjoyed your stories Rebecca. They evoked so many feelings and memories. I am so grateful that you took the time to include all of us in your musings and life experiences. Tuesdays will be a little less looked forward to now. I love my class and will continue to look forward as we all continue to make our way in our final passages. I derive strength and hope from all of you out there. Let us all vow to keep the chain of love and support unbroken until forever happens to each one of us, as we all know it will. Life is about continuing to move forward. Let us all do do with grace, wisdom, and as much happiness as we can garner. God bless you all, and special thanks to you Rebecca.
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Oh, dear, now I’m blubbery. You expressed so much of how I feel about our class. In recent years, especially, it such a gift to have this renewal of friendships in my life. I can tell you for sure I feel I’ve gained so much more than I’ve given through this blog. xxoo
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oh my oh my i cannot believe this is the end of the trail for your dear musings!!!! you have captured the heart of our class so well and i have been deeply moved by the memories you have spurred me to bring forth. Our class is so special and yes if you were a part of it —we will hunt you down!!! Why ???? because we have a history of a special time and that time is becoming dearer and dearer to us all and when we come together we can relive that special time in our lives and get to know these special friends as the marvelous adults they have turned into —like you Becky—knew you in passing in high school—but now I truly know you, your family and your heart!!! thank you so much for this blog, for the memories and for the love you have shared with all of us!!!! expect soooooooooooon notes about our 70th birthday party!!!! love you girl
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Birthday party!!?? Did someone say BIRTHDAY PARTY?? I’m calling Delta!
Thanks for all your help, support, and kind words, Judy. I think at heart writers are shy, more comfortable writing things down, and when I was in high school, I sorely wanted to know people better, and for them to know me. I just didn’t know what to do about it. It’s very satisfying for you to say you know me. Well, I know you, now, too, and many others, and I couldn’t be more pleased about that! Love you, too! xxoo
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I have tears as I read all the replys. I regret that that I have lived so far away and missed many of the reunions. Your stories have brought so many memories back. I feel I know you from your heart felt writing. Please don’t stop sharing that talent especially with the class of ’64.
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I know how you feel, Barbara. I haven’t lived in TC since 1964, and I left Texas in ’67. My heart stayed there, though, as you can tell (I hope). I’ve been to two or three of the early reunions, but missed many. Now I have more freedom (kids grown, retired, etc), so as long as I’m able, I’m going to any and all future events. I hope to see you there. xxoo
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Becky, I keep reading this over and over…I don’t want it to end. I hope you know what a joyful gift you have given us. Be prepared to be mobbed like a movie star, whenever you can join us again!
We love you!
Dolores
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When ever and where ever, I’ll be there if I can! Judy mentioned a 70th birthday party. That would be great! I must say, though, your “movie star” remark scared me! I wasn’t born to be a queen (like you were – smile). I don’t know if I could handle that, but on the other hand, if a little extra attention gave me the chance to say hello and speak to more people, I’d love that part! This experience has made me very happy. xxoo
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Thank you Becky. I’ve enjoyed it immensely. So many parallel paths we have all traveled. It would be fun if you could get others to talk about their TC memories. Best Always..
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Maybe at the next reunion we could at least have a roll call – all too often I’ve found out I missed talking to someone because time is short and I didn’t realize they were even there. We all look a teensy weensy bit different now – I have to stop being embarrassed to “peer at name tags.” The important thing is, I don’t want to miss anyone. Thanks for reading, John. xxoo
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honest…I meant “sit”…
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Back in 1964 I wasted about half a second wondering if you did (sh)it on purpose, but as I watched your face turn a truly remarkable color, I thought: “No way could that be voluntary.” I must say, I owe you quite a debt. As the Brits say, “I’ve dined out on that story for years.” When I add in the lisp (Thred, would you be the king), people are in stitches before I even get to the best part! xxoo
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I, too, would like to go on your list for First Additions. I have spoken so glowingly of your stories to my youngest daughter, a media specialist (they used to call them librarians) in the Pasadena school district, she has asked me for a copy. I get teary-eyed when I think about the memories your stories have invoked. After DeWayne died, I kind of lived in a haze my last two years of high school, and there are so many things I don’t recollect. Even though all of your memories weren’t the same as mine, they still brought me closer to home. I thank you for them. Love you. Gloria
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I’m working on turning T in T into a book. I’ll have to publish it myself, and in the end I probably won’t break even, but I’d like to do it anyway. These days you can’t just be a writer. You have to be a publisher, an editor, a photographer, and even a computer guru. You know, a conversation you and I had a long, long time ago partly inspired me to write about memory. It was after Germany, and we were talking about something that happened on Winkler Drive. As we talked, I realized we remembered whatever it was totally differently! That whatever it was, different things stayed with us, different things made an impression. A sad thing, BTW. Do you remember Colleen Kelly Warren, a friend in Germany? She and Mary Garland were sidekicks. Anyway, Colleen passed away a week ago from cancer. She was special. Thanks for your comments, dear heart.
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