Earlier this week I received word from a high school friend that one of our classmates has died. I think he may be the first of us to go, but I’m not sure. I know that the girl I sat next to in home room died, but I don’t think she actually graduated with us.
I didn’t know Johnny that well. He went to another school in the county and came to our school his senior year. He was more than handsome. He was beautiful! He had black hair and long,thick black eyelashes that were the envy of all us girls. It was a pleasure just to look at him.
When I read the news, my first thought was, “What a shame he died so young!” Then I realized that he was my age. My own mortality had just tapped me on the shoulder and spit in my eye when I read of Johnny’s death. Sixty-seven is not too young to die.
I haven’t seen him since high school, so, to me, Johnny is still that beautiful young man I knew in 1963.
1 comment:
I can't believe that your class went this long without a member's death. Our first one, during the summer following our 1968 graduation, involved a truck accident and a summer job.
Of course, this was also the Viet Nam era, unfortunately.
Our tenth class reunion program already had a list of deceased classmates and it gets longer every year.
And, yes, every time I see the name of a classmate who died I think, "wow, and they were so young!"
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