Sunday morning was a surprise.
In fewer than eight hours after Saturday evening’s
Oscar Hammerstein II, the poetic half of Rodgers and Hammerstein, wrote in one of the songs in “The King and I,” “When you become a teacher by your pupils you’ll be taught.” The reunion was an exceptional learning experience for this old teacher.
The first lessons came Friday, the day of reunion preparation. I spent most of the day working with Sandy Jones and Denelda Whaley. We faced more than a dozen tables and bare walls.
Before we left for the night, the tables bore green table cloths, programs, an information card, a chocolate mint, several trophies, jersey and other garments tacked to the wall, and a table of diplomas, yearbooks, news clipping, and chords and tassels.
Lesson One: When we attend an event, especially one where everything is beautifully arrayed, several someones have hand-placed every item on each table.
Lesson Two: The best way to have good results is to listen to the women in charge.
When we first started, I showed up, set up the sound system, and asked Sandy and Denelda what I could do to help. They seemed a little reluctant to give their old teacher orders, so I volunteered.
“I could wipe off and polish the trophies,” I suggested.
“Good idea,” they agreed.
The next thing I knew, I had a polishing rag, two types of polished and a can of Pledge to assist with the task. While the two of them busied themselves with other tasks, I dipped into several boxes of trophies and plaques, removing each gently, and cleaning it carefully. I nearly had to reconstruct some of the trophies because the bolts holding them together were loose.
To give you an idea of the gargantuan task, we set up a dozen tables for guests — and each table had a large trophy and at least two smaller trophies.
We worked together on decorations and then moved to food preparation. By the time food preparation began, my wife Sandra and
The afternoon and evening of the reunion made all the hard work and preparation worth our efforts. We knew we might have a few drop-ins. When
“Set up another table.”
None of us really believed places set for 120 would not be enough.
“Oh, ye of little faith” echoed in my ears when we had to set up and decorate another.
At the reunion proper, we recognized the student who had the most children (Wanda Parker) — the most grandchildren (Denelda Whaley) — the oldest (Sandy Jones) — the youngest (
Matthew Cummingham provided not only his skills as expert pig cooker — but he gave us the whole hog, as well.
Bill Quidley had approached me about playing some music for the reunion.
“You are the one who really inspired my interest in music,” he had told me. “I have always wanted a chance to play music with you.”
Lesson Three: Teachers touch the lives of their students in the oddest ways sometimes.
Perhaps the most stirring moment of the evening was when we stood to sing the unofficial school hymn. During some trying periods in both national and school history, “It Is Well with my Soul” gained special prominence.
We stood together as Paula Jenkins came to the keyboard. No one needed the words. They were etched on our hearts and in our souls. We joined our voices and raised them to the One who sits on high.
“When peace like a river attendeth my way / When sorrows like sea billows roll / Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say / It is well, it is well with my soul.”
Lesson Four: It is still well with my soul.
Mike Parker is a columnist for The Free Press. You can reach him at mparker16@suddenlink.net or in care of this newspaper.