Auld Lang Syne

For me the time leading up to the New Year has long been a time of remembrance and reflection.

Perhaps it's a Scottish thing: when I took up the Great Highland Bagpipes almost 30 years ago I was becoming immersed in things Scottish (my surname is Scottish) and I was often around those who speak in "braid Scots" (broad Scots -- whether it's a dialect of English or a sister tongue is an old debate) and later, as a result of our Gaelic classes, Scottish Gaelic.

But there is a Scottish tradition of "remembering" at the New Year. One Hogmanay (Scottish New Year) tradition is to gather at midnight, hold hands in a circle and sing "Auld Lang Syne" ("Old Long Since," or "Long, Long Ago"). For Seattle's Gaelic community there is a similar tradition: closing events (including Hogmanay celebrations) with the equally longing "Chi Mi Na Morbheanna", literally "I [Will] See the Great Mountains [of home]."

Both songs speak of separation by insurmountable distances, the latter from the Highland Clearances that sent so many Scots to North America -- it is recorded that some Scots emigrants wept when they sighted Nova Scotia because it looked so much like home.

Interestingly, although Robert Burns' Auld Lang Syne is sometimes touted as merely a song of a long-separated friend, it isn't. In Scots the word "jo" means "sweetheart." In the Scots chorus of Auld Lang Syne:

For auld lang syne, my jo,
for auld lang syne,
we’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.

Further evidence is in an earlier song, pre-Burns:

Should Old Acquaintance be forgot,
and never thought upon;
The flames of Love extinguished,
and fully past and gone:
Is thy sweet Heart now grown so cold,
that loving Breast of thine;
That thou canst never once reflect
on Old long syne.

CHORUS:
On Old long syne my Jo,
in Old long syne,
That thou canst never once reflect,
on Old long syne.

But I digress.

For me the annual remembrance had started in Advent with the carol "O Little Town of Bethlehem", in particular the lines "Above thy deep and dreamless sleep / The silent stars go by." Two conflicting images always presented: one a middle-eastern scene, the other an image of Midland, winter '67-'68. The only "deep and dreamless sleep" there was in my own mind -- once I lost all contacts with Midland friends in the early 70s I had only memories to draw on.

New Year/Hogmanay still brings me back: where are my old friends, what have they achieved? Questions with no answers. And "Chi Mi Na Morbheanna" brings a fine contradiction: the home I remember has no mountains, no hills. But the song is really about coming home to the people who live(d) there.

This summer I saw that the Midland I held in memory is unsurprisingly long since gone. Now I have new memories of it today. Though many of my classmates and other folks there now say, "It's a great place to be -- from" I missed it('s people) for a long, long time.

But as a result of this visit the triggers of such remembrances are gone, and maybe that's a good thing. I know I can never go home again, but I'll forever remember fondly the Midland where I once lived, auld lang syne.

Merry Christmas to you

who continue to check on this blog.

Recalling many merry Christmases there... of a time a long time ago.

Blog end -- for now

There having been no visitors to the blog for many days now, it is perhaps safe to say it's ended.

At least for now, though I will likely return to the blog when we begin planning our "Tour of Michigan," including of course another visit to Midland. Currently it looks like that won't occur in 2011 but could in 2012. I'd love to visit in late September, but that may depend on work -- my fall travel season starts about that time though if we have completed the development of the Smart Grid by then (a distant possibility) I won't be traveling as much as I am now.

Cheers.

Happy Thanksgiving

It's snowing here. Ice and steep hills are not a good mix -- a problem Midland doesn't have.

Midland Trail

It doesn't take long after I think I've made the very last posting on this blog that something else comes up. In this instance I headed out last week for a trip with stops in West Virginia and Virginia followed by a week in Atlanta. While driving from West Virginia to speak at a conference in Virginia, I started seeing freeway signs touting "Midland Trail."

I had seen "Midland Trail" on maps before I left but had pressing issues to put to bed before departure so I didn't investigate. But seeing the name on freeway signs made me take note -- and hassle with pulling out the "big" camera to snap a picture in passing, just for my records if nothing else.

Today, just returned from that trip (home at 1:30 AM PST), I got time to look up "Midland Trail" online. Of course, Midland is a popular name for towns, cities and regions -- there's even a Midland less than an hour's drive south of here. though it might just be a "district" of Tacoma.

But adding "Trail" promised something else, something historical. And so it is! Not an old pioneer trail as I had thought, such as the Oregon Trail (which ends three hours south of here), but a national auto trail, possibly the first transcontinental auto trail, ca 1913, from D.C. to L.A.

Back East Route 60 follows much of the old Midland Trail, it turns out. In a way reminiscent of Route 66, part of which I walked in Albuquerque during a conference this summer, and another part in Kingman AZ which I encountered in a break from a conference in Las Vegas a few weeks ago, and which I will see again this January.

None of which has anything to do with Midland MI other than the name Midland. Though if I'd not been a Midlander I would probably never have encountered this little bit of history.

Apples and Autumn

On some flight from Seattle earlier this year, my seatmate was in the apple distribution business. I had to ask him which were better in his opinion: Michigan or Washington apples? He put it slightly to Washington. I remain unconvinced, though it's been decades since I've had a Michigan apple. (Both are better than the New Zealand apples we get here -- a bit mealy-tasting.)

In any event, for me autumn will always be associated with apples, in so many ways. Trips out to someplace forgotten (the name "Apple Mountain" sticks in my mind, can anyone confirm?) where one could get fresh apple cider and other apple products, I think, while watching the press. The tradition sort of continues here with a "farm" in Woodinville that also sells fresh cider this time of year. Kathy says they use a special variety of apple developed right here -- whatever the case, it's good.

And as it gets colder and nearer winter another memory comes forward: the heady smell of bushel baskets of apples on the Hensons' enclosed back porch. Sadly their house on Ashman Street (at Nelson) is gone now, along with all the apple trees we kids played in, from the huge old tree out front to the small young trees, some barely large enough to climb in. I really wonder about that property -- it doesn't seem to be a park though it's kept. Perhaps the current owners of the Caldwell and Putnam houses (to the north) own it now?

And one more memory I can barely place: a church youth group party in 1967 where, among other things, we bobbed for apples. I don't remember where it was, other than in somebody's basement, but I'm guessing the Fayerweathers'. I seem to remember a hayride along with it, but that's stretching things.

Not that unusual?

Was chatting with my seatmate on the flight to Atlanta Sunday. Friendly fellow (it's always easier with an empty seat between), born and raised in North Dakota but now living in Seattle. The interesting thing was that he said he frequently runs into folks from North Dakota -- if I remember correctly, he said there are little things that identify them.

I didn't mention Midland but just filed that little tidbit away. Perhaps if one has one's antennae up one would have similar experiences; perhaps mine is not so unusual.

Two Midlands

Flying home from a four-day conference in Washington D.C., I expected to fly over Midland because my flight connection was in New York, and most flights to or from Newark pass close to Midland. Last night, though, we took a bit more northerly route.

Now I've been on Delta enough lately that their movie and CD selection is no longer interesting, so I just put up "Moving Map" and do something else, like reading a book.

But as we approached Midland I saw something "interesting" (well, not really) -- another Midland, on the other side of Lake Huron. There are many "Midlands" in the U.S., but I'd never heard of this one in Canada. (Sorry for the poor picture quality; it was taken with a cellphone camera that I was struggling to keep still despite turbulence.)

A Midland classmate connection?

I'm in Washington D.C. attending a conference, with a sizable contingent of corporate co-workers most of whom I've never met; I work for a wide-flung corporation.

Chatting with one (she's actually contract PR to our corporation, but...) I met yesterday, I learned that her mother grew up in Midland and she thinks her mother possibly went to Midland High, though it's possible she went to Dow High with something about her being in the first class to attend Dow. That would put her mother one year behind me.

Her mother's maiden name sounds familiar, but I've not turned up anything online. Maybe in the short time I'm home before the next flight out.

Not much more to say

I think this will bring the blog to a close, at least for now. I know somebody or two still visits, because the hit counter continues to rise -- ever so slowly. But I have no new material to add, at least until we start planning a return visit.

That's not likely to happen next year, as it works out. Next year I'm looking at a trip to London for a speaking engagement -- my European manufacturers association wants to have their only native English-speaker (and vice-president) right up front, to the Ruhr valley (location not scenic, according to Kathy) for a technical event and then Rome in September.

The big question was on which trip Kathy would accompany me, London or Rome, but she wants so much for me to see Rome that's where we're gong to take a vacation. It doesn't hurt that she speaks Italian -- and when one of the Italians announced the Rome meeting, he wanted to be certain that I would bring Kathy. (She speaks every one of their languages save only Finnish and SuisseDeutsch or Swiss-German.)

So it looks like we'll be off to Rome and Italy and that will eat up what little time I can spare for a vacation, leaving the rest for the Christmas holidays. (More vacation than I could take this year, though I expect the intensity of the Smart Grid design effort to be backing off by next summer -- after all, the White House wants us to deliver "it" by the end of this year, but that's just not possible. Hopefully we'll roll out "Phase 1," the base elements, next year.)

Midland? Maybe in 2012. I do want to go back, with more time available, and to show Kathy more of Michigan. I got a little reminder today when, going through receipts to file the last two of seven expense reports, I found one from Midland. Though I don't remember eating at that place.

[flashback] We did have breakfast at Big Boy's, probably near the site of an old hotel restaurant I remember from the 60s (both hotel and restaurant gone now) and that's where Kathy remarked on the innate friendliness of Midlanders/Michiganders. [end flashback]

So, though I still think fondly on the old town from time to time, and definitely every time I fly from Seattle to Newark and pass overhead, I really don't have much more to say on this blog for the foreseeable future.

It is said you can't go home again, and I know now just how very true that is. But I had a good visit, 42+ years after I left, and it's my hope to visit again sometime soon, well before the MHS 50th reunion!

So, dear reader(s), I bid you good-bye, adieu, adios, auf weiderbyebye (;^), slàn leibh, ha det and more. At least for now.

I'll be back, sometime. In both senses.

Six degrees of separation?

Wikipedia has an entry for Six degrees of separation. I am beginning to believe that maybe there is something in this.

Earlier this week I flew into Las Vegas to speak at a conference, and the evening before the conference opened I attended a reception for the sponsoring organization's members. Not many were there, maybe 30 or so -- probably because of the thunderstorms that delayed my flight as well as others.

But in short order, chatting with one of the guys I hadn't known before, I soon learned he's from (and still is near) Lansing -- and that he had an uncle who ran a shop in Midland sometime around the time I lived there! What kind of shop, I've forgotten. Not shoe repair, but something with tools...? The conversation went off in other directions and I was pretty tired by then, so I guess I'll never know.

Misty morning

I remember fog in Midland as generally being heavy and very wet. And more vaguely in autumn, though I could be wrong on all counts.

A light morning fog, rather like this mist I encountered when I got up this morning, is usually one of the first signs that autumn is coming and it usally starts around mid-August. But this year it's six weeks late, with the leaves turning color and falling, and now the cedar fronds are turning orange -- fall is well underway.

But it was nice to see the misty morning this morning.

Spoiled

I never really realized how spoiled I've become by Seattle's mild climate. Sure, whenever Kathy said, "Let's move to Midland" (haven't heard that in a while) I'd come back with "hot, humid summers and February." She's really no stranger to both, from what I have seen of her family's corner of Connecticut, and especially long winters.

But I was shocked when I left the office yesterday -- it wasn't that hot (even for Seattleites, in the high 70s) but the relative humidity was very near 100%. I started perspiring instantly. And when I got home, well, the windows were open so the house was unplasantly humid. This is maybe the second or at most third time I remember encountering such conditions in my 27 years here. And it just seems wrong to want to have A/C in autumn, when we get through the summer without it.

I know Midland summers are not completely like this, but it's what remains in memory.

Midland by bike

When we return (it seems it is no longer "if", according to Kathy) we will have to take at least a couple of days and rent bicycles, to see the place the way I saw it then. Although I was the passenger on our visit, so I could navigate by map and memory, it was just too different. (I didn't learn to drive until my family moved to California.)

We both noticed during our visit the numbers of folks getting about by bike. Of course it was a weekend and they were mostly leisure rides, but Midland is very well set up for cycling. I say this from the perspective of living in a city that for whatever reason calls itself the cycling capital of the Pacific Northwest (the drivers here are fairly cycle-friendly, even for the region) and as a cycle-commuter for many years -- until we bought a house where it became too dangerous (narrow, winding, high-speed roads).

I miss the cycle-commute; over time I perfected my commuter bike to the point where experienced cyclists look at it in puzzlement: French frame, mountain bike gearing so low I could sit and spin up hills that have the young bucks standing on their pedals, 30-year-old randonnee bars (fit me perfctly but long off the market -- I have a spare set), bar-end friction shifters, mountain bike pedals, rack, fenders and mudflaps...

Here I rode year-round except for snow or marginal health, or when the river flooded the trail in spring. I guess in Midland I'd not be riding for about 3 months, though as a MDN paperboy I rode most every day.

Funny to think my shortest daily commute here (7 miles) was rather a bit longer than my furthest ventures in Midland: whether it was the long haul to visit Gloria, Judy, or Sidney. The last such ride is memorable: I rode out midwinter in the slippery snow&ice with skates in the rack, struggling but managing to stay upright... until I was in front of her house, right in front of her, where to my embarrassment I slipped and fell, getting soaked.

Autumn

Ever since my visit to Midland --so familar, so strange-- it's been on my mind much more than it has for decades. But I think when it is on my mind, it's never more so than in autumn.

I don't remember autumn as a quiet time in Midland; after all the school year was getting underway with lots of activities, new friends, the football season and so much more. But now it has become a sort of quiet time, for reflection, and not just memories of a loss to our family a long time ago in this season -- Kathy and I are both working to recover "autumn" from that memory.

One of the (small) things I don't like about my job is that my peak travel season is in autumn. I don't get to flow with the season; it appears, advances, and departs in fits and jumps. When I left on my last trip we had just the precursor of autumn, a bit early. When I returned again Friday it was clear we're well into autumn and it is evidently going to be one of the most muted years I can recall. I'll know more this coming Thursday when I see what's transpired my week away. Two or more trips after that and the leaves should be down -- it will be over.

All that was highlighted as I took the train in Switzerland from Zurich airport to Lucerne today (first time ever in Switzerland) and I saw the beginnings of Swiss autumn. But it looks to be Midland-style, probably dominated by dramatic tree colors, and unlike Seattle where the trees are sometimes secondary to the shrubbery with muted colors.

I wonder what's happening in Midland now. The first maples should be starting to turn at the top, no?

Passing through

Back in Seattle it's a dark, wet, gloomy autumn day. But here in DTW airport it's cheery, bright and sunny -- and comfortably warm if the pilot was right. If it weren't for security I'd be tempted to go outside and enjoy it.

Our approach was unusual, with a significant diversion to the north that almost took us over Midland and probably put us in viewing range, though I was in an aisle seat.

But in any event I'm just passing through: in a couple of hours I'm off to St. Louis MO for a few days. I thought about picking up some more maple syrup at the Michigania store, but think I'll do it sometime when I'm passing through on the way home.

Two days is not enough!

Bill and I were talking the other night about our recent visit to Midland and how it was very different for us both.

He reconnected with some places and people and I saw him come to life. I really enjoyed meeting people and tagging along to the various old haunts including his home and the old neighborhood, walking down the sidewalk with him as my guide. What really got me was just how much more there was to see there than two days could allow. I left wanting more. I definitely want to come back!

No doubt about it, I did not see the hottest (muggiest and buggiest) part of the summer, nor did I endure February, but what I saw, I liked. Mind you, I have lived in some exotic (and not so exotic) places around the world, but nothing prepared me for the warm reception I received there in Midland. I felt like I had come home, and it wasn't even my home. I must have sounded as much like a broken record as he did when seeing my home town in New England. "This looks so much like Michigan!" "This looks so much like Connecticut!" Our homes, though many hundreds of miles apart, are part of what drew us together. I am glad I met this Michigan boy and married him. 31 years later - no regrets.

Midland in work-related news

I was a little surprised to see Midland pop up when I was performing some work-related searches. Among the various aspects of my job in the commercial-building HVAC controls industry, I am a LEED Accredited Professional (my focus is on energy-efficiency) and from time to time I take a look at what's going on in the world of LEED and "green" buildings.

It started with Green and Local, the construction of a LEED building in Midland. That had reference to the Chippewa Nature Center preschool, which is pursuing a LEED Platinum rating. To think we almost went there, but didn't. Oh well. I got my first tour of a LEED Platinum building just this week.

MidMichigan Medical Center goes green for expansion and renovation -- I vaguely recall seeing signs about that when we drove by the center during our visit. The article notes that they "draw on LEED", not that they're going for a LEED rating. (But boy, is that hospital ever different from the one where they removed my tonsils a long time ago!)

And as a side-note on one website there was this:
Midland ranked top 10 in nation by Business Facilities Magazine (poor title, it should have said 3rd).

Michiganders everywhere!

At dinner Monday night during my committee meetings in Atlanta, some question prompted me to ask the fellow across the table where he was from. "Jackson, Michigan" was the answer. At first I thought "We've discussed this before" but then I remembered that one of our meeting hosts is also from Jackson, with an aunt in Midland she visited often in her childhood days. (Learned this at dinner with her in Albuquerque a couple of months ago, when the then-upcoming visit was prominent in my mind.)

And on the flight home from Atlanta Tuesday evening, the seats in front of me were pretty vocal (i.e. loud) and I learned one of them is also a Michigander.

At this rate, and based on my experiences thus far traveling, I would not be overly surprised to encounter a Michigander when I'm in Switzerland 2-1/2 weeks hence (business, another committee, not staying to tour).

"She's not seen all the pretty parts!"

On my flight from Seattle to Atlanta today I wound up seated next to a Michigander from Traverse City, returning from a visit with her daughter who recently moved to Seattle (and not yet experienced our gloomy dark winters).

I told her about our visit, and how Kathy just loved Michiganders and what little she's seen of Michigan, and my seatmate said, "She's not seen all the pretty parts!" Yup.

But it was surprising to hear about the climate differences between Traverse City and the lower state. Frost possible by Labor Day? Not good. Though I remember as a boy hearing Pellston labeled on some TV program or another as "the icebox of Michigan" (the lower peninsula)?

But we must make that tour.

Seasons

Kathy's continuing (not "continual", just to be clear) talk of the Tour of Michigan got me thinking: When would be the best time to go? While it would be nice to have a White Christmas (without all the major troubles we have here on the rare occasions when it snows), that's just the wrong time.

April? For all I remember April fondly (snow melting, the smell of freshly-exposed ground, kite-flying weather), I think it needs February to set the stage.

May or early June? Mosquitoes. Though after 42 years I have forgotten just when mosquito season begins. Where my house is situated we do not have a mosquito problem -- if I see a dozen anywhere other than the lower woods it's a bad year.

July and August? Too likely to be muggy.

Which sort of takes us to early autumn, late September or early October. Fall colors. Rain but hey, we know about all about rain in the Seattle area -- though I have yet to compile the definitive list of our words for precipitation ("rain" is the point where locals start walking briskly between their cars and buildings). Apples (Washington apples are a bit mealy, IMHO) and apple cider. I forget where we used to go every fall to get fresh cider, watch the cider press, hayrides?

It's kind of interesting to contrast the change of seasons in Midland with Redmond. To me, anyway, so it's here for you to read. I could include California in this, but to be frank I don't really much remember what passed for seasons in California. (Apologies to Midlanders living there now and hopefully liking it.)

Here, starting in Midsommar (ya sure ve haff us many Skandihoovians, ya betcha), Midland varies from pleasant to hot & humid. Redmond is entering the dry season but we think it rather hot when it gets to the 80s. (Only 5 to 10% of the houses here have A/C.)

August into September I don't remember much from Midland, other than it starts cooling. In Redmond we get: early morning fogs (oddly absent this year), spiders and their webs start appearing everywhere outside (the spiders will grow quite large into October), and trees start dropping their leaves. Usually the last is caused by drought and heat, but it's late this year -- only the vine maples are dropping now.

October into November: I only remember chill, fog, rain and a brief bout of bright fall colors. Rain here too, but the colors are usually quite muted.

November into December: the grey time; colder, maybe some snow, overcast. Not too different here except it's a little warmer -- but this is the windy season and we get some frightful windstorms. In 2006 a windstorm blew through and cut power all over the region. We were lucky -- only 8 days without power. At least we have woodstoves upstairs and down. This photo was taken only a hundred or two meters down the road the morning after. A mile of this to reach the main road.

Late December through February: snow, more snow, winter sports, and Why Won't This White Stuff Just Go Away^[TM]? Redmond: dark, dark, dark and gloom (overcast skies and under big trees nighttime is black, plus we might not see the sun for months). People often move away from Seattle because they cannot face another grim winter here; outdoor "Christmas" lights often remain on well after Epiphany.

March and April: winter ends, spring begins. Redmond: same -- we might get a dusting of snow but the days are growing much longer. And the rain is not quite as cold.

May and June: spring into summer; I have already mentioned mosquitoes. Redmond: the rain slacks off and our glorious summer begins.

Full stop?

Barring additional material this blog is likely done.

Not that more material won't arise. For example I just sent some of my photos of Midland just three weeks ago to an Iranian in one of Iran's more beautiful cities. He is studying a field closely related to mine, and we met a year or two ago through his technical query to a work-related email list.

I sent my photos in response to photos he sent me from a recent group outing to a waterfall and of nearby Persepolis. His perceptions of Midland were interesting to read and very complimentary, though I think they reflect in part little enough for him to see, not to mention disparities in our cultures.

I'm sure he'd be shocked to learn of fallout shelters, for example, and that during the Cuban missile crisis I was informed that we'd be a high priority target. (During the same time Kathy was agonizing over whether there would still be an America to return to.)

But that's little enough for a blog. Check back from time to time, if you will, but I give no promises for new material. (Though you're always invited to leave comments, which should reach me!)

Paris without Parisians!

Okay, this post has absolutely nothing to do with Midland except for the sentence you are reading right now, and maybe one I toss in later: we did this trip on the cheap by using car rental points, airline miles and hotel "award" points to pay for it all. (We had some pretty big unplanned expenses a bit earlier in the year and I figured I'd cash in some of what I'd earned before the points became devalued further.)

But while composing the previous post a message came in from Accor Hotels, announcing various offers including one with the above title. If you don't know Accor, it's okay: it's a European chain that apparently bought Motel 6 (Tom Bodett?) not too long ago.

I only signed up for Accor's program in Paris in February -- Kathy was with me, since she has family roots in Paris and Parisian French is her other native language. (Never ask her a question when she's running numbers; she does that in French and it takes her a few seconds to switch.) Somehow I've already been elevated two status levels from Classic to Silver and now Gold.

But I found "Paris without Parisians" --from a European hotel chain-- so funny! (Think of "Midland without Midlanders"; Kathy will tell you you have nothing!)

She and I have yet to meet the infamous rude Parisian (and that includes me when I have been on my own). It's a lovely historic city, even in February. Learn a few words and phrases ("Lonely Planet" publishes excellent pocket guides -- I have a shelf full) and you're golden. And if not, you can point to the book!

Midlanders and Michiganders seem to get about quite a bit more than other Americans, so take this as a pointer. (Had I mentioned that waiting in line to ascend the Eiffel Tower on my first visit to Paris I learned that the couple in front of us lived only blocks from my house in MI just before we moved to Midland?)

Accor. I am almost ready to book a trip for a committee meeting in Switzerland in a month. It looks like Accor will get some of my business there. Unlike my preferred airline; it's going to be coach class and probably middle seat all the way. Oh well.

But maybe I'm just accumulating points we can use for the 50th Reunion.

Classmate Roster

It's surprising to see the pageload counter still rising, albeit slowly.

In any event, I was looking at the Classmate Roster today, and just realized the huge effort it must have required to accumulate addresses, phone numbers and e-mail addresses of the vast majority of over 800 classmates and "friends" (like me).

Having tried to locate old friends before (did Keith become an architect in San Francisco? did Andy go into electronics after all?), even with Internet services it's dicey. I just tried to locate myself online and failed -- though I found a few guys nearby with the same name and with wives whose names are, or are close to, Kathy. Eerie.

So I wonder how the Reunion Committee did that.

A pity to see all the "Please send email to confirm this information" and "Please contact us" notes in the roster. But perhaps some folks aren't interested. I wonder if there was followup. I forgot how I learned about the reunion; my best guess is that it was through Classmates.com.

Oh darn. I need to look up Dave Sweet again; we'd been in contact and I'm going to be in his locale the other side of the country no less than three times in the next three months. Maybe we can get together -- but not the first trip a week and half from now. It's a new committee's kickoff meeting that starts at noon on Monday and ends at noon Tuesday (handy for East Coast folks), but I already have a dinner meeting Sunday with a few of us early-arriving West Coasters, a morning meeting Monday (the same plus a few more), and a probable wrap-up afternoon meeting Tuesday that will dwindle as we variously depart for home. But the next two are longer stays with evenings free.

Ah. He's still in my Gmail contacts.

And a few of my own

Naturally I had to take photos of my old neighborhood, since I's made the long journey to get there. But per Lynda's request, and for sharing with my family, I put a set online.

Probably not interesting if you didn't know the neighborhood on W Nelson. My house looks much the same as it did, except that it really shrank a lot over 40 years. The lawn too, which seemed interminably long when I had to mow it.

The Andersons' house -- what a shock. With a new roofline and other changes it's no longer "ultramodern 50s."

Nope, we have photos!

The MHS1970 page now has photos from the reunion, and hundreds of them. Thanks to Phil Bradford, Tom Braun, Margo Lyon Rogers, Joellen Snow, Kathi Wood and David Wise!! And to Paul Sinclair, who I believe collected all these and posted. Great job!

(And I see I was successful at dodging others' cameras.)

Last Post?

Perhaps a more melancholy note than intended (though that's a very Gaelic thing) but it appears this blog has reached its end, a week later than I originally anticipated. But there's nothing more to say unless Kathy (who was been extremely busy since our return) has something.

Our visit to Midland was a good one and I am more than glad Kathy and I went. We've seen aspects of the old Midland living on today (the people!) but I've also seen a bit of how Midland is, as we heard a few times there, "A great place to be... from."

I also have no doubt that we'll be back sometime, probably well before the 50th reunion in 2020. Until then, slàn leibh agus slàinte mhath. (Goodbye and good health!)

Do keep it!

The main page for the Midland High School Class of 1970 states:

"This website will remain online for the foreseeable future due to interest in many of the pages that remain."

By all means!!

I've had a rather similar question about this blog as it inevitably winds down post-reunion, but some folks are finding value/interest in the Midland today photos and that alone might be reason to keep it up for a while. I actually have more photos of the Community Center, Eastlawn Elementary, Central Intermediate and Midland High School if folks are interested. I'm sure not many are interested in more of Barstow Woods, Nelson Street today (other than Lynda), and the Tridge from close up in poor lighting...

There's always the 50th

I've had e-mail exchanges with a few friends and classmates since the reunion and there's been a common theme through them: "How was it we didn't get the time to sit and visit?" So much going on, so many people, it's not surprising. But I know if/when I'm headed to/through Richmond VA or Kalamazoo MI (there are Kalamazoos in AR, FL, and WV!) or the D.C. area, I have friends to contact. And they likewise, if they're in the Seattle area (there is only one Seattle).

I've heard that some folks have had small get-togethers on their own; I'm guessing old friends from back then. And that there have been regional get-togethers too, though such is not likely here: there are five of us self-identified as being in the Puget Sound region, the furthest less than an hour away on Fox Island but... I only knew one of the other four and she probably doesn't remember me.

Outside of D.C., my work travels don't seem to take me places where those I know of the Class of 1970 are located. I had my hopes up for having the USA host my ISO committee's annual meeting in Santa Fe next year (Anne M.?), but "we" chose Chicago instead for convenient access. (The last USA hosting, in Key West, was hugely inconvenient but a memorable stay.)

Oh well. There's always the 50th reunion.

Michigan maple syrup

I forget when I purchased this little bottle of (presumably) Michigan maple syrup; it was probably about the time a few years when I started thinking about a visit to Michigan. But I know exactly where I purchased it: at the Michigania store in DTW airport.

Nevertheless, it's sat on the shelf ever since -- until this morning when, as we were discussing last week's visit, I decided it was time for Kathy to try this syrup for comparison to Connecticut, Vermont and Canadian syrup. "Light Grade A" she pronounced it, a light sweet taste that I like much more than the heavy brown stuff.

I can (hopefully) buy another tourist bottle the next time I'm connecting through DTW, probably later this month or sometime the next, but now I have to find a real source for this syrup. Mrs. Butterworth's just doesn't make the grade.

Comments opened

When I started this blog I had been having trouble with comment spam on another blog, and apparently left comments restricted to those with various forms of Internet ID. They're open now; you can comment anonymously.

Changes 3 - what's changed

This post will complete the photo set for this blog. As with most of the other "Changes" photos, click on the photo to see a larger image. And like the Changes 2 - what's gone posting, I don't have handy references of what things were like in 1968 though you can probably find many in the school yearbooks of that time. The sets of photos are presented here in no particular order (they're actually comprised of two chronological sequences, one by the pocket camera and the other by the larger pseudo-dSLR).

The first thing I saw when we arrived was this "Midland Plaza" sign. Now I am pretty sure that sign was there when I left, and it certainly looks old enough, but none of that old "Midland Plaza" exists any more and the sign looks rather out of place amidst such modern buildings.

One thing that has changed greatly since 1968 is the Community Center. The increase in size was evident from satellite photographs and the outside of the building but not what they did with the space. When I left it was head & shoulders above anything I have seen elsewhere, but they went on to add more space, more programs, more athletics ... all I can say is, "Wow!" (Or, in '64-speak, "Keen!")

Many thanks to Bob (MHS graduate 1965) for his excellent and informative guided tour. By the end of it Kathy was ready to move to Midland just to have such a facility accessible; we have nothing even remotely like it in Redmond.

It has a fancy new logo, on the side of the building.

The pool facilities are something. The lap pool seen in the previous set is the one I was long familiar with, but they've added a huge family or play pool which, Bob says, gets pretty busy in the winter. I bet: that was one disadvantage of the old outdoor pool, plus you won't get sunburned here. (Yes, this picture is inexpertly spliced together.)

But the Mirror Room was one of the sad points of the tour for me. Like many kids I spent many a Saturday afternoon here watching filmstrip cartoons, or going over to the game room to play various games, and buying snacks and sodas at the refreshment stand -- all gone.

It makes sense that the cartoons are no longer a draw; kids today have their own distractions... but I wonder: Where was everyone? They weren't at the Center, the playing fields were all vacant, a very few families were having picnics at Emerson Park; Midland looked like a ghost town that Saturday.

Moving on to Midland High School, the new entrance, um, stood out. I confess to being a little bit of a "retro-grouch" (I prefer stickshift automobiles, my road bicycle uses friction-shifters) so I won't say more, except that it's possible the design might avoid the accident that befell a couple of folks in the winter of '67-'68 when they opened the front doors (flat to the face of the building) and a huge gust of wind closed the glass doors -- around them. This design might reduce the mount of pressure buildup... never mind.

Nice new sign out front.

The extension beyond the (old?) band/orchestra room wing.

One thing I noted here, and in subsequent school building visits, is the dramatic decrease in window space in new extensions and in updates to existing buildings. I an only assume this is due to two factors: the cost of new, more energy-efficient windows and the desire to increase insulation, but it is sad to see. Through my work I have ventured into the realm of energy-efficient (commercial) buildings and thence to "green" buildings. Sure, with fewer windows the students won't be looking out them and daydreaming, but I am not sure this improves the learning environment.

It may be noted that both Frank Lloyd Wright and Alden Dow seemed to prefer buildings that connect to the outside... but I am not an architect either. Moving on.

Eastlawn Elementary: nice big shady trees, nice grass lawns, nicer than what we had back then; I'm guessing there's good topsoil above the sandy soil now. The old school looks better than I remember it!

The entrance I used most, for 4th- 6th grade. "New" doors, replacing the heavy old wooden doors, but once again... the windows. As I noted in an earlier post, today's students won't enjoy the smell of summer wafting in through the windows on the last day of school. But... they'll have A/C.

On to Central Intermediate, or as it's known today, "Central Middle School." First thing I noticed: the grey brick areas are the old windows. The one on the left is the music room, and in my humble opinion it's a tragedy they took away all the window area; great views (especially when it was snowing, says memory), now gone.

One side of the new school entrance. Much more modern, but I'm still a retro-grouch.

The entrance on the north side, in addition to daily use used for dances and the like (led straight to the gym). Go Cavaliers! (Hm. I went to a California school whose mascot was a Mustang [not the car], and a university where we were Gauchos. Is there a pattern here? I've marched behind too many horses in parades to care for them much.)

Nice new sign out front.

Beyond personal memories there are other changes in Midland. The Tridge, for example, which I've never seen before. There are better, more professional pictures online: this was taken during a whirlwind afternoon tour in mediocre lighting, a small contribution to the set. Amusingly, when I walked to the center of the bridge I was asked by some visitors (one from near here in Washington state!) about which river was which -- I told them I was guessing because I'd been away a LONG time but named them, and named them correctly.

Currie Stadium in Emerson Park. Not all at how I remember it. I remember an ugly block building (without the stadium seating; we called it the blockhouse) where, in winter, you could don skates to go skating on the ice formed by flooding the playing fields. Out on the periphery where the ice layout was scattered was a great place to play tag; fun times. The building I remember seems to be the "administration" core today, unimproved.

Finally, the new Midland City Seal. Somehow the old one, which showed smokestacks spewing smoke to create a haze above the city, no longer seemed to somebody to symbolize progress.

It's a completely new Midland now, though it still shows its roots in the Midland I remember.

Changes 2 - what's gone

It is of course very difficult to show pictures of what's not there without reference pictures, but as a boy it just never occurred to me to take pictures of what was right around me all the time. Trips to Philmont Scout Ranch, sure, but the mundane life in Midland was as it "always has been and always shall be, world without end, Amen" well, no. Right. So I don't have any "before" pictures from 42+ years ago, sad as that is, and at least for the Central Park pool I have not found any online.

So this posting will be relatively short, I think. At least my very worst fears, pretty well allayed long before I set out, of finding something like Cat Stevens' "Ruins" were simply not to be. And Kathy's reflection alone says the line "And nobody / Helpin' no-one else" does not apply to Midland.

Speaking of the pool, here is all you see today. A pity: I had a lot of fun playing in that pool, diving off the boards, and in my bad-boy times with friends lobbing colored-smoke bombs into the pool. Lots of memories tied to this place -- but I guess it must have become too old and too expensive to repair so they just demolished it.

The only other place I could point to was the Circle. It was a shame to see the roundabout breached, but it seems possible that the Michigan driving style and roundabouts don't mesh. I learned to drive in the SF Bay Area, not known for its driving friendliness, but lived in the Santa Cruz mountains where cooperation was the name of the game on their narrow mountain roads, and then Seattle which had the world's politest drivers -- maybe not as much any more but still up there. And roundabouts... But I digress.

Anyway, seeing this building empty was sad. I do not know if it had all been replaced or merely a façade redone, but this was the old Nugent's (I think) drugstore. The only retail building with a highly functional A/C system in summer -- a great draw for us kids. And a source for all sorts of things such as CO2 cartridges which were never put to their intended use but ended up in rockets and "bombs."

And stuff for school; I still have the tiny red Swingline Tot stapler (plus a box of staples) purchased there for 7th grade at Central Intermediate. (Last use was, I think, on some paper submitted towards my Master's degree.)

This is the hardest picture of all: the south end of the Circle as seen from the north. Where are all the business establishments? Where's the bowling alley?

There's a florist & gift shop on Ashman just off the circle that I think was there in the 60s, but my memories of that are too faint. I was in it only once or twice with my mother.

About the bandshell

As I noted in the previous posting, I wasn't sure whether this was the same band shell I remembered or not. Part of the difficulties was (of course) the trees! In my time there were one or two trees growing immediately behind it, hiding the back side.

But I was persuaded it was the same when I saw the concrete steps leading to the stage (click on the picture for a larger view).



And you can certainly see its 1950s-era lines in this shot. Camp enough to be worth saving, don't you think?

Changes 1 - what didn't

I guess it's time to move on to some photos from the visit and I'll start off with what's probably the least interesting -- what didn't change (much) over the past 42 years. Having lived ever since Midland in areas that change so fast that a 100-year-old farmhouse with nothing else to commend it is put on the registry of historic buildings, well, it's amazing that enough of what I remember in Midland remains, some of it virtually unchanged. Now I am sure there is a LOT more than just this, but I was limited by time to my most frequent haunts.

First off is the Community Center entrance. There are some minor changes, such as the drive to the right not going as deep as I recall, but that's little enough. The Community Center itself though, wow... but I'll talk about that in the "what changed" posting). Nevertheless, it was amazing to recall this entrance after so long a time. (And please don't tell me the walkway was actually erected later...?)

Next is the pool. Spent many a time in the winter in that pool, not to mention P.E. classes from Central Intermediate and swim team. Almost unchanged except for the windows through to the center entrance and the new windows up high. Oh, and the removal of the high board from which my first attempt at a high dive ended up in a painful belly flop!

Midland High School, a view from behind because the front has changed. But I see the same old windows which are no doubt due for replacement because they're not very energy efficient.

Eastlawn Elementary. I don't remember there ever being windows into the gym; they've always been bricked up. A lot of work on the grounds, including grass in front of the gym. It was more challenging shooting marbles on the rough bare ground that used to be there.

The bleachers, or at least some of them, on Central Intermediate's field. Spent a lot of time marching on that field, in games and for practice. I hope the now-forgotten French horn player has forgiven me for dropping the bell of my brass sousaphone on his back once when practicing a bow.

And the refreshments stand at the north end of the field. I was surprised to see that still there, apparently unchanged.

The band shell in Central Park. Sold a lot of ice cream from my cart there one summer. Also performed a few times there. Interestingly, this is one item I thought had changed. First because it showed up so brightly on the satellite photos and second because memory recalled a rounded grey concrete shell. The first is no doubt due to the bright white paint coating it now, but the second... the design of that shell is so 50s it has to be original. (But I bet some imaginative painting could make it look good enough to keep another 42 years.)

St. John's Episcopal, where I was confirmed, served as acolyte and usher, and was a youth group member. (And my father was one of the assistant ministers.) I would have liked to have taken pictures of the interior but the place was locked up most of the time and I was ill enough Sunday morning we couldn't catch the early service, and actually slept past the 10:00 also. This was a hard choice of photos, but I went for the one with the sign out front.

And finally Barstow Woods, with many subtle changes but so overall unchanged I was able to navigate the main paths from memory. (Not that there was much to remember, but some of the little side trails have unsurprisingly changed.) Of course, the trees are also all changed, as I could see in the clearing to the East, by the "new" parking lot.

Reflections On a Visit "Home"(1)

Thank you, Bill, for giving me this opportunity to offer an outsider's perspective on your journey back to Midland, Michigan. This was my first time experiencing the place you fondly recall as your boyhood "home." I enjoyed my time in Michigan very much and I hope to return there for a more in depth look and to gain a more than passing "feel" for it.

From the beginning (before we even left DTW) I was treated to Michigan hospitality. The TSA agent who showed concern for my infirmity as I limped past her station was remarkable. Her attentiveness and helpful hints on how to get where we were going with minimal walking made me feel at home - like some one cared. The desk clerk at the hotel where we stayed our first night was friendly, courteous and went out of his way to make us feel welcome and appreciated. It is the little things that really make a stay! Hot pizza and a cold beer at almost midnight - well, let's just say that hit the spot!

Next day - it's off to three of your former homes and schools: Clausson, Pleasant Ridge and Lake Orion.... still great places to live and raise a family from what I could tell. Again, the people in each place where we stopped were friendly, curious a little why we would come such a long way to visit their neighborhood.... Yes, our personal history sometimes needs refreshing and this trip did it, I think. I noticed the care each community has take of its aging schools and the pride they displayed in their bulletin boards and literature on the entry tables. I got a real sense of solid middle America in all three places. The sights, the sounds, the smells - they all formed a strong picture for me of a place where time could actually stand still for a while.... Some things have changed; others have remained virtually untouched. I know from my own experience growing up overseas that it is the things that remain untouched that give us a sense of grounding and permanence. I know I needed that touching back to keep my sense of who I was.

Lake Orion was a surprise in many ways - at first it was just another town on a lake, but then the luncheon at a local restaurant brought the history of the place to life.... Yup! There is significant history in this town - sort of like Niantic, Connecticut (a seaside town that has seen its ups and downs also) - a "vacation" spot that became a permanent settlement and grew into a sizable town. I want to sail on that lake some day!

Then Midland... Wow! I hadn't quite realized how large it is - maps don't tell me much, you know. I was impressed with how clean it is, and how spread out - even the less well kept areas aren't seedy at all. Time is not always kind.... The people, again! The AAA office receptionist was welcoming, cheerful and glad to help us find our way. The hotel was great, too!

Most of all, I liked seeing your old neighborhood, the schools and the places you frequented. The Community Center (with pools and multiple other facilities for all ages!) - I really wish we had something like that here in Redmond! Again, the friendly welcome and the tour were over the top. I expected that a place that busy could not spare any staff for a "reminiscing" tour. But, that was the beginning of what I noticed was a reconnecting for you. It really is a small world, isn't it?

The get together in Plymouth Park was a nice time to meet folks and get a feel for this huge group of former MHS students. The conversations were loud and animated - there were some spots where people were more quiet and reflective, but all in all this was a lively crowd, funn loving and really welcoming of spouses and families. Imagine a giant family reunion - where we need name tags because we can't quite remember everyone..... (i.e. my grandmother's 100th Birthday) The people, again (I know, I'm sounding like a broken record, but...) - friendly, welcoming and glad to help a stranger get acquainted. Soon I felt like I could actually belong in a place like Midland. It became really clear why you kept saying that my part of Connecticut was a lot like Michigan.

(more late)

The (Neighborhood) Boys of Summer 1963

The above photo was taken Sunday afternoon in Nelson Park on W Nelson St., almost across from my old house. I will assume it was some wag who put the plate in front of the sign and I commend him, but I found it quite a bit more sad given the historic context of the sign. To wit:

The empty lot that is now Nelson Park was long used by us neighborhood kids for play, kite-flying and other games, but baseball most of all. Home plate used to be in the northwest corner of the park, but this had the disadvantage that home runs to right field landed over the fence in the beautiful gardens around the small brick house still there, tended by an old couple remembered by some of us only as "The Shelleys" (sp?). The Shelleys reasonably did not like have us kids trampling their flowers and so we generally knew them as people who were not very nice. (I related earlier in this blog their response the one time I politely requested entry and when it was granted I was very careful in recovering the ball. They were forever nice to me after that and that's how I remember them to this day.)

Sometime around 1963 the neighborhood parents got together to buy a backstop for the "park", and put it in in the southwest corner where only pop flies would land in the Shelleys' garden. This did have the new disadvantage that home runs to left field tended to hit the Andersons' house due north of the lot but this didn't seem to be a problem. Though I did watch in horror one day as my one and only ever grand-slam headed right for one of the windows of the Andersons' house (Ken's room, to be exact), then to be amazed as the window bowed in... and back out as the ball bounced off! Of course we were using tennis balls, because anything else would have been more damaging.

That was still the setup when I left in 1968.

I had noted before my return visit that this was now a city park with trees, and I'd wondered how they made that work with baseball. The answer was: They didn't. There is a sign posted, explicitly prohibiting baseball and golf. Golf? Okay -- there is some history I do not know.

Fair enough, I guess. If the city bought the park they can make the rules and I am sure some subsequent resident of the Andersons' house was not much into broken windows and lobbied for the ban.

But when I looked at the setup in the photo it looked to me very much like the fencing frame upon which the prohibition is posted is a remnant of the original batting backstop dating back to 1963. I could be wrong, but I see no other reason for that frame to be just where it is, sized as it is, angled as it is.

If so, that's just a little slap in the face. But for my part I'd vote to keep that plate exactly where it is! Sign it "The (Neighborhood) Boys of Summer 1963" if you have to. This was once a neighborhood ballfield, and a few of us Midlanders won't soon forget the fun we had playing ball there.

Virginia is for Lovers, Michigan is for... Shutterbugs?

An interesting survey of the geographical distribution of gadget preferences. Seems Michiganders are more likely to have point-n-shoot cameras.

The secret life of urban trees

Probably to most of us suburbanites it seems like trees are forever. For the few years we live in some location there's usually little change in the trees around us. Even in my house in Washington state, where I've lived for over a dozen years, the property is essentially unchanged even though a few big trees were downed in a huge windstorm a few years ago.

So it was with a small surprise that I learned it doesn't seem to be so with urban trees. Certainly one has to expect changes over 4 decades and some, such as the growth of little saplings into big shady trees, as I noted here, is to be expected.

And perhaps I should have taken warning from the street this house resides on: in my time in front of every house there stood a tall upstanding oak (which made huge leaf piles that were a joy to play in, before we burned them), so unlike western oaks and especially the sprawling every-which-way California oaks. But when we visited this street Friday all of the oaks were gone, if replaced at all replaced by a variety of trees lacking rhyme and reason.

And so it was in Midland, when we toured Saturday. Some things remained the same, some had changed a little, some had changed a lot, but the trees... were all different! Now I had expected that some would be gone, especially the giant apple tree on Ashman between Nelson and Helen that friends and I spent many hours clambering about and playing on. But I was surprised to see that every tree I could remember at all seemed to be gone. The other apple trees on the aforementioned property, for example.

And the new trees where none existed. In my time our house never had a tree out front but there's a good-sized one now. And the next-door neighbors -- not surprised the crabapples are all gone, but the nicely sized and shaped maple that stood in the middle of their lawn is replaced by a very similar maple between the sidewalk and the street. Almost as if they'd picked the tree up and moved it.

So I got to wondering about the lifetimes of trees. I didn't search too far before I found the USFS' "Urban Tree Risk Management" online. The headings alone tell a story, and suggest why I didn't see any of the old trees I remember. The life of a manicured and cared-for urban tree is very different from that of a tree loose in the wild.

Home remedy

Sitting in Atlanta airport on my back to Seattle, I've been mulling over the nature of homesickness. I think it may come in two parts: being in a new place where one is less than happy, and wanting to be back in an old place where one was at the very least happier, for whatever reasons. Nothing new or insightful here (I would hope!) and if it doesn't go on for too long it's normal.

The danger occurs when it does go on for years or more; it sits unresolved and gets buried -- but it's never gone. The symptom is that the longing for "home" comes up from time to time. On the other hand it has to be differentiated from affection, even a strong affection. But the remedy could be as simple as: go for a visit.

As this blog records I involuntarily left familiar friends, home and culture for a place less welcome to me in all regards. (I want to emphasize "to me" because at least one of my Midland friends wound up in a place that would be difficult for me, but for what little I know of it and him today, it seems a perfect fit. And that's good.) And I made accommodations, but it still came out from time to time (as I see I posted on Friday, 8th paragraph).

And I had thought about visiting, but if everyone I knew was gone what was the purpose? A lot of time and expense just to take some pictures? Not worth it, says the old Scotch heart, "bang goes saxpence!"*

Until I happened to learn last winter about the reunion through Classmates. And hoo-boy, did that ever wake the sleeping dragon! Do I go, or not? What about this, what about that? The expense, the expense...

Well, you know the outcome. We came. We were welcomed, and it was more than great to see Lynda in person again, to meet Dr. Rich(ard) Youle**, and more -- but the tipping point came when this woman walks up to me ("who is she? who is she? her face is familiar! i should know her name, but what is it...?"), addresses me by name and adds, "I'm Margo Lyon."

Kathy will tell you, at that moment I was undone. At home. Back with long-lost friends.

Thank you, Margo!

But for all this was a major part of the visit, it wasn't all of it. I had to see how Midland had changed. Part I had seen already when we entered town at the south end of Saginaw where AAA gave us a map of Midland about a half-century more recent than mine. Kathy laughed when I said it but had to agree as we drove up Saginaw that this was "the El Camino Real of Midland"; the reference is to a road that runs up the SF Peninsula with an unending mish-mosh of establishments of retail, restaurants, repair (all kinds) and rest (i.e. motels).

I'll talk about the changes more in later posts but what was clear that first day, Friday, was that Midland had changed a lot. I still had to learn how much.

Already it was plainly evident that the town I recalled was, to no surprise, long since gone. The question ahead was, and remains, how much remains? I do not yet have anything like a full answer.

But the cure for "home" had begun. The jumble of memories tossed hastily into drawers could now be pulled out, dusted off, reviewed, and put away cleanly.

And now, while today's Midland recedes in increasing miles behind me on my journey away, so does yesterday's Midland recede increasingly back to the time when it belongs, more precious than anyplace before or since but still... gone forever.

* Looking up a reference for the phrase I ran into this:

Near Berwick-upon-Tweed, I was reduced to smiling and chuckling inanely at a gas station attendant who was obviously trying to be friendly, and who was otherwise entirely incomprehensible.


A mile or so further on, there came a sign: "Last Pub in England." It drew a laugh - the first pub in Scotland was all of a mile away, and anyway, both were closed - but a slightly hollow one. The joke would be a painful one if I could not understand a word of the interviews I had scheduled.

Kathy will laugh at this because we were this exact place in 1996 and saw those signs.

** Dr. Youle, for many years one of my committees have met in your general neighborhood, I think; in Germantown MD, in the spring. IF that continues (it's not certain), maybe we could meet some evening. OTOH, I am occasionally at meetings at NIST.

On the road again...

We're not quite done here in Midland -- lunch with a local, two or three stops with photos, but by mid-afternoon we should be on the road to Detroit, beginning our trip back to Seattle. It's been a wonderful time.

Party's over

Well, it's over.

At the outset it was awkward, meeting with folks with often-familiar names and occasionally-familiar faces (sometimes from the then-and-now pages on the reunion website). But as the events went on it was sometimes having old memories come up, sometimes being reminded, and sometimes observing patterns of speech, expression and action still familiar over the decades, which peeled away the stranger in front of one to reveal the friend so long ago.

But even the "false positives," the ones you probably didn't know back then (and they were many with a class as large as ours) could become friends too.

Perhaps it's somewhat different for those who've attended all the 10th-year reunions and those who've had their own mini-reunions; they've followed each others' lives since. But even they encounter those who pop up as awkward long-lost stranger-friends.

Perhaps some old connections have been renewed and will remain. And there are still opportunities in tomorrow's informal events that some may attend: Catholic Mass in the morning and the Loons game in the afternoon.

But this may begin a somewhat bittersweet time for reflecting on old friends re-encountered. Perhaps, as several folks noted, this becomes more important as we advance in life with children grown and gone, thinking more on our own cultural roots. And there may be other reasons for looking back and re-connecting.

What we do as we leave may be as varied as we are, with reasons as varied. Some may go right back to their daily life. Some may desire a time of quiet and reflection before the world inevitably presses back in with its daily cares.

But this party is over. It has been a better time than I'd even hoped, but those who've followed the blog will understand I might need my own time for reflection. There is much to think about. The work e-mail can just wait until Monday, or since I will traveling home that day, Tuesday when I return to the office.

A big thank you to the MHS 40th Reunion Committee: Kathy Blake Schultz, Kris Clauss Harrison, Alan Cook, Ron Cook, Anne DeBoer, Lorie Eden Murphy, Nancy Humbyrd Hull, Kris Kivela Stoneburner, Barb Lowry, Nancy Nunemaker, Pete Poznak and Paul Sinclair!

Some have asked me about the future of this blog. It is certainly not done yet: if nothing else Kathy will become a guest poster on the blog; she certainly has a different perspective on Michigan and Midlanders. And I have a few photos to select, process, upload and share; I will let Paul Sinclair know when they are ready.

Safe travels.

Ev'rybody get together

Just a few photos from last evening's get-together at the Plymouth Park Pavilion.

When we arrived shortly after 6:30 the event was well underway.

As the evening went on more and more folks arrived -- and more difficult as it got darker, until somebody found the lightswitch (sometime after this picture was taken). The place was hopping by that time.

A group photo of the Eastlawn alumnae present. Kathy kept complaining it was difficult to get a good shot because we were acting like second-graders. But Kathy, it's Eastlawn Elementary!

I look forward to tonight's event.

Random notes

It seems we're not the only reunion in town. On checking in at the Hampton yesterday there was another couple here for the joint 30th (35th?) MHS&Dow reunion. Something happened to their plans but they're coming anyway and punting. Good for them and I hope it goes well.

Poked my head out a bit ago and it looks like the thunderstorms I saw in the forecast aren't here. So the golfing group should be having a good time. (It's not as early as it appears; the clock on this blog is set to Pacific time and it just might be confusing to adjust it now).

Visiting at the get-together last night was great fun -- especially when old memories started to revive above the "I remember your name" level. But memories can be awfully slow awakening from fourty years of slumber, so if I don't remember things at first please remind me.