Revisiting "that old gang of mine"
Remember those school days way back when? When graduation drew nigh, we vowed to keep our group of close friends together, despite all. Well, despite all, it didn’t happen.
But in rare instances, it did. Not, I would venture, for any guys I’ve known. For girls, though, their bonding might even outlast new jobs, marriages and transfers--even those beyond the old neighborhood.
For how long, you might wonder. Try half a century. And counting. That’s the story for a hardy group of charming young ladies who bonded early and then lived to celebrate a joyful reunion this summer in Stafford.
I know, for I was their de facto tour guide. A burden? No, in this case I must admit it was a distinct if not macho pleasure, made easier since I belong to the hostess of their “Big Seven-Oh” event—three days of chatter plus sight-seeing, but more chatter than anything else.
Their early bonding had happened in 1950-ish Chicago. These six girls shared an upbringing closely monitored through grammar school by nuns in a little Catholic Church building in that poor South Deering neighborhood. It sat right next to a huge, soot-belching steel mill that’s now history, but back then was going full blast (along with two or three others) on the far south side of Chicago.
It was as if the pupils had never left, at least for those three days they spent here. When they first arrived at our home in Aquia Harbour, my wife was concerned they couldn’t all sit comfortably in our den. No problem. Four sat in an uncrowded row on the couch, like proper children in a church pew, happily reciting nonstop, and sometimes in unison.
“We girls were so naïve back then,” one recalled. It made me think back to my own public school experiences in west Texas, not quite so strait-laced, although a few of our teachers must have learned their craft from nuns.One of my female classmates from that era at a recent reunion marveled similarly over how innocent and naïve her own circle of schoolgirl-friends had been.
Were we boys like that also? I couldn’t vouch for young Chicago males at the time. As for my own buddies, we weren’t exactly naïve but not very adventurous either.In those days, one-piece bathing suits on babes were excitement enough. But enough about guys. This is about our lovely visitors.
Growing up had been no bed of roses, they all recalled. Following childhood’s trying times in modest households, one had become a nun for a while, and another had taken the first step towards being one. Both subsequently married and raised sizable families. Others had withstood early on the pains of childhood abuse, family split-ups, depression, alcoholism, the death of a child and, for two the challenges of becoming widowed.
But to hear them tell it now, they had hugely joyous times growing up together. Of their many recollections, one became surprisingly personal for me, for I had met them all before marrying Carole Lee, in the church they all attended in Chicago.
One guest (Doe Devitt) disclosed that she had espied me approaching Carole Lee on first sight as I made an effort to strike up a conversation—and possibly more--on a nearby Lake Michigan beach in the summer of 1955.
“When I saw him zeroing in on Carole Lee, I thought right then, ‘There goes Cupid’s Arrow.’” Right on. Sure enough, we got married six months later.
Between gossip sessions, the six former classmates saw the sights in the area during their stay. But guess where they enjoyed the most. Historic Aquia Church won hands down, for being so wonderfully well-preserved, so convenient, and so devoid of tourists.Stafford tourism promoters, take note.
And a final note: This wasn’t a unique celebration for the ladies. Their first, a Big Five-Oh, was in New York City. Their second, the Big Six-Oh, was in Cleveland. Considering a few recent infirmities that have arisen, they’ve decided they should celebrate the next one only a couple of years from now.
I must say, they have managed to get around quite a lot. Back in their youth, it was considered unseemly by their families for anyone to move out of the neighborhood, and surely nowhere beyond the Chicago area. Only two stayed.
Regardless, all have done very well from the look of things, and have much, including their close school friends (if only on occasion geographically) to be thankful for. We should all be so lucky.
*****
But in rare instances, it did. Not, I would venture, for any guys I’ve known. For girls, though, their bonding might even outlast new jobs, marriages and transfers--even those beyond the old neighborhood.
For how long, you might wonder. Try half a century. And counting. That’s the story for a hardy group of charming young ladies who bonded early and then lived to celebrate a joyful reunion this summer in Stafford.
I know, for I was their de facto tour guide. A burden? No, in this case I must admit it was a distinct if not macho pleasure, made easier since I belong to the hostess of their “Big Seven-Oh” event—three days of chatter plus sight-seeing, but more chatter than anything else.
Their early bonding had happened in 1950-ish Chicago. These six girls shared an upbringing closely monitored through grammar school by nuns in a little Catholic Church building in that poor South Deering neighborhood. It sat right next to a huge, soot-belching steel mill that’s now history, but back then was going full blast (along with two or three others) on the far south side of Chicago.
It was as if the pupils had never left, at least for those three days they spent here. When they first arrived at our home in Aquia Harbour, my wife was concerned they couldn’t all sit comfortably in our den. No problem. Four sat in an uncrowded row on the couch, like proper children in a church pew, happily reciting nonstop, and sometimes in unison.
“We girls were so naïve back then,” one recalled. It made me think back to my own public school experiences in west Texas, not quite so strait-laced, although a few of our teachers must have learned their craft from nuns.One of my female classmates from that era at a recent reunion marveled similarly over how innocent and naïve her own circle of schoolgirl-friends had been.
Were we boys like that also? I couldn’t vouch for young Chicago males at the time. As for my own buddies, we weren’t exactly naïve but not very adventurous either.In those days, one-piece bathing suits on babes were excitement enough. But enough about guys. This is about our lovely visitors.
Growing up had been no bed of roses, they all recalled. Following childhood’s trying times in modest households, one had become a nun for a while, and another had taken the first step towards being one. Both subsequently married and raised sizable families. Others had withstood early on the pains of childhood abuse, family split-ups, depression, alcoholism, the death of a child and, for two the challenges of becoming widowed.
But to hear them tell it now, they had hugely joyous times growing up together. Of their many recollections, one became surprisingly personal for me, for I had met them all before marrying Carole Lee, in the church they all attended in Chicago.
One guest (Doe Devitt) disclosed that she had espied me approaching Carole Lee on first sight as I made an effort to strike up a conversation—and possibly more--on a nearby Lake Michigan beach in the summer of 1955.
“When I saw him zeroing in on Carole Lee, I thought right then, ‘There goes Cupid’s Arrow.’” Right on. Sure enough, we got married six months later.
Between gossip sessions, the six former classmates saw the sights in the area during their stay. But guess where they enjoyed the most. Historic Aquia Church won hands down, for being so wonderfully well-preserved, so convenient, and so devoid of tourists.Stafford tourism promoters, take note.
And a final note: This wasn’t a unique celebration for the ladies. Their first, a Big Five-Oh, was in New York City. Their second, the Big Six-Oh, was in Cleveland. Considering a few recent infirmities that have arisen, they’ve decided they should celebrate the next one only a couple of years from now.
I must say, they have managed to get around quite a lot. Back in their youth, it was considered unseemly by their families for anyone to move out of the neighborhood, and surely nowhere beyond the Chicago area. Only two stayed.
Regardless, all have done very well from the look of things, and have much, including their close school friends (if only on occasion geographically) to be thankful for. We should all be so lucky.
*****
posted by Ben Blankenship at
12:51 PM
