A woman named Rosa Barnett called to ask me if I would be attending our high school reunion.  "I don't remember you," she said, "but you must have been very popular." "Not really," I replied.  "If I had been very popular, surely you would remember me." "Well, I'm on the reunion committee and that's unlikely, too, but everyone seems eager for you to come," she tried again. "You must have been very smart." "No, I wasn't very smart," I said.  "If I was, I certainly didn't demonstrate it too much." "Then you must have been very cute," she came back. "No, I wasn't very cute, either," I said.  "But thanks, anyhow."Three pitches and three strikes.  I think I'm the one who struck out.

I was having difficulty deciding whether or not I wanted to attend my Allderdice High School reunion this Saturday night at the Sheraton at Station Square.  The theme for the evening is "The Class of '60 turns 60." That's frightening itself. Yes, indeed, I will be turning 60 this August 20.  It's hard to believe, except when I'm shaving or combing my hair, looking in the mirror each morning. There's a part of me that thinks I'm still 14, but that part of me is telling me lies.

 While talking to Rosa Barnett, I decided I should go.  I think I had abetter time when I attended my wife's reunion of her class at McKeesport High School about ten or twelve years ago than I did my own around the same time.  Maybe that's why I was hesitant.
 My days at Allderdice weren't the best days of my life.  I transferred there midway through my sophomore year.  I had started out at Central Catholic High School.  I was a much better student at Central.  I was on the honor roll there all six terms I attended the school in Oakland. But I had wanted to go to Allderdice in the first place.  My sister and brother had gone there.  So when I had a chance I decided to transfer.

I did better in a more disciplined environment imposed by the Christian Brothers.  I played hooky a lot at Allderdice. Some of my fondest memories of Allderdice are of the times I skipped school. I preferred pool halls and burlesque halls in downtown Pittsburgh where
there were characters aplenty and interesting scenes.   I did not distinguish myself, or establish any real identity, at Allderdice. The elite students there were mostly Jewish kids from Squirrel Hill. Those of us who were bussed in from communities on the outskirts of Squirrel Hill never really felt part of the "in" crowd.  I got along well with everybody,
but I didn't work hard and wasn't goal-oriented.  I wasn't on the school newspaper or yearbook.  I was on the outside looking in.

 When school was over we got on the bus ten minutes later and wenthome.  We weren't really bona fide Dragons. A fellow I knew and respected was the class president and the captainof the football team.  I'm told he's had a hard time and was homeless for awhile, before moving back into his parent's home.  Two of the best-looking and most popular guys, I learned at the last reunion, committed suicide.

I'm sure I envied those guys.  You never know how things will turn out. I found my way at Pitt, and blossomed as a college student.  I succeeded in ways I never succeeded in high school.  So I've been lucky.

I learned a lot at Allderdice.  I had some excellent teachers who helped me with my writing, my public speaking, my reading and my appreciation for history.  They insisted I talk properly.  I was fortunate to have them. I am hoping the girls will all look the same as they did in jewelry class. Yes, I took jewelry class.
 

 Most of all, I want my former classmates to see and meet my wife, Kathie. Then they will know that I have turned out all right and, for the most part, life has been good since my days at Allderdice High School.  I'll let you know next week how it turns out

I didn't take a camera to my high school class reunion.  I don't want to have any pictures of the way we look now.  I prefer to remember us the way we were that summer of '60.  Our graduation class at Allderdice High School in the Squirrel Hill section of Pittsburgh had a reunion dinner Saturday night at the Sheraton of Station Square.  The theme of the get-together was "The Class of '60 Turns 60." That alone probably scared off some.  The brave ones showed up for the birthday party and 42nd year reunion.  I wasn't sure I wanted to go. 

I am thankful for the persistence of the committee that coordinated this event -- they are to be complimented for their efforts -- and I decided a week in advance to attend the reunion.
I'm glad I went.   I had a good time and everyone was most gracious.

There were about 350 people present.  A group called American Pie provided oldies
 but goodies dancing music and the dance floor was crowded all evening.

I even got to sit, completely by accident, with Adrian Valen, the most  beautiful girl in my jewelry shop class at Allderdice.  She still looks good.  We hardly said anything to each other, though, and I feel badly about that.  I was on my best behavior, though, and kept my schmoozing to a minimum.

There were some students there from the January class of '60 and '61, and their faces were familiar as well.  A fellow named Allen Seigel checked the name and picture on my i.d. tag and said, "I don't remember you. You must have been in the Class of '61."  I replied, "I don't remember you, either," and let it go at that. He was in the school orchestra, I learned in checking our yearbook, so we didn't travel in the same social circles at Allderdice.

I went to the reunion in search of some answers and came away with more questions.  Most of all, I wondered why I didn't work harder, why I wasn't a more conscientious and dedicated student, and why I wasn't in school more often.  I wished I had blended in better, and demonstrated my smarts and skills more.  I wish I had known these students better.

Jim Grossman, who followed me from Allderdice to Pitt, told me, "You sorta straddled the line with the students at our school."  That was it.

I touched bases with the best and worst students at TA, and got along with both sides, but was never really a charter member of either group.  A fellow named Harry Smith, who was from Hays, remembered me, but few others.  "I don't know these people and they don't know me," he said. Still, Harry Smith was having a good time, too.  He smiled all
night.

I pride myself in remembering faces, but I was challenged in some cases.  I had seen many of these same people at our 25th year reunion, but that was 17 years ago.  I still remembered their faces as they appeared in the 1960 yearbook.

I never looked like my picture in the 1960 yearbook.  It was airbrushed so much that I looked like something from the House of Wax.  I hated having to wear that picture as part of my i.d. badge.

  My column from last week about my apprehensions regarding the reunion were enlarged and displayed at the registration desk in the Sheraton lobby as well as on the walls in the banquet room.  So many had read my story before I got there.  I arrived fashionably late.
So I got a lot of attention I wouldn't have gotten otherwise.

Everyone wanted to make sure I had a good time. I missed seeing some of my classmates who weren't there, or had died, disappeared or simply wanted to be left alone.  They were all part of the picture at Allderdice High School.  I would have liked to see some of my teachers, the five or six special ones who taught me stuff I still put in play.  I guess I'm still a Dragon, though I doubt that I can breathe flames on anybody at this stage of my life.

I checked myself out in the mirror each time I went to the bathroom. The hair on my head and upper lip were still gray, going to silver, each and every time.  Then I checked my i.d. badge to remember my name.  I was happy and proud to have my wife, Kathie, at my side.  She's the only one I wanted to dance with, and I was glad we were going home
 together.