Reunion
Where did the time go? And how did so much of it go? Fifty years. Judy was seriously considering attending her first-ever high school reunion. Really, fifty years. Between everyone’s aging appearances and the changes in her ability to remember much of anything, she thought she probably wouldn’t recognize a soul there.
She graduated in 1969 and the world then as now was in turmoil. She and her friends were trying to negotiate their ways through angst-ridden emotions and physical changes in their teenage bodies and minds while simultaneously trying to understand and reconcile the war in Vietnam, the deaths of national civil rights heroes, the riots in the cities and demonstrations on campuses nationwide. Although they had all gone their separate ways over the years, she’d had some wonderful friends in high school. She thought back to a day more than fifty years ago she spent with one of her best friends.
***
Judy’s eyes popped opened of their own accord. She willed them to close again so she could go back to sleep. She didn’t want to wake up just yet. After all, it was Saturday. For half a second, she felt a bit like she used to upon waking -- happy, full of the anticipation of a new day. Then the heartbreaking knowledge reclaimed her mind and she felt a great weight descend and seep into every cell of her body.
The house was quiet. Mom and Bud, her stepfather, were probably already at the grocery store for the weekly shopping. Darlene wasn’t in the twin bed across the room. Who knew where she was? Just as well. The two of them didn’t get along. A lifetime of growing up in a violent atmosphere did nothing to teach them how to be loving sisters. A bleak day stretched out before her. What to do?
Judy’s full bladder made her first decision for her. She padded across the hall to the only bathroom in the two-story house on North State Street where they had moved last year when her Mom remarried. It sure was a better neighborhood than the last one!
She had lost touch with friends in the old neighborhood, but now she had a new best friend, Lydia, who lived on the same street. They hung out together almost daily, listening to CKLW out of Windsor, Ontario, on the AM radio or watching Ed Sullivan on TV on Sunday nights. Walking to and from school together, Judy was largely unaware of the looks people gave them. If she had been aware, she would have been appalled and angry. But Lydia was aware of it. She expected it -- and worse.
Yesterday, Judy’s father had died. He had a massive coronary at 40 years old. She called Lydia right away, and Lydia came over. They sat opposite each other on the twin beds in Judy’s room while Judy alternated between tears and shock. Lydia wanted badly to comfort her friend but found words inadequate. So she sat on the other bed and listened.
A little later she would tell Judy, “I wanted so bad to come over there and hug you but, you know. The whole white/Black thing…” Surprised, Judy replied, “I didn’t think you and I had a white/Black thing. You are my best friend.” Unable to respond, Lydia hung her head and thought about her best friend’s inability to understand her perspective. Judy also grew quiet while wondering why and how this “white/Black thing” could possibly apply to the two of them.
***
While thinking about that day with Lydia, another memory came to Judy. This one happened in the fall after her father had died.
***
Walking home from school together one day, Judy and Lydia were talking and laughing in their usual way when they noticed a stately white woman emerge from a hairdresser’s shop up ahead of them. She was striking in her fur coat and expensive jewelry, a sight not often seen in their blue-collar world. The woman froze in the middle of the sidewalk and stared at Judy and Lydia as they approached. Lydia became quiet, expecting trouble, and motioned for Judy to look. Judy glanced again at the elegant, wealthy woman and thought Lydia was just pointing out the unusual sight. As they got close to the woman, they could see tears running down her face. She caught their eyes and spoke.
“I wish everyone in the world could get along the way you two do. It’s beautiful.” With that she dabbed at her face with a handkerchief and walked quickly to her waiting Cadillac Sedan Deville.
The two girls watched the tan car quietly glide away, then stared at each other in disbelief. That this rich woman had even spoken to a couple of poor teenage girls astonished them. That she spoke admiringly of their friendship was totally unexpected. It took Judy a minute to understand what the woman was referring to. Lydia knew immediately, having thought about it ever since she noticed the woman staring at them, even though she had expected a much different response. Their hearts were warmed by the experience. As they walked almost silently the rest of the way home, they occasionally shared a thought about the odd state of race relations in the world.
***
Fifty years. Were things really any different now between white and Black people? Not much, despite the occasional advance. Over the years Judy had grown in awareness about both the obvious and the more insidious effects of hatred and bigotry. She wondered how much her friend may have been hurt by it all. She really hoped Lydia was going to attend the reunion.
An informal get-together was held on a warm August night before the formal reunion and Judy decided to go. Much of the Class of 1969 had shown up at the OK Café, a favorite haunt of theirs. She gently elbowed her way through the crowded, narrow space between the bar and the booths, greeting a few people she recognized. As she opened the door to the bar’s patio area to go outside, someone was just reaching for the door in order to enter. Judy didn’t recognize her for a split second. Lydia recognized her though and doubled over with joy and laughter. Judy grabbed Lydia and they had that hug that had been so long coming. They would both enjoy this reunion.
