The Twilight Zone

Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a great battle.  Attributed to Philo of Alexandria

I had a remarkable, even miraculous experience on Saturday night. As we left my high-school class’s party, my husband asked if I’d had a good time. “I feel like Cinderella,” I said. “I feel like this evening made high school worth it.”

We had gathered to celebrate our 60th birthdays this year. The mood was celebratory, but, even so, everyone’s kindness was inexplicable. What happened was that bunches of people said bunches of nice things to me. I can’t account for this, because they weren’t so forthcoming at previous reunions, including our 40th two years ago. 

“Boys” who never glanced at me in high school (or so I thought), whom I would have dated in a heartbeat, approached me to say astonishing things. One revealed that he had always felt a connection between us. Another said he was glad I was always there. Two female classmates–with whom I’m pretty sure I exchanged not a word in high school–said…well, they just said a whole lot of nice things. This happened over and over, all night. None of these people were drunk, as far as I could tell.


Finally, near the evening’s end, an Adonis I had always admired from afar told me that my smile helped get him through high school. I looked behind me to see who he was really talking to. He smiled and pointed directly at me. “I had a terrible time in high school,” he said. “And when I came in tonight and saw you, I remembered how much your smile meant to me. I just had to come over to tell you.”

Then he told me a little about his adolescent struggles, coping with a family death and other problems. I told him I had had no idea. I thought his life was hunky-dory. (It was mine that sucked.) “I was good at hiding my feelings. I covered everything up so I wouldn’t have to deal with it,” he told me. Didn’t we all.

I hesitate to write about this because of how self-serving it sounds. Trust me–I was not a saintly presence spreading love and good will in my high school. I was quiet, confused, judgmental, afraid, self-conscious, overly serious, and largely oblivious to other people’s pain.

My surreal, moving, and hilariously unlikely experience last weekend demonstrated that I had no idea what was going on around me at Oakwood High School circa 1969. Nobody escapes high school unscathed. The cool people were, perhaps,  just as unhappy as you. And maybe the cool people in your life right now, the ones you envy, find encouragement in your sheepish smile.

Your thoughts about high school, reunions, and Philo of Alexandria would be very welcome.

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2 Responses to The Twilight Zone

  1. Leda says:

    Not sure how I missed this, Kathy! Life certainly has changed all of us. Whatever our experiences were in high school, it is amazing the adults we have all grown up to be. The successes some have achieved are just terrific and of those, a few totally unexpected! I completely enjoyed the evening but even more I liked helping to make it happen. I am glad so many had such a good time connecting with “old” friends. I hope it only gets better each time. We are very fortunate to come from such a diverse group of people who still call themselves friends even after 50 years. Not many can say that.
    Thank you for sharing your thoughts with us!

  2. robin koslen says:

    First of all I had to look up Philo of Alexandria and I still am confused.
    I had a similar experience (but not on the scale you described) last year at my 40th. I too couldn’t get it. My only insight is that we were both probably more sensitive to others than we think we were. We might not have been terrific but weren’t mean and in high school that counts for a lot. Wouldn’t it be nice to be able to go back and actually see yourself back those many years. As far as the cool people go, I am pretty sure that they may have been the most insecure that’s why they had to be and work to be so cool.

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