Note: This was recently submitted to the Lake County News Sun for consideration

“We’ve waited a long time for this. It’s going to be epic!” said Tony Fontana, who spearheaded this event.

Forty years ago neither Waukegan High Schools were immune to the racial tensions that were prevalent to those times. But the students came to class, ate lunch, danced at Homecoming and Prom, and played sports together. We rose above it all.

Today, the unfortunate re-occurrence of these tensions in our country gives the Class of 1977 another dimension to its 40th reunion. We again stand united – this time black, brown and white – but also East and West.

For the Class of 1977, in the middle of our high school years, the schools were separated from East and West Campuses to East and West High Schools with East Bulldogs facing the West Raiders in sports. The tried and true Purple and Gold now shared space in town with Green and Gold for loyalty and team spirit.

We were students who had been schooled together now divided.

Fast forward forty years and like the Class of 1976, the Class of 1977 is saying, “Once divided, we are now united.” That is the theme of the first major reunion for either school in almost thirty years.

“The class lists in some cases hadn’t been updated since the ten year reunion,” said Mary Beth Bretzlauf, reunion coordinator “I am most fortunate to have a team of committed volunteers who poured over the lists for “lost” or deceased classmates. Others called phone numbers that were mostly disconnected. Everyone came to the table ready to use their talents. We called ourselves the Nitty Gritty Committee.”

Facebook was very effective in getting the word out, and finding classmates, surveying the dates best for classmates and sharing memories. Still with so many classmates who didn’t have Facebook accounts, the committee had to rely on those with Facebook to reach out to the classmates who didn’t.

Instead of gathering for one night, the Class of 1977’s reunion is a weekend of events. Beginning with this Friday, East and West come together at Anastasia’s at Fountain Square in Waukegan for appetizers and cocktails. The next day, there is a catered picnic by Captain Porky’s (classmate Dino Kallianis’s establishment) at Greenbelt Forest Preserve. Sunday winds down with a bowling challenge at Bertrand’s Lanes in Waukegan.

“There is such a thrill to see the ticket sales come through from Virginia, Indiana, Alabama, Georgia, and Michigan,” Mary Beth said when asked about the numbers for the weekend. “We got a better than expected response with about hundred classmates committing with many bringing their spouses or partners. One call I made was to a classmate I hadn’t seen since grade school. He’s coming and I’m so excited! I can’t wait to see him and catch up on what he’s been doing.”

And when it comes down to it, isn’t that what these reunions are all about?

There are many things going on in my life at the moment.

But the all consuming event these days is my 40th class reunion. Some of you are asking, “What, it’s not over with already?” And I would have to say, to my husband in particular, “Sorry honey, the answer is no.”

Who knew that so much would be involved?

First it was getting the date narrowed down. That was done by a survey on Facebook. (Thanks Joe Knobbe!) Then once I volunteered (yes, you read that right) I sought other suckers like myself and built a team. We met, determining what needed to accomplished and in what order.

Then we created more than one event for those who might not be able to make a single event. So Friday night is a Meet & Greet at a sports bar with appetizers, Saturday is a catered picnic at a forest preserve and Sunday is kick back time with a bowling challenge.

The real challenge has been looking for classmates and trying to contact them.

At the time our town had two high schools – East and West. It now only has one. In shouting out on Facebook about a reunion (for East), many from West asked if the reunion was open to them – they never had a reunion in all their 40 years!

Now, we (East) have had a definite 10 year and some small reunions through out the decades. Facebook has been a big help, but the lack of a current mailing or phone list has been the greatest uphill battle we on the team have faced.

The reunion is a few weeks away and there is SO much to do! We are working hard on surprises for those coming. I am thankful to have creative and thoughtful people on my team and two men of spiritual nature to keep us grounded and lifted at the same time.

The anticipation of excited faces, of smiles and laughter for one special weekend is beginning to build in me. To meet new Facebook friends for the first time, and reacquaint with classmates will actually happen soon!

All this would not be possible without the team that volunteered selflessly alongside me.

Cathy Schwab Japuntich                Amy Laube-Fields                Rojelio Daniel

Karen Ekstrand Spaeth                  Tina Elloian                           Jonathan White

and leading us from Atlanta, Tony “the Fonz” Fontana – also known as the Instigator of this reunion.

-mb

One of the things that I have had to deal with while planning this Reunion is not the just the desire for  more time. Two more months, please! It’s been a solitary item – small like a pebble that starts in my chest when I see a classmate’s name and I am reminded that I can no longer call them up to hear their voice or walk around the corner to see their smile. The pebble grows in sorrow and I take myself to a quiet place as soon as I can find one. I need to feel this wave of nostalgia and loss to completion.

There are so many – even while we were in school, we had a few. One day they were sitting in your creative writing class or your biology partner, and the next they weren’t. One weekend you were driving to Wisconsin like everyone else, and you find out on Monday one or two of didn’t make it back alive. Others barely made it.

In a blink of an eye these people had an impact on our lives.

Now I look at the list that grew and acknowledge a dear friend who died in child birth and my neighbor who got involved with the school board and politics and won’t be sharing his sunny disposition with us anymore. I know that the rest of us have the same or similar stories and we will have moments to share stories, lumps in our throats, and tears over the reunion weekend.

Because what’s laughter without a few tears…

Many of you know I’m deeply involved in the planning of my 40th Class Reunion. Yes, I am that old. And I would be remiss if I didn’t share with you one of the most wonderful afternoons I’ve spent in long time. Knowing this is just the tip of the reunion iceberg, I wanted to remind all of us the meaning of ‘reunion’.

On Sunday, I met up with Marty Ress Cornett. She was inarguably one of the most popular girls in our high school class. Cheerleading, Track, Prom and Homecoming Courts, academic accolades were among her accomplishments; she even gave the Salutation speech at Baccalaureate.

But Marty and I never really had much to connect us in high school. It wasn’t until a mutual friend brought her over for a girls’ night in at my house a few years ago did we get the chance to know each other.

We connected.

Sunday we reconnected over her high school treasures she’s willing to share with the Reunion Planning Team. Through conversations about our parents and grandparents, we found connections that were there before us. We connected over parenting in our parents’ time versus our time and the challenges that parents and children face today (and don’t even know it – but we do!).

That is Reunion!

Sure, next month it might be the crackle and anticipation of “who will be there?” but it’s also the excitement of meeting classmates for the first time. Or seeing classmates from grade school as well as high school – I’m talking to you Brian Zalar!

It’s also putting a face with a name, a body and smile with a Facebook friend.

I’m looking forward to meeting everyone at all the events over the Reunion Weekend. And one more shout out – Tom Whipple – we created a Sunday event just for you – get your butt in gear and buy a ticket!

-mb

Usually one’s summer is full of graduations, weddings and vacations. There are lazy days at the beach, nights by a campfire, water gun fights, fireworks and family reunions.

This year for me I find myself in meetings. (Maybe they need to be outdoors in this weather.) I have breakfast meetings before work, dinner meetings after work. When I’m not at the meetings I’m following through on the items discussed in the meetings or developing the agenda for the meeting.

This is where I discovered my writing halted due to the high traffic volume of analytical and procedural thoughts that now occupy my mind. They run on a continuous loop. The only writing getting down these days are press releases – and those I can tell you are no fun. Gone is the fuzziness I felt as a dreamy teen writer when I wanted to be a journalist now that I’ve been writing so many press releases.

Last week I had the chance to visit with one of my biography subjects – Francis S. He is 94 and I have to confess I am a little in love with that man. Maybe it’s the way his blue eyes sparkle as he smiles when he greets me. His story is such an interesting one – rooted so strongly in the settling of Highland Park, IL and his fateful turn to the right down the hallway at the Department of Navy that set him on his course during World War II.

On this visit I met his youngest son and together the three of us revised the biography to their satisfaction. To see Francis happy this project was complete and he could rest his mind was the best feeling for me. His son was like him, good humor, great personality and one to put you at ease at your first meeting. A truly remarkable family.  They were the spark I needed to get back on track.

My meetings won’t slow down this summer. They will start to ramp up in quantity and the events on my calendar draw near. Note to self: planning a class reunion is like planning a wedding and not knowing how many people you’re inviting or how many will come. It’s stress at whole new level. Thank goodness I have a team for this!

“You see, Chief, it seems, under advice of counsel, I am unable to answer your questions at this time.” Dean said, smugness in his voice.

A thin stripe of white foam collected at the corner of the police chief’s flattened lips. The firm line of contempt remained that way for another nanosecond, before the older man straightened to his full height of near six feet as he addressed the entire group.

“A young girl is lying in critical care and all I see before me is a bunch of selfish people. You disgust me.” He turned and stomped back toward the stairs, pausing before his foot descended to the first step. Looking over his shoulder, he added, “Your mother bragged about her brilliant children, all grown up and professional like. It seems to me you all fell quite short of her assessment. Seems your father was right about you kids in the end. You’re all worthless pieces of shit.”

His hollow boot steps echoed in the silence left by his parting words. Their crunching on the gravel drive, like mortar and pestle pulverizing any souls the McElroy offspring were beginning to develop again.

Dean walked to the edge of the porch steps, his line of sight focused on where his father’s friend now stood – the front end of Dean’s car. When the Chief reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a cellphone to snap a picture, Dean’s heart raced inside his ribcage. His throat tightened as if the noose was already there.

What did the Chief find?

If you’ve been following this blog, you know I’ve been part of a highly efficient team of ninja-like classmates who are planning our 40th high school reunion.

One of my tasks was looking into an entertainment option that came across our table. So under the guise of a date night, my husband and I went out to hear a fellow classmate who happens to be an Elvis performer.

My first disclaimer is that I never knew Oscar “Elvis” Wild in high school – we went to separate campuses. You will never – after 40 years – get me to change my habits like say East High School verses West. I will always say, “East Campus and West Campus”, just like I will forever call that corner of Waukegan Lakehurst and not Fountain Square.

Sorry Fountain Square developers – but not really.

My next disclaimer was that  my husband is not a big Elvis fan (I don’t know too many men who are) and I am a warm fan – I have my favorites – about a baker’s dozen. But, we went. and I enjoyed myself a lot. Oscar and his sound man, Doc (a highly interesting man in his own right) are quite the team with Rae the female answer to what is missing in the group – intuition for what is missing or needed.

Elvis handed out silky scarves to all the ladies – even me! My orange scarf is visible in the picture above – and the delivery of this brilliant gift is accompanied with a kiss of course! What else would Elvis do?

My night was soon over, and Elvis had left the building later that night once he had thrilled his adoring fans.

This story is sad and, sorry to say, very true.

I have cousins that should they pass me on the street, I wouldn’t know who they are.

There are two factions of cousins and for two separate reasons, they are lost to our family.

I have wonderful memories of driving to a farm with horses and meeting my older cousins. They were second cousins once removed, I think. Aunt Gladys was my Grandmother’s sister and I always recall leaving tired from the fun I had and sad to leave. Actually it was a very good Catholic family because there were at least seven children in the family and could have been eight in all if my recollections are correct.

One day Aunt Gladie died.

Then Grandma died.

The years between those instances we saw those cousins rarely. The loss of the matriarch started the first loose thread, the unraveling of the tapestry.

The other cousins just never felt comfortable around us. That too was due to a matriarch and patriarchal decision. My first cousins have never been encouraged to interact with us. As children, my uncle (he doesn’t deserve a capital u) would of course come to his children’s defense. But the lack of social skills he bestowed on his children gave them the whininess that left holding us the bag for any perceived infraction and wanting to leave.

You see, we were not prefect, but were happy growing up. We were ‘seen and heard’ children. We were designing our own adventures with our imaginations.

They were ‘seen and not heard’ – and probably not seen at times either. I don’t remember them smiling. While I see us as full of color, they would seen as misted colors – grays and blahs.

When my Uncle Gene died (he did deserve the capital u) this part of the family did not come to the funeral – a cigarette burn to the family tapestry. It’s ugly and noticeable. It’s a blemish that can’t be undone.

The burn stops the unraveling: it cauterizes the wound. Some parts of the picture is still missing, but there is hope in restoration. Today I’ll try to search for my cousin Gayle…. one of the cousins from the farm.

So this morning as I was sipping my morning coffee and reading my overnight emails, one that caught my eye was about an NYT bestselling author telling me that her novel has a new title – same sexy characters!

What happened?

Well, it seems as she writing, the character’s goal (different from the beginning) came through loud and clear to her as she was writing and she realized she needed to change the plot a bit. And it seemed the title.

It got me thinking. When I started writing this latest manuscript, I had an ending in mind, but when I wrote just one line, I set something else underlying in motion. My early preconceived ending went out the proverbial window.

My main character just wants to finish this last task for her deceased client in this suspense. Surrounded by the heirs, she suddenly realizes how alone she’s been. She yearns to be a part of a family like this one – she’s been handing over their mother’s memories to them and observing the dynamics as they try to patch themselves together.  Someone is more than ready to take away everything from her because he feels she wronged him. Now her goal is to stay alive.

It happened when I wrote one scene – just to get my characters away from the lake house and I unintentionally placed the collected group in the viper’s nest – by it wasn’t until I had them walking in the door did I realize what danger I placed a couple of characters in.

The manuscript is still in revision. I climbed into so many heads – sad, hurt, dark and disturbed heads with this book. As a writer, you have to know what your character wants, where they came from, what drives them and you have to listen. Whether they get what they want or not tells you what’s going to happen. Yes, I am the boss of my stories, but a good boss listens.

And with the stroke of a pen or keyboard, makes the final decision…

I belong to an online neighborhood group and everyday I receive notices like ‘firewood for pick up’, ‘lost cat’, and ‘looking for walking buddies’.

A couple weeks ago, there was the request for people interested in having a Chinese face reading. I jumped at the chance – and here was my reasoning:

It would be a new experience and I would have material to go into a book somewhere. I was already picturing a petite ancient Chinese woman putting her arthritic hands all over my face to tell me about myself. How delightful!

Except my old Chinese lady turned out to be a vivacious Jewish woman from the East Coast.

Now before you deflate, let me tell you she takes her studies very serious, her holistic lifestyle and her artistic and creative life is amazing.

After she asked my date of birth and asked a few questions, she proceeded to read my face  – I won’t divulge her secrets here, but at the end of the two hours, even after she peeled away my several layers, she still was open to doing something social with me. See, she’s amazing!

It was a trait she said I had – that I made friends easily. Like the woman at the laundromat I see every week and still need to have coffee with, and Joy that works Tuesdays at the office, but we are trying to see ‘Spamilton’ (Our schedules never seem to agree with ticket availability).

My face reader and I had our first outing Saturday – a trip to the glass making place – Patterson Glass in Mundelein. We made glass pendants and she made a glass flower of many colors. It was a brief afternoon spent with her, but I look forward to more – we are going to try painting together.

Being open to a new and wonderful experience gave me a new friend.

Earlier that day I spent the morning with a writer friend soaking in the sunshine as we put miles between home and the Ela Area Public Library for a writers’ workshop. This writer friend and I don’t get the chance to do things socially and it was utterly delightful! We giggled, opened up about our lives (mostly our families – how “we put the fun in dysfunctional” – that’s my family motto) and what we were working on. It was a day that I shall cherish.

I am loving every minute of my life – new experiences and new friends.