We moved to Houston in 1997. It was a big move and involved uprooting the kids from their schools and transplanting them in new schools. It involved buying a new house and starting new jobs. Really, it was something people do all the time but it was sill an adventure.
Little did I know that another family had done the same thing only a few months earlier. More about that later.
So, fast forward a few years and I find myself a frequent flyer. Not by choice, I assure you! But, there I am flying from Houston to the mid-west every few weeks.
Looking down as our jet glided into Bush International Airport I saw the lake and houses, lights, cars and occasionally people. I often wondered who they were and what they did.
Wonder no more, at least for one family.
This week I had lunch with a classmate of mine whom I haven't seen for 43 years. Check out the Second Grade phot on this site. The guy on the left, saluting, is Dean, and the guy on the far right is me.
Yes, we found each other through this website after 43 years and had a wonderful lunch together just last week. Dean had grown considerably and given up his saluting habit, whereas I had grown a beard. However, we recognized each other and spent a few hours catching up on old and new times.
There is a connection between people that is established in grade school and in high school. Most reunions are from high school but I felt the same sort of connection and commonality with Dean as I had in meeting high school mates years later.
It's something about spending formative years with these people that creates an indellible bond.
I'm not complaining, just observing.
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