Fortuitous Blessings
I graduated from a small high school in Ohio. Although I only attended school with these classmates for two years, I go back faithfully to the tiny town every five years for the class reunion. I’ve only missed one, our 30th, as it was so poorly attended I did not feel it was worth the money to make the trip from New Jersey.
Last October, I contacted a few people I am still in touch with to find out what was happening with the upcoming 35th reunion. No one knew, and no one volunteered to take charge of it. The same people have been instrumental in running it for years, and they were tired of doing all of the work. I didn’t blame them.
I felt frustrated, however, as friends were already asking me about my summer plans and I felt hesitant to commit to anything because I wanted to make sure I was available for my reunion. The problem with our last reunion was that plans were made too close to the date, so most classmates could not attend. I didn’t want that to happen for our 35th.
It had been 10 years since I’d seen my Ohio classmates, and I wanted the opportunity to visit with them in person. So, instead of staying angry that no one was making plans, I began to make them, myself.
I contacted potential venues, got pricing, surveyed people about the best dates, and started a Facebook Group Page. My friend sent me the outdated class list and I began contacting people by email and searching them out on FB and other social media, asking them to join the site. People were encouraged to give opinions and have input into the planning process, so that we would get maximum turn-out.
Due to monetary concerns, we decided to have it at the same site we’d held it for many previous years — at the local bowling alley owned by the king and queen of our Prom. We got the only Italian restaurant in town to cater it. Although they refused to deal with me via the Internet, (you can’t trust those pesky New Jerseyans), I had a local resident friend physically visit the restaurant to make arrangements.
A committee of four consulted about all issues. Thereafter, I posted the decisions on our class website. I drew up copies of the invitation and sent them snailmail to anyone we weren’t already in contact with. For those on FB, we gave them a downloadable copy. Each time a classmate committed to attending, I scanned their high school picture, posted it on the site, and made a (somewhat) witty announcement.
At the time of deadline, only 12 classmates had confirmed, out of our small class of 79. I was so disappointed, after all our work to build relationships and encourage people to come.
Instead of accepting defeat, however, we decided to outwit it. We extended the deadline by two weeks, upped our marketing techniques, and that, for some reason, did the trick. I spent hours on the website, searching for just the right quote to post, and just the right words to increase attendance. A few people from out-of-state decided to make the trip, and this, in turn, encouraged local people to make the effort.
Luckily, it worked! 37 people (more than 1/3 of our class) attended the reunion, making it a rousing success. We gathered at a local winery on Friday night to reconnect, then spent all evening Saturday at the bowling alley. We held a class meeting, viewed a slideshow, gave away raffle prizes, held a 50/50, ate delicious food, and of course, bowled!
Just as I had hoped, the pricey trip to the middle-of-nowhere was well-worth the expense. People had a marvelous time and many remarked that it was our best reunion ever.
I tell you this story not to brag, but to convey a message. You see, since I retired (early), I have not utilized many of the skills I used on a daily basis while teaching. My organizational skills, creative side, planning techniques and people skills have been lying fairly dormant. And for a time, I’d felt as if my purpose was gone. Like my best years were behind me.
Planning the reunion was almost an absent-minded decision. I began investigating merely because I know most of my classmates work, while I have my days to myself. One thing led to another, and before I knew it, I was in charge. I worked well with the rest of the planning committee, so the few glitches that did come up (as they say, “no good deed goes unpunished)”, were resolved with faith and confidence. I knew I had their full support.
In reaching out to do for others, I inadvertently succeeded in helping myself. My successes in planning this event over the course of 8 months were unexpected, but very much needed.
I’d regained certainty in my ability to plan large events. I’d created a communication space where the social atmosphere remains positive and collegial. I’d learned how to navigate and administer a FB group. I’d gotten old friends back in touch with each other, feeling nostalgic and looking forward to our next event. My mojo was back!
Of course, I’ve now been “nominated” to plan the next reunion. We’ve decided to make it a destination one. I really don’t mind, as the hard work over the past year has laid the groundwork for future planners to have an easier time of it. We just have to find a good place to commune.
Be that as it may, could it really be our 40th in 2021? Nah… we just graduated in ’81!
Day 15
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