Reunited… and It Felt So Good — 50 Years Later

GPS called it an 8.5-hour drive. It took just over ten.
Nevertheless, I made it.

Where, you ask?

My 50th high school reunion.
Class of ’76—the Bicentennial class.

It feels like yesterday… and like everyone else, I’m asking the same question:
Where did the time go?

Yesterday I was eighteen.
Today, my kids’ kids have kids.

We’re doing the traditional reunion weekend—Friday night mixer at the local watering hole down by the river, a somewhat formal dinner and dance Saturday evening, and a farewell picnic on Sunday before we all head back home, each of us saying the same thing: Boy, that was a quick weekend.

I checked into the hotel around 3 p.m., and as soon as I gave my name at the front desk, I heard:

“Hey Wayne—it’s Steve.”

Standing right there next to me were Steve and Denise—high school sweethearts… still together.

It’s springtime in Florida, and here on the Space Coast it’s sunny, a perfect 72 degrees, and—believe it or not—zero humidity.

I’ve done enough driving today, so I’m leaving the car at the hotel and grabbing an Uber over to Squid Lips.

I come here often. Our two boys and five grandkids live here, so I make the trip two or three times a year.

Most visits are all about family—busy, full, and gone before I can catch my breath. Not much time to just decompress and enjoy where I am.

This weekend is different.

I’m traveling alone… and playing it by ear.

Wonderful evening.

So many old friends… so many surprises.

Even the drummer in the bar band turned out to be an old classmate.

Saturday morning… time for breakfast.

And when you’re in Eau Gallie, there’s really only one place to go—
That Little Restaurant.

A tradition for over 30 years.

Well, the dinner and dance came and went in a flash.

But the most striking moment of the evening was the memorial video.

We’ve lost 75 classmates over the past 50 years.

Some of the names caught me off guard—I had no idea. You could hear it in the room… the quiet gasps, the sudden stillness, the tears. Darrell, who gave the presentation, was visibly shaken as he began.

Nearly one-fifth of our class… gone.

And the truth is, we’ll lose more as time goes by. At some point, we’ll all be gone.

But until then, I’ll cherish the time we had… and the time we still have.

On a lighter note, we crowned our reunion King and Queen—and honestly, I think it was unanimous. Yep, you guessed it—the same high school sweethearts I saw at check-in.

It’s Sunday morning… time to head into town for breakfast with a very dear friend and his wife.

I don’t know when we’ll see each other again, so I try to grab these moments whenever I can.

Last night, I stayed pretty reserved. I’m left-handed and have two left feet, so I leave the dance floor to others. But I had some great conversations. Like I told a friend—I’m more of an observer these days.

We’ve got the picnic this afternoon… and then we all head back to our day-to-day lives.

And who knows how many of us will be here for the 60th.

Whenever you come back home, it’s almost expected—you go visit your old haunts.

Some classmates took a tour of our old high school. The phrase “this ain’t your parents’ old school” never rang more true. The campus has expanded dramatically over the past 50 years.

Back when I was there, the aeronautics program had an old Taylorcraft L-1—radial engine, fabric wings, something straight out of World War I. The year I took the class, we were rebuilding wing spars.

Today… they have a full Learjet sitting on campus.

My, how times have changed.

Growing up on the Space Coast, we had the rare privilege of watching rocket launches from Kennedy Space Center. And as luck—or maybe providence—would have it, I got to see a Falcon 9 take to the skies today.

I could still count to thirty after liftoff and then watch it rise into view.

It never gets old.

It’s a wondrous sight.

Time to head to the picnic… and grab some barbecue.
Who can say no to barbecue? Not me.

And just like that, the weekend is over.

But what an amazing time. Not adrenaline-pumping… just heartwarming—to see so many old and dear friends once again.

I’m Wayne—and that was my weekend.
How was yours?