My "Toast to the Fowlerville Class of 1969" had two endings

Alternative one, not used, offered in this essay

An essay, wrote Gore Vidal in the Preface of his 1990 collection At Home, derives from the French word ‘essai’, meaning “an attempt,” It is “simply that,” said Vidal, “an attempt to order one’s impressions and reflections on a given subject.”

Easier said than done. Though not always…sometimes the pieces of thought fall together in a coherent form without too much struggle.

Such ease was not the case when I attempted to write a ‘Toast’ for my Fowlerville High Class of 1969 on the occasion of our 55^th reunion'; a speech that was to be given at the annual alumni banquet. Actually, it was the planned ending (which was tied to the beginning) that proved to be a challenging. I wanted to suggest a final act of sorts for ‘we’ aging baby boomers, giving it a touch of noble cause, and what I was coming up with didn’t seem quite right.

On the other hand, the middle part was a piece of cake, writing-wise. In this section of the speech, I embarked on a trip down memory lane, citing some shared touchstones like watching the Mickey Mouse Club on TV when we were youngsters, taking square dance lessons at the Community Center, listening to the Beach Boys and the Beatles, going on dates to the drive-in theater (and one time even watching the movie), drinking a cherry Coke at the Downtown soda fountains then in existence, and attending the Fowlerville Fair though the years—from childhood rides of the Ferris Wheel to 4-H to our turn at operating the Junior Stand.

I noted the extracurricular activities available to us while in high school such as sports and going to games, along with clubs like Future Farmers of America. I also listed several of the more noteworthy teachers we had in elementary, junior high, and then high school.

Not wishing to make the reminiscence too frothy, I pointed out that “The 800-pound gorilla in the room during our later school years was the Vietnam War,” adding “Older classmates had been drafted or volunteered and sent off to that battlefield. This possibility loomed for some of the young men in our class as well.”

This part of my speech then moved on to what happened after graduation—initially, military service, heading off to college, marriage for a few early birds, and fulltime work. Afterwards, I pointed out, “Members of the class went on to become nurses, teachers, insurance agents, civil servants, farmers, factory workers, retail clerks, business owners, harness racehorse trainers, car salesmen, homemakers, and office workers.”

Along with other professions and pursuits.

“Most of us married and had children and now have grandchildren or even great grandchildren that we dote on,” I said, adding that “As is the pattern of life, we’ve lost a number of classmates along the way—quite a few in recent years. We mourn their loss and miss them dearly.

“I trust that most of my classmates have had rewarding lives, although heartaches have been part of the mix for some,” I went on. “Lives centered on family, work, friendships, for some church, and leisurely activities.

“So here we are—those of use still around...55 years later. A lot of water over the dam, each of us with a longer past to recall than future to contemplate.”

I concluded the speech by wishing my classmates the “best going forward.”

But this ending was Option #1—a choice I’m glad I took.

The second option was the part I struggled with, rewrote several times, and finally decided to not use. I came to this decision as I sat at our table and observed the people at the banquet laughing and enjoying each other’s company; the mood light-hearted, even frothy. I felt my alternative ending would have been, for lack of a better description, too ‘heavy’ for the occasion and certainly too self-absorbed.

Neither of which precludes it being included in a written essay.

 As I mentioned, the ending was tied to the opening paragraphs. Which I did use to start my ‘Toast.’ It went. . .

Regrets, I’ve had a few. But then again too few to mention.

“Many of you will recognize this lyric from the Sinatra song ‘My Way’, a reflective piece of music about looking back at one’s past. But regret is not what you usually bring to a class reunion or alumni banquet, brooding on the missteps of life or pondering in a melancholy manner ‘what might have been.’ It’s more about enjoying those “misty colored memories of the way we were.” Remembering the laughter and joys of those yesteryears.

“It’s a chance to reflect on the lessons learned long ago in the classrooms and playing field, the friendships that were forged, and the myriad of experiences  that helped make us who we were back then, what we became, and what we now are.”

With this start in mind, here is the alternative ending. . .

But while class reunions and alumni banquets are mainly about remembering as well as celebrating our shared past, and properly so, it is the future—what’s left of it anyway for those of us of a certain age—that I’ll speak of with these closing thoughts.

There are two lines those who attended Fowlerville Schools are quite familiar with. They come from the school song.

Gold stands for hearts so true. Well, we all hope we have one of those.

Purple means courage to do.

Ah, yes, “to do” As in “to take action, be active, and remain engaged.”

Not necessary undertaking a grand adventure or risky endeavor, although if something of this nature is on your bucket list, more power to you.

Rather it’s an urging—aimed as much at yours truly as anyone here tonight—to continue to continue. To stay in the arena. To do what we can, as best we can, with whatever portion of life is left us, to make this world a better, more compassionate and caring place.

To do so with whatever measure of effort we can, with whatever energy remains or can be mustered, on behalf of our family, our neighborhood, and those who will follow us.

To use our experience and whatever wisdom the passing years may have bestowed upon us, guided by whatever star illuminates our purpose and faith, in pursuit of this goal. “To strive with a will,” just as we once did in school days long ago when we did it “for dear old Fowlerville.”

Perhaps if we do this, then when we look back, the regrets will remain few and it’ll be the laughter shared with family and friends and the joys of accomplishment that we will remember, whenever we remember, the way we were.

Steve Horton is a mid-Michigan journalist, owner-publisher of the ‘Fowlerville News & Views’—a weekly newspaper, and alumnus of Fowlerville High School.