On Seeing My Reflection In Your Face
by Steve Berger

xxxxDo you do it too? You know, when you talk about the evening of March 6, 1999 with friends and colleagues who didn't go to JB, you just refer to it as a school reunion, not a Junior High School Reunion. That's unheard of, especially when it's the 37th anniversary of your graduation.

xxxxShould there be another word for it? Something larger than Reunion - which, as often as not, is the place people go to show off car keys and expensive suits. This thing we did, it was much more. It was like returning to the village where you were raised to visit with spirits from your past. Your peers. Those who, without knowing it, forcing it or even desiring it, helped mold you.

xxxxAnd voila, except for a couple more pounds, a few less hairs and the gray we could never have imagined, they were all there, well, nearly everyone. Dozens of "kids" whose spirits sat in stasis for nearly four decades, alive and well, and looking surprisingly the same.

And more astounding was the remembering, smiling, hugging and being essentially the people, classmates and above all, friends with whom we probably did more growing in three years than in any other triad of time in our lives. Perhaps I shouldn't be so amazed. At least in part, we were the impetus for the 60s and 70s, the leaders of the 80s and 90s, and we will undoubtedly be the driving force for the next century. We were born at a unique time in history, and we grew up with privileges, understanding, compassion and support which never existed before, and sadly, may never exist in the quantity and quality we enjoyed. Fortunately, we were also imbued with a strong sense duty, service and loyalty which binds us together over the years, miles and obstacles that would separate us.

xxxxLeaving L.A. on the afternoon of March 7, I was filled with a warmth and joy that can last a lifetime. Even better, I don't have to rely on the memories of that thing we did on our 37th junior high school graduation anniversary, for there is this book with addresses and phone numbers to span the years and the distance, and, I purloined a little piece of every spirit I saw.

From college to the record business and advertising, Steve evolved into a freelance writer and applies his craft to magazine articles, a newspaper column, advetorials, and collateral materials..He moved to Colorado in 1974 and lives in the foothills with his wife Jan.

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