Thanks to Facebook, I've established contact with several people from my distant past. One of those stepped right out of the 1950's, bringing with her a flood of memories from a wonderful time of my life.
The Percells attended church with us at Eagleville, Missouri. Marla was my age, Judy was younger. They had an older brother named Gordon, but I didn't have much to do with him. The only thing I recall about him is that he used to chase all the girls around in the parking lot at church on Sunday nights to stick Junebugs down the necks of our blouses or dresses. Ewww.
I remember their dad, Austin, patiently grabbing an arm and a leg of each of us kids in turn and swinging us around until we were dizzy... or maybe he swung us around by both arms; all I remember is how much fun it was being dizzy. I remember their mom, Lois, singing and playing guitar. I remember her teaching my class in Bible School and Sunday School. Only I don't think we called it Sunday School, we only called it "class".
The fiftieth class reunion of the Eagleville graduating class of 1962 is meeting this weekend. Marla invited me some time back, but I declined. After all, I was in the sixth grade when my parents and I moved to Kansas City; I graduated from North Kansas City High School.
I remember several names and faces from my time at North Harrison school, but I'm fairly certain none of those kids remember me.
So yesterday Marla suggested Cliff and I ride up on the motorcycle. That, of course, puts a different light on things, because that means it's all about the ride. If nobody but Marla remembers me, big deal. At least we had a good ride, although Highway 13 is so familiar that it won't be a very interesting ride. Oh well, I wouldn't mind meeting up with Marla for a little while.
A few minutes ago I got to thinking back, and I realized that when I attended school at Eagleville, Marla wasn't in my class. Just when did her family move there? It must have been after I was gone, because I only remember her from church.
My time living in Eagleville must have been one of the happiest times of my childhood, because I remember so many details about the time spent there. All the memories are good ones. Perhaps the fact that I had so many relatives close at hand had something to do with it.
I can't possibly think any of 1962 graduates will remember me. I've never been one to forge close friendships. The people I remember best probably won't be there. But as I said, it's all about the ride.