When I think of the time I had this past weekend, I have to think of the recent Master Card commercials. Hotel: $68.00; Dinner and drinks on Friday night: $35.00; the party on Saturday night: $35.00; reuniting with my classmates of the Edison High School graduating class of 1983 for a weekend: PRICELESS!

Whomever thought of that particular advertising idea was a genius. There are some things on which you cannot place a price. When I saw that this year was quickly approaching its conclusion, I once again, found myself disappointed that I would not be able to attend a class reunion. Why? Because I was one of the few on the "missing list" of graduates---somehow lost in an abyss of curiosity and wonder. But the very next week, I was talking to my brother and he informed me that he had seen one of our favorite classmates: Jackie Kirch (Atkinson), who told him that the 1983 Class of Edison High School was having their reunion on October 24, 1998. Since I missed the 10-year because of my temporary "falling off the face of the earth," my heart beat strongly with anticipation and excitement when I heard his words, knowing that I would soon see the people who so profoundly impacted my character.

During the ensuing weeks, messages and phone calls were made---so many that I think that none of the people involved completed their job assignments from pecking away at their computer terminals with fervent anticipation of the coming get-together. The e-mails continued to flow as classmates corresponded over the networks---still in great anticipation of a wonderful weekend.

My thoughts then grew to the party on Saturday night. A scheduled 4-hour gig devoted to re-living the "old days" with people I have known for years (some since I was eight years old). Four hours? For most of my classmates at Edison, I haven't seen these people in at least, ten years, and for some it has been fifteen; and for others I never truly "saw" when I was there (I learned that fact this weekend). There was no way to encapsulate 15 years of absence into 4 hours of mingling and exchanging photos and pleasantries to some 100 people. An entire weekend was the only reasonable answer. A pre-reunion tip-off at Damon's (courtesy of Jackie and everyone else who passed along the message) where some 50-60 people showed and started what I truly believe was one of the best weekends I have ever experienced. The "Class of '83" surely made its mark on Damon's---especially that young waitress we ran so ragged and confused, she couldn't even get the beer orders correct. Everyone hugged and socialized---trying to catch up on whatever had been happening in each other's lives since they had seen each other. For some, it had only been months, but for me, it had been years. With the exception of only a few, everyone looked the same---conforming to today's styles of hair and clothing---but some looked noticeably better. Age and in some cases, weight had been added, but for the most, the two made their presence known only as a number.

The "happy hour" turned into a full-fledged party in some respects, and most of the attendees stayed until the "witching hour." Ironically, the same weekend was "Homecoming" for Edison and we also planned to attend the football game Saturday afternoon. To my disappointment, not many showed to watch some of the former players don their uniforms of the past, and set-off an explosion of fond memories ignited by the site of the place where we all grew up: Thomas A. Edison High School. Myself and Chip Gregory, who by the way, along with others, will be a lifelong friend: no matter what, breached the entrance of the school where we did so many things, accomplished so many tasks, padded so many footsteps, and took in that familiar "smell" of the school---setting off another series of vivid images of yesteryear. We felt like that we had entered the "Twilight Zone" and been transported back 15 years, and actually I closed my eyes, taking a breath, and opened them again, seeing all of us opening our lockers in between classes, necking with our girlfriends (Remember the "no-petting rule") and the football players hanging out near the heater downstairs. I was 18 again.

We walked into the gym---still the same, but painted differently---and then into the locker room where another whiff of a memory-stimulating odor filled my nose, again of images of athletic competition from another time. Chip and I took the same path that led to the field---one we took so many times during our football careers at Edison, and I remembered coming out of the locker room door the night of our Junior year when we played Lake Braddock---there had to be a million people there, it seemed---and hearing that crowd of "Edison Rowdies" roar for their team. I looked at all the faces of the students---they all looked so young---and I wondered if we looked that young in our time. The band began to play the Edison fight song, and Chip and I sang along pumping our hands in the air, yelling "Onward Eagles, Onward Eagles" It was a truly remarkable day as the sun beat down on the home crowd, causing everyone to shade their eyes to see the game (and the cheerleaders). Edison ran all over the W&L Generals posting an apparently rare victory this year with a score of 33-18. We sang the fight song again, and even chanted old cheers led by Adam Standfield, with the help of others. Chip wrote a small announcement for the press box and the "Class of 1983" was recognized over the PA system. I think the crowd of fans thought we had to be alumni, because "regular" people didn't just act that crazy during the game. Despite the dubious smiles and shaking heads from the others, the suspicious looks from Fairfax County's men in blue (gray), the 1983 members enjoyed themselves immensely.

And for those who did not attend, and who left before the game was concluded, the former players put on a respectable demonstration of their football playing skills (for their age) culminated by Mike Mason booting an field goal through the goal posts (something Edison's current kicker could not achieve) while still wearing dress clothes and shoes. Quite a feat.

With the game over, a few hours remained before the "big party" but for me, it was a continuation of a weekend-long party that I really did not want to end. The place at Manchester Lakes was the perfect setting for a casual affair, and when I arrived, I saw faces I had not seen in a long time---attached to their bodies, name badges saying "Hello, I'm ________. The beautification of age and experience was evident on everyone there, and I was proud to have been a part of all of their lives.

The mingling began, at first, with some anxiety attributed to the failure to remember names with faces, and in some cases, faces with names---sending people scurrying to one of the yearbooks to find the person they may or may not have remembered. As the feelings of worry subsided parallel to the increase in flow of the alcohol, the excitement level of the attendees rose like a thermometer on a hot summer day. The delicious food was served, and we ate (in my case, 2 plates) until we were all satisfied, talking and hugging in between bites.

The music started to pick-up and soon, as always, the ladies started dancing, trying to coax their dates to join in on the fun. Unlike the days of high school, most of the men joined without complaint or embarrassment making the reunion turn into an "actual" party. As instructed, the DJ played the tunes we all grew to love during our years at Edison, and some into our college and adult years. But, we only left the dance floor when we were tired or in need of a drink. The mood was entirely festive and from the look on people's faces, it was like we had never been apart from each other. As the party continued, I must have seen a thousand flashes from cameras, and hundred poses from people standing arm-in-arm, smiling graciously.

As the eleventh hour approached, the crowd dwindled very little, and I grew concerned that this wonderful weekend was going to end. "Nonsense!" I exclaimed, "let's go dancing somewhere else." It appeared that at 11:01, one of the neighbors called the police, bringing a expeditious conclusion to the party at Manchester Lakes. People hugged again, undoubtedly making promises (some sincere, some probably not) to "keep in touch" more. Some hung on for as long as they could, saying "good-bye" to everyone they wanted to, and some jumped in their cars, enroute to the dance club at Blackies.

About 25 people gathered at the club to do some more dancing and drinking, but to our disappointment, the place was closing soon after our arrival. Off to our hotel room at the Days Inn across the street, where after being warned by the security guard of his imminent call to the police about our boisterous behavior, we crammed ourselves into the double room and finished all the alcohol leftover from the party. With no music, there was nothing else to do but talk and share stories, old and new, all the while laughing about teachers and other classmates and generally rejuvenating a bond that was created some 19 or 20 years ago and sealed again that wonderful weekend in October 1998.

"Priceless" is a term that accurately describes my opinion of the past weekend. I wouldn't have missed it for anything. My only disappointment, if any, was the fact that all 350 or so people could or would not attend. My only statement to them is: "You missed one helluva weekend, and I hope to see you at the 20th if not before." I left Northern Virginia enroute back to North Carolina with a feeling of fulfillment that I was a part of something special---something that is truly extraordinary in modern times. That is a high school graduating class that was so close in school and has the potential to be that much closer as adults. I made my best friends during that time, and the people whom that describes know who they are. But what was even more satisfying was that I got to know some of the people I, for whatever reason, failed to know in high school. The bonds that we created are lifelong ones---ones that are very hard to sever, and being together with all of you has brought back tons of vivid and wonderful memories of a time where we all, in essence, became who we are today, and who we will be tomorrow. Let's not make all the promises of "getting together more frequently" disappear like a mist evaporating over a stream. We have to realize that the friendships made during this period of adolescence are ones that last forever.

Sincerely,

Jeff Pate
Class of 1983 Edison High School