In my previous newsletter I suggested I might travel to my third-and-final 50th high school class reunion. It did happen. Last week I traveled to Mt. Clemens, Michigan to be with “kids” who attended 5th through 10th grade with me in the late 1960s and early ‘70s. (I transferred to a high school in So Cal midway through my Sophomore year.)

It was a marvelous reunion evening that allowed me to process four key thoughts:

1. Being friends from childhood really does have some great advantages.
2. Walking one’s old neighborhood can surface some amazing dormant memories and remind you of who you were back then … and may still be!
3. Talking with junior high and senior high friends, who knew you well, may help remind you of gifts inside you, long forgotten.
4. Old friends remind us that we were once liked “just because”… without any pretenses.

I’ll fill you in on the specifics of those four points in just a minute, but first I have a few quick questions.

What made you smile in 4th or 5th grade? How did those years impact you? If you played a sport, what position did you play? Bobb Biehl, noted business coach and co-founding board member of Focus on the Family states that “What a kid believes about themselves in the fourth/fifth grade leaves a lasting memory—one that will form a long-term belief about how they see themselves.” Think back to 4th or 5th grade; can you recall what YOU wanted to be in the future? Let me know, I’d love to hear!

Being friends from childhood into my age now really gave me a great advantage in life.

From 5th grade on, I made friends quickly, as military brats are prone to do. I also got jobs – first as a newspaper boy, then as a “bagger” at the commissary of the local Air Force base, and finally as a movie theater usher. (Yep, that was a real job! Ha.) These friends were part of my life for five very formative years. Mike O’Donnell, Vicki Schatt, Byron Sigel, Karin Davidson, Kathy Ransom, Cindi Mangan, Reggie Brownlee, Chris Zaffarono and so many more.

My advantage? I gained early confidence, organically, in who I was, because of these dear friendships. They loved me and I loved them, year after year. Meeting them at the 50th class reunion was just a simple extension of all those earlier years.

Walking one’s old neighborhood can surface some fascinating memories.

I parked my rental car in front of my childhood home and spent the whole day walking the neighborhood of my youth. The houses were all in good repair and the yards were generally well kept. Many of these homes had been built in the late 1800s.

It was fascinating to walk in my old neighborhood, as an adult, with the mindset of a 10-16 year old, without a drivers license. In a sense, walking forced me to see, smell, and touch things that an adolescent would experience. In fact, I remember walking down my old street in 1968 and hearing the news that RFK’s run for the Presidency had just violently ended. Oddly enough, I was walking on that same stretch of sidewalk when I learned that RFK Jr.’s run for Presidency had also ended (thankfully, not violently). Wild!

I walked to the neighborhood school I attended. Built in 1909, Abraham Lincoln School was a warm and inviting place of education that I loved. I flourished there. Now it is a church!

I walked down Welts Street and saw all the cross-avenue names where, as a boy I delivered copies of The Detroit News—my first job. Memories of the bitter-cold mornings captured my mind but more so, the weekly paydays to buy candy at Norwood Sundries!

As I walked, I saw childhood friends’ homes and thought, “Oh yeah, Mark lived there, Ernie lived over there, Cloyd Coy lived at the end of the other street and died in 6th grade because of a blotched tonsillectomy.” Strange thoughts from a time period where all I ever did was walk or ride my 3-speed bike. I kept walking and realized that the topographical limits of my childhood adventures were determined by how far I could walk (or bike) and still return home by dinner time. They were defined by my paper route. I KNEW those streets. For example, Canfield St. was the farthest street out, bordered on the other side by an immense wide-open natural area for deer and other Michigan animals. It was where the wild-things lived! It was therefore my edge of the world.

At our high school reunion, talking with old friends, who really knew me back then, gave me pause to consider character traits I’d forgotten about myself.

During the last year of junior high school I blew out my left knee in a sports accident and had surgery to repair it. It was a very painful experience and left me cautious, especially when it came to types of sports in which to participate, for the remainder of high school and college.

Ahh, but at the reunion, I was reminded by Reggie Brownlee of my love for playing football, in the years prior to my accident. “You were the best defensive back I ever saw,” he said. “You were so wild and such a daredevil, doing crazy stuff on defense that no one else would do! And you’d succeed!”

I smiled, remembering how I really loved playing football… but not in high school, not at West Point, just ALL the years prior - with my young friends. It was a lovely remembrance, thanks to Reggie. Many other memories surfaced like that too!

One in particular was my rock band. Three of us from the band attended the reunion. Our image from the early 1970’s met us in this looped video:

Then and Now:

Oh my, the stories we told each other about how GREAT our band was and the gigs we played, had us all in stitches! We laughed till we were in tears. Such fun memories. Thanks friends for helping me remember who I am.

Old friends remind us that we were liked “just because”… without any need to impress others.

The house we lived in from 5th grade on was old but comfy – nothing like the regulation base housing that had become our norm, as dad progressed in rank. The civilian neighborhood in Michigan was just simple and old.

Kids didn’t care where I lived. They’d just rode their bikes up to the house and dropped them on my driveway. Then, they’d run up to the porch and in a sing-song way shout “Den-nis, Den-nis” anticipating someone inside would hear the loud voices and come to the door. We didn't ring doorbells, and we didn't knock on doors. Just loud-mouthed kids, ready for adventure.

We hung out with each other, “just because”. There was no advantage to being a “cool kid” nor any benefit obtained by being around a cool kid.

In retrospect, as I return from this third, 50-year-reunion at Mt. Clemens, Michigan, and back to the life Susan and I have led for years, I’ve realized a few things. First, recapturing childhood friendships gave me a chance to pause and rethink how important these friendships were to my development. Also, walking my old neighborhood and re-capturing memories was eye-opening, helping me see where I had come from - and how I’d come to be where I am today. And finally, my old friends remind me of my true character and that being my true self “just because”… is best of all.

More later,

Den

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Den's Latest & Greatest

• Take time to rummage through your old pics. Look at the kids you knew. Look at yourself. Smile and be thankful for that version of you. You are who you are because of that youthful version.
• ​Watch this video of Dear Younger Me and embrace the lyrics.
• Reconnect with old childhood friends via social media. Tell them thanks for their impact on you and your family.

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