East Side Pride

 

 Give a Song, Give a Yell

Give a Cheer

We will stand by East Central Forever

Loyal and true to our School

Whether we are far or near

Rah Rah

Our teams and our clubs we hold dear

May our strength and our courage never weaken

Our banners so high that we wave

It is our luck, It is our pluck

To reach Our victory!

Go! Fight! Win!

Or something like that.  I tried to look up the actual words to the ECHS fight song but I got lost in all the bad publicity of the school.  Coaches who money launder, coaches with DUI's, shootings, poor ratings -- not fun things to read about.  So, I went from memory. 

This past weekend was my 20th reunion and I debated about returning for it.  It worked out to travel this week to both Oklahoma and Nebraska for Kenny's 20th so we went through with it.  Now, Reunion #1 is done.  I had crazy nerves for this weekend.  Friday was bar night so I met friends downtown for a pre-dinner and some courage.  It must have worked because when we joined our class, or the handful who came out for the first night, we had a great time.  It was fun to be an ECHS cardinal for the night.

My one goal was to NOT ask anyone, "so what do you do?"  Do you know how hard that is?  But, I really don't want anyone asking me what I do because I really don't have a solid answer for it, so I figure maybe there are others out there who would prefer not to as well.  So, for the pure challenge of it, I strayed away from the obvious question and instead focused on, "so are you still living here?"  And that opens up all kinds of doors, or so I thought.  What I found out was that many of my old classmates are still here in the area, sort of.  No one stayed in Tulsa proper; they all fled to the outskirts, like my parents.  This of course brought on all kinds of descriptions about where we used to live and how run down it is now, and how dangerous it is now, and how bad things are. And then that just makes me depressed.  No one wants to see their neighborhood overrun by people who don't care about it or each other because that's not how I grew up.  In my memory, our childhood was pretty idyllic.  And anyone else who grew up on my street would say the same.  We certainly didn't have mansions or fancy cars, but it was safe.  We ran the streets, we rode bikes to the neighborhood pool, God forbid without a parent, and I remember some days walking home from school.  But, I guess that's the way it goes. 

I didn't mean to march down memory lane, but it's kind of the order of the day when you see people you haven't seen in 20 years.  And that's what I was looking for in this trip back.  I wanted someone who I haven't seen in years to have a memory about me, about us. Something good.  And it happened. 

Lisa remembered that we buried a treasure box in her back yard and so many other things.

Nicole remembered that she and I read my mom's harlequin book one day and took turns reading the dirty parts. (sorry mom, it's true.)

Kris remembered that he used ride to my house on his bike and knock on my window until I came outside.

LeeAnn remembered my old, wholy blanket and that I sucked my thumb.

Alexis remembered that I could never french-braid my hair the right way, always inside out.

Shannon remembered the movie line we memorized. 

And because I love to live in the past (which is why I'm not officially on Facebook, though I do have a log on) I went up to so many people with, "do you remember?" 

That's about all you can ask for out of a reunion.  Once the memory is remembered and the superficial "where do you live?" question is asked, there isn't a lot of time for more.  I was glad to be there for the weekend fun to see the spectacle of it all, to see how everyone has changed, or not changed in some cases, but happy to return home knowing my small handful of East Central friends that I don't have to prepare "so, where do you live?" questions for, will always be here.  Thank goodness for friends who remember more than your yearbook portrait.  Especially since mine were never good. :-)