High School Reunion 6: into the Denver Country Club for the very first time.

Of our class we missed 28

There were three who had met their fate

And as for the rest

I just think it’s best

To say they’ve got too much on their plate.

 

Synopsis: I’m a Family Practitioner from Sioux City, Iowa. In 2010 I danced back from the brink of burnout, and honoring a 1 year non-compete clause, traveled and worked in out-of-the-way places in Alaska, Nebraska, Iowa, and New Zealand. I followed 3 years Community Health Center work with a return to traveling and adventures in temporary positions in Alaska, rural Iowa, suburban Pennsylvania and western Nebraska. 2017 brought me adventures in Iowa, Alaska, and northern British Columbia. After a month of part-time in northern Iowa, a new granddaughter, a friend’s funeral, and a British Columbia reprise, I took a break from Sioux City for my 50^th High School reunion.  Any identifiable patient information has been included with permission.

Our reunion Class Dinner took place at the Denver Country Club.

I called Denver home from 1956 to 1979. I have returned at least once a year since, and I had never set foot in the Denver Country Club. I don’t know when the facility dropped its ethnic exclusions for financial reasons, but I make a habit of avoiding places where I’m not welcomed.

Out of a class of 43, 15 of us showed for at least part of the activities. Which leaves 28 who didn’t come.

One of my classmates, 25 years ago, while soliciting funds and participation on behalf of the school, made the observation that we were a very alienated class. I could not disagree.

Some suffered more than others.

Statistically, the class would have had between 2 and 4 gays, who would not dare have come out in such a virulently, violently homophobic environment.

A Native American, from the Arikara nation, attended a couple of years. We all remembered him as extremely smart and very quiet.  He and I ran half-mile and mile together.  In retrospect, I shudder at the quantity of racism showered on him.

We had a Hispanic, also extremely quiet and smart, who arranged with a teacher to do a self-paced calculus unit while the rest of us worked on pre-calculus. While we valued him as a friend, we showed no cultural sensitivity.

One came from the Thai Royal Family, and we understood his absence.

I had to consider that half the class didn’t pass the senior English final, and weren’t allowed to graduate with the class. I could understand them carrying a grudge though I hope that they don’t suffer from doing so.

The class list marked 3 as deceased.

All in all, not a bad turnout.

Three classmates and a significant other shut down the party at the prematurely septuagenarian hour of 9:30. As we exited, we noted that the DCC would have excluded us in 1968.

We never felt discrimination from our classmates.

I never thought of myself as one of the cool kids, though.  And then I thought better.  I had no enemies in my class.  I must have been one of the cool kids.