Class reunions---love them or hate them! But if you receive an invitation to your half-century-mark college reunion, you know future opportunities are finite. So, in early October, I reserved a room at the historic Warrior Hotel in Sioux City, and drove 3 hours to my undergraduate home, Morningside University.
Of course, it was Morningside College in those days. It transitioned to a university last year, part of a growing trend among U.S. colleges to signify a new emphasis on graduate degrees, and enhanced business, science, and technology courses. Its Chiefs mascot was replaced by the Mustangs in 1998. Over time, this small, liberal arts college affiliated with the United Methodist Church has attracted the sons and daughters of many farmers, small-town folks, and ministers.
The most visible change has been the transformation of the rough-hewn, hilly terrain into a beautifully manicured campus. Despite a hard freeze that October night, somehow the grounds crew protected the colorful beds for Homecoming Weekend.
Our class of 280 members arrived in 1972, blissfully unaware that the U.S. was on the cusp of change. "It was a turbulent time," remarked classmate Gary Gassett during an informal get-together on the first night of our reunion. "We were sheltered here." Built on a steep hillside, the girls' castle-like dormitory only lacked a moat. We were required to check in at the front desk nightly. By the time I was a junior, we evolved to "key cards" and "open dorm hours." We had no TVs in our rooms, and of course, no computers
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But the Vietnam War was escalating. Morningside was hardly a hotbed of dissent, but there were antiwar protests and an April 1972 Peace Picnic. "I met John [her future husband] at an anti-war protest," classmate Marty Knepper recalled. As staff writers at The Collegian Reporter, we had a front-row seat to the controversy over Jerry Rubin's invitation to speak in 1971.
My news clips included student fasts to raise money for the E. Pakistan refugees, and an effort called Project Awareness to combat drug abuse, as well as a new Hotline. Editions of The Collegian Reporter featured a "Grass, Heaven, or Jail," editorial and a headline, "What happened at Kent State?" A Black Cultural Center was established in 1970, and I was thrilled to cover Alex Haley's visit to share his research for what became the blockbuster book, Roots.
I learned a lot about myself and the world as a student there. I traveled with M'side groups on spring breaks to the East Coast where I saw Hair, and visited the Berkeley campus and San Francisco. But our reunion revealed things I didn't know--and raised other questions. For instance, where was I when John Denver performed on campus in February 1972?
On Friday morning, Bill Russell took the stage again at Klinger-Neal Theatre to regale us with highlights of his Broadway career. Russell, a librettist and lyricist, hails from Spearfish, South Dakota, and his creation, Side Show, was nominated in 1978 for the Tony's Best Musical Award. (Look him up!) His other stage musicals include Elegies for Angels, Punks and Raging Queens.
I learned the story of Lags Hall, one of the newer campus buildings. Dave Lageschulte, a Waverly farm boy who graduated one year behind us, made a small fortune as an entrepreneur in the restaurant and entertainment business. In 1986, he became controlling shareholder of one of the original licensees of the Hooters restaurant concept, and opened his first one in Fort Myers, Florida. Sadly, Dave passed away in 2014 at the age of 63. "I was in speech class with Dave, and he never came to class prepared!" Gary remarked.
Gathering Friday night at Bob Roe's Point After, we reminisced about larger-than-life Collegian Reporter columnist John Nelson, who ran for Homecoming Queen in 1971 as Pooh Bear. Marty maintained that he received the most votes but was disqualified. "We were in an era when we scoffed at the 1950s traditions and conventions," she said. Someone said Nelson had become a United Methodist minister. Another thought he later became an Anglican priest in Indonesia. No one knew.
Of course, we spent some time swapping roommate stories. Before long, another reunion group seated behind us burst into the chorus of "We All Live in a Yellow Submarine." I knew it was time to call it a night.
How have the times changed us?
No doubt our alma mater has changed. What about the Class of '72? As students, we spent hours debating the war, world hunger, social justice, feminism, and drug use. Have we grown more conservative, less idealistic, or caring? But glimmers of hope flickered. Gary and Marty lamented the decline of the humanities at private liberal arts schools. He shared his plan to visit a classmate in Birmingham during a Gulf Shores vacation, and retrace the historic Selma to Montgomery Civil Rights Trail.
Despite lasting societal changes, one significant time warp caught us by surprise. In 1972, brochures for birth control and abortion referral services and resources were posted on college boards and printed in The Collegian Reporter. Our commencement speaker was a newly-minted Supreme Court Judge named Harry Blackmun. One year later, Blackmun authored the landmark ruling, Roe v. Wade. Today, in 2022, we worried that our daughters are back to where we started.
The Vietnam War never ended for many classmates and their families. One of my roommates was engaged to her high school sweetheart while he served in Vietnam. He survived the war, but their engagement did not. A few years later, she married another Vietnam veteran, happily raising a family with him until he was diagnosed with cancer caused by Agent Orange. She was a widow at 61.
Classmates Terry McCue and her husband had been looking forward to the reunion--their first time back. However, Hurricane Ian cancelled their trip.
Like Terry, many of us departed Morningside with diplomas in hand, engagement rings on fingers, and jobs lined up. Others returned to live with their parents over the summer, working temp jobs, and interviewing for "real-life" professions. I still recall living in limbo land--that awkward state of suspension between college graduation and the fork in the road leading to a dream destination.
Just like in 1972, we promised to get together before the next reunion. But this time, we felt a sense of urgency. Before leaving, I stopped at the campus bookstore to take advantage of a 50% discount, only to realize that the bookstore no longer sold any books. Duh!
Returning home, a "Forever Simon and Garfunkel"Sunday afternoon concert at the George Daily Auditorium in Oskaloosa was an unplanned, but apropos bookend to my Homecoming weekend. As my husband and I drove home afterwards, this song from their 1968 Bookends album, combined with the ripening harvest in the fields, created a perfect canvas for my fading reflections in the rear-view mirror of life.
"Time, time, time
See what's become of me
While I looked around
For my possibilities
I was so hard to please
But look around
Leaves are brown
And the sky is a hazy shade of winter.
Hang on to your hopes, my friend
That's an easy thing to say
But if your hopes should pass away
Simply pretend
That you can build them again,
Look around
The grass is high
The fields are ripe
It's the springtime of my life
Ah, Seasons change with the scenery
Weaving time in a tapestry
Won't you stop and remember me
At any convenient time.
Look around
Leaves are brown
There's a patch of snow on the ground."
Hazy Shade of Winter, Simon & Garfunkel
What's your time travelin' story?
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Thank you, Cheryl, for taking us with you on your Time Travel. I was nodding my head the whole time remembering my parallel path of the same time.