Life in the Ville by Jimmy Del Ponte

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The last time I saw most of the people I was with Saturday at a restaurant in Medford, they were wearing white shirts and ties and uniforms. I left St. Clement Elementary School after the eighth grade. One thing that was accomplished at the reunion was that I cleared up one common rumor: I was not thrown out; I left on my own accord. I jumped ship to The Western Junior High School and then onto Somerville High. Eight years of crazy nuns was enough for me. But I had spent those years with most of these kids, and a few remained my friends through my 20s. Then we lost contact. So up steps a couple of my former student pals and they decide to put together…a get together. It was awesome. There had been a couple of reunions in the past (none that I was aware of), but this was the first time I would see some of my old school mates in 47 years. 47 years!

I had seen a couple of the guys and girls around over the past few years but that was it. I would estimate the crowd on Saturday at about 50. Of those 50, at least 40 were old familiar faces. Most of my old friends I recognized, and there were hugs and laughter. We imitated some of Sister Helene’s’ famous derogatory and abusive sayings and laughed harder. We were a bunch of past classmates who were now in our early 60s coming together from all over the region to share memories and catch up.

One of my friends had seven kids! Yikes! Most of my classmates’ kids were all grown up and they had grandkids. There was a lot of pointing and whispering…. “Who is that?” Then, if I remembered them, I would go over and say hi. I heard “you haven’t changed at all” a lot, and I also said it a few times. One of my closest pals growing up actually called my house three weeks ago to ask if I was going to the get together. He actually remembered my phone number (which hasn’t changed since 1961). He was the first one I recognized when I walked in.

One thing that kept going through my mind was, “Man, where did all those years go?” Some kids brought yearbooks and class photos. Someone was taking pictures with an iPad and mentioned something about starting a Facebook page for the class.  At one point this big dude comes up to me and says, ”Hi, Jimmy!” I wouldn’t have known him in a million years. When he told me who he was, I just hugged the hell out of him. Not only was he my classmate for eight years, but he also used to live across the street from me. We were school friends and neighborhood friends. He told me he had been following me on Facebook and here in the paper. I got the biggest kick of all out of catching up with him. Did I mention he lived across the street? That means playing buck buck, listening to The Beatles for the first time, and going in when the streetlights came on. My old pal DJ. I just peeked out my window and there is his old house!

All in all, it was like a trip back in time. I was bursting with emotion and smiling ear to ear. I was so happy that Lenny and Rich and Peggy and the others got the idea to pull this thing together.  It goes to show you that if you plan, they will come. Sure, we are now in our 60s, but the spirit and excitement was still there. It was like we hadn’t lost a beat. We enjoyed being with each other, and no one seemed to want to leave. But, sure enough, one by one we drifted off.  We headed back to our lives with kids, grandkids, elderly parents and jobs (even though some were retired or close to it). But we all came away from that special afternoon with a smile in our hearts. A smile that started almost 50 years ago when we put on our shirts and ties and uniforms and sat at our little desks at St. Clement’s School.  We were full of youth and promise back then, and for one very special day in April of 2014, we were brimming with a unique feeling of accomplishment. We made it through some very interesting, if not trying, years in history: JFK, moon landings, hippies, AIDS and wars. We remembered those of our classmates who we lost, too. Every time I think of that gathering on Saturday, I cant stop smiling.

I still can’t believe it. We were the class of 1971. But after 43 years, we hadn’t changed at all … well, maybe a little … but for one day in April, I was back in classroom 8A.