Members of the Bowdoin Class of 1964 recently met to begin planning our 55th Reunion. That meeting got me thinking about high school and college reunions, what they mean, what they reveal.

Let me tell you about Bob, a fellow member of the Mount Pleasant High School (Wilmington, Delaware) Class of 1960. Bob was Mr. Everything in school: President of the Class, top student, fine athlete (track and football). An Eagle Scout, Bob was named one of President Eisenhower’s top 100 youth.

Bob went on to Williams College, where he excelled, and then to Princeton Theological Seminary. After Princeton, Bob took a position at the University of Hawaii. And then life turned upside down. He took part in burning down a Reserve Officers Training Corps building in Honolulu an 1971 as an act of resistance against the Vietnam War. He then fled to Canada, where he lived underground for three years before turning himself in. (I was asked to write a character reference for him at the time.)

Bob served six months in a minimum security prison in Pennsylvania where, as irony would have it, one of his fellow inmates was Jeb Stuart Magruder, a fellow Williams graduate, who had been involved in the Watergate scandal. Bob later spent the bulk of his career running a chimney sweep business in New Hampshire. Whew … so much for predicting a life path based on high school performance!

Our high school class held its first-ever reunion (the 30th) in 1990. Someone on the Reunion Committee asked me to serve as master of ceremonies, an odd choice since I had been quite shy in high school, not a big name. Maybe no one else would agree to do it. In any case, everyone seemed to have a grand old time.

During my talk I recall saying something like, “Life has leveled our differences.” The cheerleaders had become less alluring; the football players less imposing; and the nerds less nerdy. We didn’t look “old,” quite yet, but we sure looked different.

Twenty years later, at the 50th reunion, I had a short conversation with my high school girlfriend. Somehow we got on the subject of politics — always dangerous in such settings.  She said she was a Republican. I had been a Republican in high school also, like virtually all my classmates (and their parents) in this white bread suburban community. I asked her why she was a Republican and she said, “Because I earned my money and I want to keep it.” Not wanting to get into an argument, I quickly excused myself to get a drink. I remember that one of the men in the class was still mad at a girl who had broken up with him 50 years before. Talk about holding grudge!

Reunions can be embarrassing. One of my college classmates related a story about his 50th high school reunion in Leominster, Massachusetts. A woman behind the registration table greeted him with great enthusiasm, noting that they had dated a few times in school. My friend, not having a clue who she was, said, “Of course we did.” The woman asked,” Do you remember me?” “Sure I do!” replied my friend. “What’s my name?’ asked the woman. “Mary!” my friend declared with conviction, picking one of the common names at the time. “Wrong!” said the woman. My friend sheepishly apologized and slunk away into the crowd.

Back to my 55th Bowdoin Reunion. At this point in our lives, we’re not just classmates, we’re survivors — of bad marriages or heart attacks or addictions to alcohol or, in the case of at least one deceased classmate, gambling. You no longer hear bragging, unless it’s about feeling better after a hip replacement or a grandchild being a super athlete or student. That said, we do brag about how great our class is, a boast backed up by giving figures and attendance at reunions. Happily, we never discuss politics.

Human nature being what it is, I guess we all crave a sense of belonging to some group beyond our immediate families. And there’s something comforting about sharing time and space and thoughts with people who knew you way back when and accept you, mostly, anyway

As for me, I take special pride in having attended schools with mascots, which are both politically correct and playfully unique: the Green Knights (Mount Pleasant) and the Polar Bears (Bowdoin).  That’s saying something.

David Treadwell, a Brunswick writer, welcomes commentary or suggestions for future “Just a Little Old” columns. [email protected].