Reunion, Part 4

Perhaps it was that I was in a rush — or maybe it is old age — but I knew as I drove north on US 101 I was heading to the Elks Club on H Street. But that didn’t prevent me from turning onto Front Street and then into the parking lot between Enderts Pool and the Crescent City Convention Center.

Fortunately, I returned to my sense and got back out on Front Street and turned at H Street. I pulled in and parked, waiting for Stanlee Stanovich to arrive as I told her the night before I’d meet her there and we’d walk in together.

While waiting, several couples arrived and went inside, then Bobby Adams came up the steps from the lower parking areas, calling out my name. We stood around and jawed for a bit — until Wendy Mendes arrived with her daughter and sister Dana.

I asked Wendy, “So why’s a good-looking woman like you here without her husband?”

“Oh, he passed away,” she answered.

Talk about embarrassing myself. I couldn’t apologize enough for being such a classless cad.

Then after a little more chit-chat, Wendy started for the door as did Bobby, who left me saying, “I’m going in with this beautiful woman.”

A couple of minutes later, Stanlee pulled into the drive and parked. The first thing she said to me laughingly was, “Some videographer you are!”

She then proceeded to tell me how none of the video I took the night before using her new-fangled video camera turned out. Then she kidded me more by holding up the camera and showing me the button that activates the recording.

The joke was on her though. By the time the night was over, her hand had cramped in place reminiscent of the video camera’s sleek shape.

Once inside, Dorothy Morgan and Lydia Brown made sure I knew who I was by giving me a name badge that included a picture of me from my sophomore year. Back then I had a head full of hair, so needless to say — if it weren’t for my name being included on the badge, no one who have had any idea who I was.

The first Klamath River Rat I saw was Nadine Redd. She was there not only to take part in the reunion but to act as the official photographer.

She had been my baby-sitter back when she was attending Del Norte. I hadn’t seen Nadine since 1973.

Upstairs, the hall was abuzz with activity. The band was jus’ getting warmed up, with announcements being  made by Darlene Clark and Connie Brooks.

There was plenty of finger-foods laid out for everyone to enjoy. My favorites were the rolled slices of turkey and the meatballs.

Being a social-moth, I moved from one room to the next taking pictures and chatting with people I hadn’t seen in ages. This included Marvin Bowers, Charlene Blackburn, Suzanne Stennett and Carrie and Abbie Crist.

Speaking of  Suzanne, it was her, at the urging of her beau, who made me turn bright red, when she grabbed my bald head and cradled it against her ample bosom. Meanwhile her boyfriend, using my camera, snapped off several shots — laughing all the way.

And as odd as it might sound, someone introduced me to a woman who not only graduated from Del Norte, but also lives in Reno. I even know her niece.

Rhonda Kitchen graduated early in November 1977 and was busy getting acquainted with old schoolmates she’d not seen in years. As for her niece, Rebecca Kitchen, she works for KOLO News 8, the news partner to the radio station where I’m employed.

I can hear the music, “It’s a small world after all, It’s a small world after, It’s a small world after all, it’s a small, small world…”

There was a real “ah shucks,” moment when I saw Julie Childre kissing people on the neck. I asked,” Where’s mine?” and she plied me with several, which left me grinning like an idiot from ear-to-ear.

It took three beers to calm the pain in my back so I could go out onto the dance floor and shake my hips a little, but I did it and I enjoyed myself. I hadn’t done any dancing in years for fear I’d end up flopping around on the floor with severe spasms.

One of the funnier incidents happened when Kathy Chester came and said goodbye to me. She was leaving for the night because she wanted to get a head start on the picnic the next day as well as some rest.

I watched as she walked out the doors of the Elks Club.

In the meantime I continued wandering around from place to place, talking to fellow classmates and taking pictures. As I came back into the bar area, I saw Kathy standing there sipping on a glass of water.

“I thought you left?” I asked.

She smiled, a blushed lightly and replied, “I forgot I’m one of the hosts of this party.”

We both chuckled at that.

The bar finally closed at 1:30 am, Sunday morning. Once again, I was one of the last to leave having helped clean the dance hall up along with a number of others who had attended the festivities.

I knew it was going to rough getting up in time for the coming picnic.