Wrapping Up

With the events of this past week, my blog backlog seems to be growing - lots of ideas, but little time to commit them to bits and bytes.

A few last notes from the funeral:  I suppose everyone has gotten the email about the middle aged lady who goes to the dentist, only to read his diploma and realize he was a high school classmate.  When she says to the dentist, "I think you were in my class", he asks, "Oh, really, what did you teach?"

One of my classmates walked up to me yesterday and asked me my name.

For most of you, this wouldn't seem remarkable.  But my graduating class numbered 16, and we've lost two.  I can name every person in the class, and have seen all of them within the past ten years.  So, I was a bit taken aback when this one I'd visited with at the 25th reunion (six years ago) didn't recognize me.  I've not changed much in 31 years, and really very little in the most recent six. 

But then, sometimes the shoe's on the other foot.

About five of us were standing about after the funeral service when a guy walked up, with a deliberate look, and asked "Is this the Class of '79?"

"Yes."

"I'm Richard XXXXX."

The classmate to my right introduced himself, then I introduced myself.

"Oh, you're The Donald."

"Huh?"

"The Donald."

"Uh, yeah, I'm Don."

"No, I mean you're The Donald, the blogger."

At this point, I'm really struggling, trying to figure out which class Richard is from, and how in the heck he stumbled across my blog, inasmuch as I don't attach tags, and, to my knowledge, wouldn't expect anyone at that gathering even to know I have a blog.

Thankfully, a few moments later, someone else walked up and said, "I'm Donnie, Richard's brother", bringing the picture into focus.  Richard had been in our class from 5th through 8th grades, but left to attend another high school.  So I guess we can't be faulted too much for being slow on the recall after 35 years.

In talking with the brothers (Richard and Donnie), we reminisced about growing up in Irving, of old landmarks long gone, and they told me of one I'd never heard before.  Apparently, until the late '40s or early '50s, there was an airport south of 183 and east of Story Road, running north-south down to where the Plymouth Park shopping center has now been for about 50 years.  I wasn't sure I believed them until I researched it this evening, since the housing in that area is about 55-60 years old, but sure enough, there had been one, and I could vaguely remember seeing some remaining hangar buildings in the '60s and '70s.

I guess you know you're getting old when you drive by a place and remember when it was a field, then such-and-such was built on it, which changed to something else, and then it was torn down and now it's a field again.

You know, kind of like Texas Stadium.

Oh, and I still never learned how Richard came to be acquainted with my blog.