Remembering My Carpenter Pals at Our 40th Reunion

At friendships were often fostered to span a lifetime. Even today, I remember most of my classmates vividly.

Point to their picture, and I could probably tell you where they lived, what they ate for lunch and the names of their family pets. Get a life, say some to me, but I find these memories comforting, especially as I’ve gotten older.

Could I put my memory to the test at our? And how many members from Carpenter would be there? Would they remember me, and if so, would that be a good or a bad thing?

A few of us from the decided to plan our own mini-reunion. We didn’t want to wait until 2012 to get together, and be lumped with the class of 1972, so we collaborated to create our own bash, aptly held at the Odyssey Restaurant in Granada Hills, where we had our prom.

Like a virus, word spread, and soon we had a flock of seventy-five coming to the event. Attending were several of my Carpenter pals. I’d seen some of them over the years at other reunions, and here we were again, ten years later.

Thankfully we had nametags; otherwise I would have been clueless about some of the characters. I really went on a date with you? Tell me more!

The expansion and contraction of peoples’ lives has always been fascinating to me. Once we were all children, but now many of us have had children and grandchildren. We’ve dealt with the death of parents, serious illnesses, fame, fortune and ruin. The tapestry of life is filled with color, rips and tears.

But some peoples’ lives didn’t surprise me, especially my pals from Carpenter.

James De Bree, always one of the smartest guys in class, aptly became a top-notch accountant. No wonder everyone wanted to copy off of his tests. Robbie Armstrong, blessed with the vocal talents of Judy Garland, went on to pursue a career in show business for many years.  Sandy Galin, a gifted musician, works for a symphonic group.

While several classmates danced to the tunes of KC and the Sunshine Band, Steppenwolf and the Stevie Wonder, I leaned over to a few from Carpenter to recall a few stories.

“Remember when I wrecked your dad’s car at the Kirkwood Bowling Alley?” Sandy Galin grinned in recollection.

“Didn’t your family have a monkey?” I asked Marty Zimmerman.

“How about those afternoons with the Ouija Board?” I asked Robbie Armstrong. “Didn’t we try to levitate the house?”

We laughed and commiserated at the ebb and flow of our lives, knowing that it’s all too fragile at times. Yet here we were, enjoying friendships from close to 50 years ago, when the playground was our cubicle, and teachers ruled the day.