There are two types of people in the world, those who divide the world into two types of people and those who don’t. Of course, being an engineer, I’m one of the former. There are two types of people in the world, those who attended Mary Persons and those who didn’t. And there are two types of people who attended Mary Persons, those who are members of the Class of ’74, and those who aren’t. There are two types of our classmates, those who are here tonight and those who aren’t. Finally, there are two types of classmates with us tonight, those who are wearing our class rings, and those who aren’t. [Hold up my right hand with my MP class ring so the audience can see it.] Ladies and gentlemen, I’m proud to be gathered with you tonight, fellow members of the Mary Persons Class of ’74 and guests, to celebrate the 50th anniversary of our graduation, our golden anniversary, proud representatives of the Black and Gold.
Mary Persons had, and still has, a well-deserved reputation for both academic and athletic excellence.
We were blessed with some great teachers who were thoroughly knowledgeable of the subjects they taught and had the patience to explain the material so that every student could understand. We did not all have the same teachers, and I am sure that not all of us share the same opinions about those teachers, but I would like to mention a few of my favorites, those who taught me, inspired me, prepared me well for the real world, the world after high school.
Mrs. Zellner and Coach Cook motivated my interest in history and political science. I have often thought that if all the adults in our country had been taught by Mrs. Zellner and Coach Cook, they would have a true understanding of American history and how our government works, and doesn’t work, and our country wouldn’t be as divided as we are today.
And Mr. Winters encouraged my love of literature and poetry, subjects which don’t necessarily increase our financial prosperity, but greatly enrich our lives. I will never forget how he taught us to interpret poetry, and that the theme of all 19th century American poetry is death.
Of course, Coach Pitts and his powerhouse football teams inspired the whole school, the city of Forsyth, and all of Monroe County. What other high school has not one but two books documenting the history of its football team? The Bulldogs our senior year finished the regular season with nine wins and one loss—tied for the best season ever at the time. And that wasn’t considered good enough to be included in Part One: Celebrating the Best of Mary Persons Football in the book MP—The History of Mary Persons Football. The Mary Persons Bulldogs were—and are—a great source of pride for all of us who are so fortunate to be alumni.
John Lennon wrote, “Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.” A senior year in high school is a traditional time to plan for life in the real world, life after high school. Think back to your plans at the time. Which of those did you accomplish? Which did you change? How have you lived your life these past 50 years as you’ve been busy making other plans? And what are your plans for the future? Remember, 68 is the new 28. This is not the time to sit in your rocking chair, watching the calendar as you used to watch the clock. This is the time to relish your life, to read, to travel, to spend time with your family and friends. To engage in your hobbies or to take up new ones. To write, perhaps poetry, short stories, or a novel. Or write an autobiography for your children and grandchildren and the generations to come. There’s so much to do—and now you have the time to do it! I plan to continue savoring the time I spend with my two daughters and granddaughter, to travel, to read, and to write. And of course, one of my plans is to gather with you again at our next class reunion, whenever that may be.
While we were at Mary Persons, prayer was allowed at official school events; here in the Bible Belt, prayer was an integral part of any public gathering. Our graduation ceremony included two prayers—an invocation and a benediction. As plans were being made for our graduation, Mrs. McCosh asked me to give the invocation. I asked for the benediction instead, as I wanted to have the last word for the Mary Persons Class of ’74.
The faculty wanted to ensure that the graduation ceremony went smoothly, with everyone knowing what to say, when to say it, and saying nothing controversial; therefore, the entire ceremony was scripted. While the speakers were allowed to write their speeches, this was done under close supervision of the teacher in charge, who had final approval authority. Mrs. McCosh wrote a nice, but long, prayer for me to deliver. Of course, being high school students, those of us with speaking roles chafed at having so little freedom in what we could say. Therefore, there was a longstanding tradition at Mary Persons graduation ceremonies that someone would rebel, would stray from the script and substitute another speech for the one that had been officially approved. After all, what could they do to us at that point? One year, supposedly all four of the speakers replaced their speeches with speeches they had written themselves.
As our graduation ceremony neared its conclusion, the faculty must have been very proud; everything had gone as planned, everyone had stayed on script. There was only my benediction left, and I’m sure they thought I was the least likely of all of us to rebel. I stepped up to the microphone, took off my cap, and said, “Let us pray.” Then, rather than reading the prayer that Mrs. McCosh had written, I said a short, simple prayer, since I wanted our class to go into the real world blessed by a real prayer, not a speech written by our counselor.
I do not remember the entire benediction, but I recall I began by saying, “Father, this is the last time that we will be together.” Sadly, it was. I never saw some of our classmates again after that night. We never all gathered as a class after our graduation, and now, several of our classmates are no longer with us. I would like to close with a moment of silence in memory of those who have gone before us.
Thank you.