Walnut School Reunion

This is Walnut School, which I attended from 1st grade through the 8th. It was the same school from which my mother and father graduated in 1949. In fact, my mother and I had the same first grade teacher (still living, by the way). It was also where, in the 7th grade (1971), I met the girl I would marry 18 years later.

Most of the structure in the picture is gone now, burned down by vandals in 1998. All that remains is the smaller section to the left. The rest was gutted by the fire and afterwards torn down. The school grounds have now become the Walnut Community Center grounds. Extending from the main structure's left side to just short of the double doors is an open air pavilion with a stage, a home now for community events such as rummage sales and the school reunion.

The Walnut School Reunion is for anybody who ever attended the school, but the focus tends to be on those who graduated from there when it was a high school. Four students graduated in the first class (academic year 1923-1924), and for some 22 years after that students graduated after the completion of eleventh grade. A twelfth grade was added for the graduating class of 1946-1947. My uncle Mack was part of that class, and I'm sure he and the 11 who graduated with him were thrilled to have the extra year. The last graduating class at Walnut High School walked across the stage at the end of the 1961-1962 academic year.

On Saturday the 14th of October, 2006, I took my mother to this year's reunion. The air was colder than normal for this time of year, and the wind was kicking up a bit. But the sky was blue, and a goodly group of folks turned out for the occasion, one coming from as far away as Arizona. Mom went most of the way with her walker, and then I rolled her into the pavilion in a wheel chair she sometimes uses in such situations. Then I went back to the car, rolled down the windows and sat reading.

But I found it hard not to listen. I couldn't help thinking how the murmur of voices in the pavilion echoed the voices of the children and young adults these people had been in years long gone. They talked and laughed in open air that was in the same geographic space where their voices had rung the wood and plaster of the old hallways and classrooms and gymnasium. Accompanied by prerecorded tracks, a man from the class of 1958-1959, in school at Walnut the year I was born ('58), sang three songs: one about Jacob "rasslin' with the angel"; one about loving "old people"; and something patriotic. (I sang at this event last year and didn't touch on any of these topics!) Then the event MC got up to begin recognizing those present from the different graduating classes.

The earliest class with a graduating member present was 1932-1933. Lo and behold, I knew the name--Tressalee Ramsey, my 5th and 6th grade teacher! She's 93 now (and still driving, they say). I had to go speak with her, so I locked up the car and joined the crowd. When I got an opportunity, I sat down beside her. She looked at me and smiled, but I could tell that she didn't recognize me. How could she? But when I introduced myself, the recognition was immediate, and she took my hand and squeezed it. She told me that she'd recently run across a story that I'd written for her class years ago and that she'd been meaning to drop it by Mom's house. I told her that I'd thought of that story not too long ago (and mentioned it in my post from 14 September 2006). "It's a good story," she said.

Walnut School was a good story too.