Reunion
I write this sitting in a small dormitory room at Haverford College, which I entered in 1963, but from which I did not finally graduate until 1973. This weekend is the 45th reunion of my original class.
I could, as this is Saturday morning, be writing my usual Saturday morning reflection on teaching. This will serve in its stead, because Haverford College played a significant role in my becoming a teacher, and in how I have always been drawn to my a life of service.
This is a reflection on a remarkable group of men whom I have now known for almost half a century.
I have not been in as close contact with some of the classmates as with others, but I suppose that is par for the course.
I always delight in reconnecting, on the occasions where I lives interconnect, and at these get-togethers every five years, of which I have missed only 2.
Let me tell a bit about some of my classmates.
I could, as this is Saturday morning, be writing my usual Saturday morning reflection on teaching. This will serve in its stead, because Haverford College played a significant role in my becoming a teacher, and in how I have always been drawn to my a life of service.
This is a reflection on a remarkable group of men whom I have now known for almost half a century.
I have not been in as close contact with some of the classmates as with others, but I suppose that is par for the course.
I always delight in reconnecting, on the occasions where I lives interconnect, and at these get-togethers every five years, of which I have missed only 2.
Let me tell a bit about some of my classmates.
