I made the decision to go a little bit too late, to go back to the old hometown for a decades long reunion of high school and elementary companions from my past. I had a little trouble getting started, but I got to Tulsa one hour before the first scheduled activity.
Deciding at the last minute that yes, I really do want to do this, though I couldn't have said why, exactly, I got the rig ready to roll.
I live in a small Toyota motor home and I drove it to Tulsa from Tucson, AZ. About the same price as airfare, car and hotel, but certainly more flexible. Not to mention uncertain and exciting. A bit dangerous.
And interminably long and sort of painful and boring, too. But okay, enough about me. It's the trip I mean to describe.
The ultimate trip was seeing the faces of people I knew as children and teens, and within those faces was hidden my earliest experience of that person, and when they smiled, their youthful faces peered out. There was only one face I was absolutely certain who it was before I looked at the name tag, but in everyone, once you connect your remembrance of the past with this person standing here, the essence of each person really shows through.
Some people were taller than I remembered. Some were shorter. I recognize this as perhaps a function of my current height. Some, especially the men, were more substantial than I remembered them as boys at Eliot, for example. This was a part of the trip that was sort of exciting. Food for thought, more than anything.
Everybody was so nice to me. I lost my voice talking to everybody. I hooked up with people who reminded me of a lot of wonderful things I had forgotten about my life. And Tulsa is beautiful in October. I am so glad I could come for this brief little visit, and be with y'all for this fabulous time. Thanks!
Betsy Beard
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