Out and About by Teeny McMunn: My 50th Class Reunion

I am going to go to my 50th class reunion in Miles City, Montana.

True story—part of my job is to type up the Pioneer Portraits, 10 years, 25 years, 50 years, etc and I thought to myself, they sure have kept some old books, until I saw that 50 years was 1969, the year I graduated! When I was 18, the concept of still living at 68 was not anything I could have imagined. If I thought of it at all, it would be me in a flowered dress with pin curls in my hair.

One of my classmates started a Facebook page, and interestingly, no one has posted about how well they have done in life, or how poorly. But many have shared memories and confessed antics; like the time someone brought a can of marbles to the senior welcome assembly and, yes, spilled them. I hear that the vice principal said, without much pause, “someone lost his marbles”.

I am attending alone, by choice. I want to go back and reminisce with my classmates and not worry about anyone getting bored. I wonder how many I will recognize or vice versa. I wonder how many will remember me. I don’t recall any cliques. There were the cheerleaders, the class leaders, football players, and I was friends with all, not feeling envious of any.

I only found out at the 20th class reunion that we had the “wrong side of the tracks.” I used to live there when I was very young, but later moved to “the other side.” In high school I was busy, active in several areas, varsity tennis, but I also had a job so I didn’t have a lot of extra time.

I want to revisit my grandma’s house where we often bicycled to and spent the night. I remember my grandpa tumbling rocks and I wonder if I can spot the corner where I remember them and see if the owner will let me dig a bit there. To this day, I am drawn to rocks, wondering if I inherited it from him.

I want to see the house I used to live in. The last time they had kept “the new part” and demolished the old. Five kids, four girls and one boy, grew up in that house, which was small. I want to drive by and remember the times I did my homework at the kitchen table and dashed up stairs that were very steep and narrow to catch the extra phone that Dad had put in, because us girls were on it a lot.

I want to remember and smile about the time my mom, who was a telephone operator, listened in and told me to get off the phone when I was talking to my boyfriend –before privacy acts. I want to remember the huge Christmas tree with lots of presents when times were happy.

I want to drive by the grade school, the junior high and the high school, which I hope they will have a tour of again. School had good memories for me. I thought it did for everyone, until I talked to a classmate at the 20th reunion and asked why he wasn’t at the festivities. He said he had no good memories of high school. I was surprised and somewhat shocked. He will be there this year.

I want to drag Main, though no one will honk at me. I might just honk at them, wave, let them wonder who that old lady is in the red car! My Dad let us drive his company pickup to gas it up at a private gas cylinder he had. We were excited and gassed up to then drag Main. The next day Dad said, I thought I said to fill it up, it’s a quarter down.”

Hmmm, so we dragged main, then filled it up, hoping to solve that problem. The next day he said, “How did so many miles get on it and why do my customers say they saw my truck going up and down main street?” Having three of us girls in high school at the same time, I’m sure, was not easy. And one bathroom!

We had a flesh-colored ‘57 Ford with a three-on-the-column that Dad kept running. It might have been a ‘58 Ford as I was corrected at Dad’s funeral. In the winters, we plugged it in. I don’t remember us girls fighting over who got to drive it, probably because we wouldn’t have been able to use it.

I want to see what is left of the Red Rock Drive Inn where I worked making hamburgers and fresh-cut French fries. It had a connecting restaurant and gift shop and a motel in the back.

I want to see and remember where the Crossroads Inn was, that many of my generation hold fond memories of. It was a nice place to have dinner and where I learned what a salad fork was.

I want to have lunch at the newly-remodeled Woolworth’s counter and remember the “Five and Dime” store where one could get numerous cute little items and live turtles that seemed to always escape when we brought them home.

I want to gas up at the station that used to give out green stamps that I still have several books of.

I want to drive out to where the Drive-In was and remember those many times we watched shows and cartoons in the summer for $1.

I might go to the movie theater downtown and exclaim how I remember when we could get two movies, cartoons, pop and popcorn on a Saturday afternoon for a $1. (And see if those within earshot think I may be off my rocker.)

I want to go to the Dairy Queen, order a Dilly Bar, and tell them we used to buy them for 12/$1, instead of $2. 50 each.

I want to see my oldest sister and her two daughters, who now have children that have children that I have not met. That makes me a great-great aunt. When they get together, it becomes very loud and it would irritate anyone who does not know them.

My uncle and his wife will be coming to Miles from Williston, N.D. He is in the latter stages of Huntington Disease. I will be doing a fundraiser walk in Spokane before I go. If you have not heard of it or are curious, please look it up.

I want to walk down by the river. Miles has two rivers, the Yellowstone and the Tongue, that come together. We used to look for agates. I hope I get lucky and find some.

I want to drive by what was once a sunken football field. It was about eight feet down, as I remember. Games were played there. In the winter, they flooded it for a skating rink. At one end, was a box car with a potbelly stove inside that kept us warm in between our times on the ice. It is now all filled in, which must have taken a lot of dirt.

I am going back a week early to relax and hang out. I am staying at a bed and breakfast on Main Street, which will be my first time staying at one. I am looking forward to the reunion dinner and get-together to hear some of the stories, and see who will fess up now that it is 50 years later.

I want to remember simpler times before life got complicated.

On the way back, I will stop off at Great Falls, to spend the night with a neighbor who lived a block from us. Her dad was the Sheriff. We used to rent bicycles-for-two and bike all over. I believe it was $3 an hour, making it $1.50 for each.

I will be ready to come back to work to rest up.