Emily Paine Carter

Recent columns

• Readers write of run-ins with political bigwigs
• Recording holds clues from 6 decades ago
• Rubbed shoulders with any big names?
• Column archive

For a long time it seemed that our Andrew Lewis High School 40^th class reunion might not happen. Would enough alumni sign up -- and pay up? Could we no longer say "Class of '67: The Best?"

But on a recent June night, 140 classmates, spouses and dates gathered in Roanoke College's ballroom -- a fine site with excellent victuals. Here are some random observations.

"A splendid time is guaranteed for all," assured the invitation. Coincidentally, we reunited on the 40^th anniversary of The Beatles' "Sgt. Pepper's" album -- the source of that line.

How liberating to be free of teen angst! Freed from those high-school worries of wearing the right stuff: straight hair, madras, burgundy-and-pink clothes, etc.! Spoken like a woman who accessorized a hippie sundress with Daryel Smith's vintage Marine jungle boots.

When so many years have rolled on, our adolescent disagreements may be forgotten. Sure, we're evolving spiritually, but really, we simply can't remember.

Echoing the movie "The Graduate" ("Just one word... plastics"), Joe Yates made rounds, whispering a more age-appropriate one-word suggestion: "Naps."

Salem High School teachers Fred Campbell and Mike Gibson served as disc jockeys and played a great mix of, uh, oldies. The Doors' "Hello, I love you ... won't you tell me your name" fit. At the last reunion I came within a nanosecond of saying "I do remember you! You used to be ... !" Fred and Mike were surprised that we all sang along to Dylan's lyrics " ... no direction home," and my husband was flat-out alarmed that his bride sounded like, then seemed to look like, Bob himself.

Hmm, and they played "Staying Alive" and some Grateful Dead. So we danced closer to class cardiologist Dr. Joe Austin and his wife, Becky.

Ellen Walton -- still adorable after all these years -- used her "school principal" voice, because she really is one, to coax dancers to the floor: "You! Get out here! Dance!"

Ever-lovely class president Susan Leftwich Sale -- the only one allowed a microphone -- said she had fretted for 20 years for having forgotten to thank the 1987 reunion committee, so she quickly introduced this year's: Brenda Poff Pagans, Daryel Smith (Brenda and Daryel did most of the work), Chris Gladden, Anne Lee Stevens, Roger and Ellen Porter Holtman, Bev and Debbie Roberts Davis, Jeanne Tingler Yopp, Allen Key, Lee Eubanks and me.

Kudos to tough Wolverine Jimmy Gladden, class of '66, who bravely attended, leaning on his walker -- thanks to his recently broken pelvis.

Roanoke guest Linda Steadman marveled at how many people she knew from this class.

Thanks to all dates and spouses who endure reunions.

Three teachers attended: Bill Setzer, Gary Kelly and Walter Robinson. We're not making this up: he has not changed! Teacher Sandra Simpson Phaup, now living in Northern Virginia, e-mailed: "I smile, thinking about what a terrific group you all were -- certainly never topped in my experience! ... [you,] my first students, always delight my memory and my heart."

We finally met Beth, lovely and brilliant wife of our class success, New York writer Frank Rose.

Dance highlights had to be Anne Lee's spin with Frank with the floor to themselves, and then her and Al Linton's TV-worthy disco number, again solo on the floor.

Our committee hopes to evaluate the evening -- before we forget -- but not to talk about everybody else, since gossiping is so high school and so over. Maybe we'll all continue to get by with a little help from our friends, and reunite in five, not another ten, years -- say, when we're about 64?