"We had no cell phones, personal computers, online publishers, real time spell and grammar check, copiers, fax machines, email or instant messenger."
How did we ever make it?
The event was much less than I hoped for because it was too noisy there to really talk. It brought together survivors of more than just the class of '60 when only boys cavorted through the hallowed halls of a school founded in l897, and was once the largest public educational institution of its kind in America. You couldn't even escape the clamor in the Men's Room where a loud radio crackled with the sounds of the Yankee Game.
I was, for sure, back in Da Bronx.
Years later, Clinton went co-ed, faced hard times, was almost closed, and now mirrors the challenges facing public education at a time of financial crisis and what feels like the collapse of the middle class. Today, I am told the High School "looks like an airport' with metal detectors and a heavy-duty security presence.
The best-dressed and most spirited crowd in the room was made up of the boisterous class of 2010 graduating into far worst times that we experienced on the cusp of the turbulent 60s. You could sense their hope for having made it through, but I had a sense of dread for their futures.
There was a moment when the MC asked for someone from our class to speak. At first there were no takers so I hesitantly moved towards the front of the banquet hall. My ambivalence and uncertainty about what to say at what was supposed to be a festive event led to someone else being picked---a person, no name needed, who was considered the most successful among us, and who I later learned, ran a Hedge Fund. (He was known; I wasn't. And to his credit, he had donated generously to the Alumni Association's scholarship fund, but, then again, he could afford to.)
Silence was demanded so he could offer a few clichà ©s about being blessed, working hard and becoming a big macher. (big shot in Yiddish) the usual oration offered up by those who "made it" to those who haven't and probably won't. I guess Horatio Alger was busy that night. He inspired a big Bronx cheer from those who wanted it to be true.
(Note: You can view every article as one long page if you sign up as an Advocate Member, or higher).
1
