This week, the high school class of
1959 will converge on Lubbock to renew old acquaintances, remember days of
old, play catch-up, and swap life’s stories. Excitement reigns as the date
draws nigh.
Lubbock raised us right. I had to leave to realize that fact. Mac Davis, a
favorite son of our vintage, expressed it beautifully in Lubbock in My
Rearview Mirror, an anthem for every youth with a false since of sagacity
who cannot wait to venture forth to greener pastures.
Now with too much white in the hair, but years of hard-earned wisdom under
the belt, we return home. Yeah, in some fashion, Lubbock will always be
home. This city provided a safe, nurturing cocoon in which adults cared for
all of us, a rare environment these days.
This week we will visit with faculty and staff who are still around. The
surprising aspect is that they want to reunite with those who once tried
their soul. Coaches, assistant principals, English, math, Latin teachers,
and those who instilled within us an appreciation for the fine arts will
check out each former student and issue a final grade.
We will belly laugh with old cohorts, sweethearts, and competitors. We will
return to the people and place that made us who we are. Content with where
we find ourselves, the conversation will flow like honey.
The final verse of Mac’s song echoes hauntingly in my brain. “Happiness is
Lubbock, Texas growing nearer and dearer, and the vision is getting clearer
in my mind.”
