Name tags a must for reunion planning (04/30/08)

Who the heck is that guy?

I'd just sat down at Ponderosa with some high school classmates on a Saturday afternoon. We were meeting to discuss a birthday party. Our own.

Sometime during the year 2008, every surviving member of my class will have turned 60 years old. A few jumped the gun and made the transition in late 2007.

And because that's a pretty significant milestone, someone tossed out the idea of having a 60th birthday party for the P.H.S. class of 1966. Think of it as kind of a mini-reunion between class reunions; our last full-scale reunion was in 2006, our next will be in 2011.

Fair enough. Sounds like fun.

But as we sat around the table and kicked a few ideas back and forth, I kept wondering, "Who the heck is that guy?"

So we talked about renting the Portland Golf Club, and we talked about who should be the caterer, and we talked about the idea of using old 45 rpm records as table decorations, and we talked about having a trivia contest based upon the music we grew up with.

But I was still clueless about my mystery classmate.

I'd arrived later than the others, and if there were any you-remember-me-my-name-is moments I had missed them.

While the conversation ebbed and flowed, I took a quick inventory around the table.

Steve McKee, check. Steve has been tireless keeping up the database of classmate contact information and maintaining the class Web site. (Yes, the class has a Web site: www.phs66.com.)

Melodi Haley, check. Melodi is treasurer of the class fund, a bank account that lets us send an appropriate gift when a classmate or a classmate's loved one dies. (Yes, we do that too. It's an unusual class.)

Bob Osenbaugh, check. And his wife. Bob's assignment is the trivia test, and he's diving into it with enthusiasm.

Glen Funk, check. And Glen's wife, though I didn't get her name. They were at the opposite end of the table, and it was a little hard to hear because the restaurant was crowded with Tri-State Gas Engine and Tractor Association members getting ready for a work day at the club's grounds.

That just left the mystery guy, a woman I figured was his wife, and a girl who must be their daughter.

Wait a minute, I thought. Maybe the woman was in my class. Nope. It was clear from a few things she said that she wasn't from Jay County.

I kept listening for clues.

Steve.

Someone called him Steve.

So I started mentally flipping through the Rolodex looking for a classmate named Steve.

Not Steve Ogborn. Though I haven't seen him in years, I'm sure I'd know him instantly. We were born the same day.

Not Steve Arnold. I'd recognize him too.

Steve Yarrington? Maybe. But this guy mentioned living in Fort Wayne, and the last I knew Steve Yarrington lives in Decatur.

I was clueless. The meeting wrapped up. Chairs scooted back from the table. Folks started to head for the cashier to pay their bills.

And I leaned over to Steve McKee and Melodi and said, "Help me. Who the heck is that guy?"

I spoke softly, and they didn't hear me, another sign that 60 is a big year. So I repeated the question.

Just about then, I heard the wife of my mystery classmate say, "Ask him? Go ahead and ask him?"

I turned to find that the mystery classmate was as clueless as I was. He'd been looking at me thinking, "Who the heck is that guy?" all through the meeting.

Two seconds later, the mystery was solved.

Jack Ronald, say hello again to Steve Bricker; Steve, say hi to Jack.

The party sounds like a fun idea, and I'm looking forward to it.

But I also believe that if we need a theme for the event "Who the heck is that?" would be fitting.[[In-content Ad]]