50 Year Reunion

I guess since I am the one putting this together, I give myself permission to ramble and reminisce. I have never been to any of our BHS Class Reunions, and my absence from the five group photos in this book confirms that. I really don ’ t have a legitimate reason why, either. It ’ s not like I was avoiding anyone, or mad at anyone, or embarrassed that I had gone gray or bald way too early. I just didn ’ t go. It just didn ’ t seem important – then. Now, it ’ s different. Over the past decades, the Lord has allowed me to be involved in some significant events – the closing of a high school, the opening of a high school, the centennial of a school, the seventy - fifth and one - hundredth anniversaries of my church, not to mention, family birthdays, anniversaries, and the hundreds of weddings I ’ ve photographed. Indeed, I have been molded by, and blessed by, the work it takes, and the joy it is, to celebrate something worth celebrating. When we were in school, history was not a subject I liked. I went to college to be an English teacher. Very wisely, Bluefield State required us to have a minor. I was always an “ average ’ student. I was not smart enough to major in the sciences, mathematics, or fine arts, but anyone could handle social studies, so I reasoned, and I prayed I would never have to teach it. From the very beginning, World History would be what I was “ assigned ” as a teacher. It took me several years to really appreciate and love history – and realize what history really is -- a collection of great stories, with intriguing characters, a twisting plot, enthralling settings, and of course, great conflict. How can you not love a great story? What follows in this book are bits and pieces of great stories from you -- 79 of our classmates. I was delighted to read each of these, and honestly, a bit disappointed that some from our class did not contribute. Like some of you, I never left the area. I have come to sincerely love this place, especially the kind individuals who live here, and our wonderful “ Four Seasons ” weather that never seems to get above 90 degrees for free lemonade. As we look back on it, growing up in “ Almost Heaven ” during the late 1950’ s and ‘60 s was a pretty neat time to be a kid. Wasn ’ t it? Oh, the joys of recess, having our teachers read a book to us after lunch, watching Saturday morning cartoons, playing outside. The list is long and wonderful, isn ’ t it? I ’ m sure our parents worried and wondered about us being teenagers in the ‘70 s, as our hair grew longer, if you were a guy, and your beautiful long straight hair got layered, if you were a girl. And oh, how our fashions reflected the times! How interesting to see bell bottom jeans back in style! I honestly never thought that would happen. Several years ago, someone shared this profound statement with me, “ The days are long, but the years are short. ” Indeed. Questions like -- Would our kids ever be out of diapers? Can we really afford this 30 - year mortgage? How will we ever pay for college? Will I be able to afford retirement? -- seemed to be bigger than life in an earlier chapter of life. I have never been to any of our BHS Class Reunions, and my absence from the five group photos in this book confirms that. I really don ’ t have a legitimate reason why, either. It ’ s not like I was avoiding anyone, or mad at anyone, or embarrassed that I had gone gray or bald way too early. I just didn ’ t go. It just didn ’ t seem important – then. Now, it ’ s different. Over the past decades, the Lord has allowed me to be involved in some significant events – the closing of a high school, the opening of a high school, the centennial of a school, the seventy - fifth and one - hundredth anniversaries of my church, not to mention, family birthdays, anniversaries, and the hundreds of weddings I ’ ve photographed. Indeed, I have been molded by, and blessed by, the work it takes, and the joy it is, to celebrate something worth celebrating. When we were in school, history was not a subject I liked. I went to college to be an English teacher. Very wisely, Bluefield State required us to have a minor. I was always an “ average ’ student. I was not smart enough to major in the sciences, mathematics, or fine arts, but anyone could handle social studies, so I reasoned, and I prayed I would never have to teach it. From the very beginning, World History would be what I was “ assigned ” as a teacher. It took me several years to really appreciate and love history – and realize what history really is -- a collection of great stories, with intriguing characters, a twisting plot, enthralling settings, and of course, great conflict. How can you not love a great story? What follows in this book are bits and pieces of great stories from you -- 79 of our classmates. I was delighted to read each of these, and honestly, a bit disappointed that some from our class did not contribute. Like some of you, I never left the area. I have come to sincerely love this place, especially the kind individuals who live here, and our wonderful “ Four Seasons ” weather that never seems to get above 90 degrees for free lemonade. As we look back on it, growing up in “ Almost Heaven ” during the late 1950’ s and ‘60 s was a pretty neat time to be a kid. Wasn ’ t it? Oh, the joys of recess, having our teachers read a book to us after lunch, watching Saturday morning cartoons, playing outside. The list is long and wonderful, isn ’ t it? I ’ m sure our parents worried and wondered about us being teenagers in the ‘70 s, as our hair grew longer, if you were a guy, and your beautiful long straight hair got layered, if you were a girl. And oh, how our fashions reflected the times! How interesting to see bell bottom jeans back in style! I honestly never thought that would happen. Several years ago, someone shared this profound statement with me, “ The days are long, but the years are short. ” Indeed. Questions like -- Would our kids ever be out of diapers? Can we really afford this 30 - year mortgage? How will we ever pay for college? Will I be able to afford retirement? -- seemed to be bigger than life in an earlier chapter of life. I guess since I am the one putting this together, I give myself permission to ramble and reminisce. I have never been to any of our BHS Class Reunions, and my absence from the five group photos in this book confirms that. I really don ’ t have a legitimate reason why, either. It ’ s not like I was avoiding anyone, or mad at anyone, or embarrassed that I had gone gray or bald way too early. I just didn t go. It just didn ’ t seem important – then. Now, it ’ s different. Over the past decades, the Lord has allowed me to be involved in some significant events – the closing of a high school, the opening of a high school, the centennial of a school, the seventy - fifth and one - hundredth anniversaries of my church, not to mention, family birthdays, anniversaries, and the hundreds of weddings I ’ ve photographed. Indeed, I have been molded by, and blessed by, the work it takes, and the joy it is, to celebrate something worth celebrating. When we were in school, history was not a subject I liked. I went to college to be an English teacher. Very wisely, Bluefield State required us to have a minor. I was always an “ average ’ student. I was not smart enough to major in the sciences, mathematics, or fine arts, but anyone could handle social studies, so I reasoned, and I prayed I would never have to teach it. From the very beginning, World History would be what I was “ assigned ” as a teacher. It took me several years to really appreciate and love history – and realize what history really is -- a collection of great stories, with intriguing characters, a twisting plot, enthralling settings, and of course, great conflict. How can you not love a great story? What follows in this book are bits and pieces of great stories from you -- 79 of our classmates. I was delighted to read each of these, and honestly, a bit disappointed that some from our class did not contribute. Like some of you, I never left the area. I have come to sincerely love this place, especially the kind individuals who live here, and our wonderful “ Four Seasons ” weather that never seems to get above 90 degrees for free lemonade. As we look back on it, growing up in “ Almost Heaven ” during the late 1950’ s and ‘60 s was a pretty neat time to be a kid. Wasn ’ t it? Oh, the joys of recess, having our teachers read a book to us after lunch, watching Saturday morning cartoons, playing outside. The list is long and wonderful, isn ’ t it? I ’ m sure our parents worried and wondered about us being teenagers in the ‘70 s, as our hair grew longer, if you were a guy, and your beautiful long straight hair got layered, if you were a girl. And oh, how our fashions reflected the times! How interesting to see bell bottom jeans back in style! I honestly never thought that would happen. Several years ago, someone shared this profound statement with me, “ The days are long, but the years are short. ” Indeed. Questions like -- Would our kids ever be out of diapers? Can we really afford this 30 - year mortgage? How will we ever pay for college? Will I be able to afford retirement? -- seemed to be bigger than life in an earlier chapter of life. I guess since I am the one putting this together, I give myself permission to ramble and reminisce. I have never been to any of our BHS Class Reunions, and my absence from the five group photos in this book confirms that. I really don ’ t have a legitimate reason why, either. It ’ s not like I was avoiding anyone, or mad at anyone, or embarrassed that I had gone gray or bald way too early. I just didn ’ t go. It just didn ’ t seem important – then. Now, it ’ s different. Over the past decades, the Lord has allowed me to be involved in some significant events – the closing of a high school, the opening of a high school, the centennial of a school, the seventy - fifth and one - hundredth anniversaries of my church, not to mention, family birthdays, anniversaries, and the hundreds of weddings I ’ ve photographed. Indeed, I have been molded by, and blessed by, the work it takes, and the joy it is, to celebrate something worth celebrating. When we were in school, history was not a subject I liked. I went to college to be an English teacher. Very wisely, Bluefield State required us to have a minor. I was always an “ average ’ student. I was not smart enough to major in the sciences, mathematics, or fine arts, but anyone could handle social studies, so I reasoned, and I prayed I would never have to teach it. From the very beginning, World History would be what I was “ assigned ” as a teacher. It took me several years to really appreciate and love history – and realize what history really is -- a collection of great stories, with intriguing characters, a twisting plot, enthralling settings, and of course, great conflict. How can you not love a great story? What follows in this book are bits and pieces of great stories from you -- 79 of our classmates. I was delighted to read each of these, and honestly, a bit disappointed that some from our class did not contribute. Like some of you, I never left the area. I have come to sincerely love this place, especially the kind individuals who live here, and our wonderful “ Four Seasons ” weather that never seems to get above 90 degrees for free lemonade. As we look back on it, growing up in “ Almost Heaven ” during the late 1950’ s and ‘60 s was a pretty neat time to be a kid. Wasn ’ t it? Oh, the joys of recess, having our teachers read a book to us after lunch, watching Saturday morning cartoons, playing outside. The list is long and wonderful, isn ’ t it? I ’ m sure our parents worried and wondered about us being teenagers in the ‘70 s, as our hair grew longer, if you were a guy, and your beautiful long straight hair got layered, if you were a girl. And oh, how our fashions reflected the times! How interesting to see bell bottom jeans back in style! I honestly never thought that would happen. Several years ago, someone shared this profound statement with me, “ The days are long, but the years are short. ” Indeed. Questions like -- Would our kids ever be out of diapers? Can we really afford this 30 - year mortgage? How will we ever pay for college? Will I be able to afford retirement? -- seemed to be bigger than life in an earlier chapter of life. Layne Smith Ferguson 40 Southern Key, Moneta, Virginia 24121 Lcferguson@Carilionclinic.org (540) 521 - 0184 May 31 I graduated from Radford University in 1979. I then started my accounting career in healthcare at Community Hospital of Roanoke Valley. Except for two short diversions at other healthcare systems, my entire career has been with Community Hospital and the system they merged with, Carilion Clinic. I have been in several areas of Carilion besides Accounting including Human Resources and Decision Support, and I am currently in Health Analytics working from home for the last five years. I live at Smith Mountain Lake with my husband of 31 years. Although this seems quite sedate, which it is, one of the more interesting parts of my life started at age 48 when I started running and then moved to doing races. My best times were 10 years into the running at age 58. Longest races were half marathons. Fast forward 10 more years and at nearly 68, I still run 25 miles a week, but quite a bit slower and seem to have aches and pains that never quite go away. But I will continue as long as I can. Looking forward to the reunion. I guess since I am the one putting this together, I give myself permission to ramble and reminisce.

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