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. Thirtieth Class Reunion: first row (standing): Karen Anthony, Gina Hicks, Nancy Baldwin, Debbie Cook, Patricia Graham, Melinda Surway, Linda Tabor, Monika Gray, Beverly Lester, Melva Lynn Shell, Terri Moore, Teresa Hill; second row: Sheila Hanley, Alta Lanier, Charlotte White, Robin Battles, Dorcas Aliff, Sabrina Eastham, Debbie Harry, Toni Spoloric, LaDonne Bowles, Sarah Hood, Marty Gazaway, Retha Smith, Gigi Gazaway, Bobbi Hunter, Debbie Patterson; third row: Sherry Cox, Cindy Freeman, Kathy Shoda; fourth row: Larkin Rucker, Ran Henry, Guy Kiely, Carrie Shott, Steven Platnick, David Johnson, Bud Clapp, Mark Pinkard, Ronnie Perdue, John Hyder, Steve Dalton, David Kersey, Keith Mitchell, Mike Vollmer, Todd Smith, Donnie Quesenberry; back row: Vance Ross, Ron Johnson, Tommy Johnson, Donald Poe, Johnny Francisco, Tim Kish, David Walton, Charles Thomas, David Orander, Derrick Felts, David Ledgerwood, Robert Simmons, Joe Simon, Mark Browder, Tim Noel, Mike Monaco Reunion venue Bluefield Country Club, Bluefield, West Virginia I guess since I am the one putting this together, I give myself permission to ramble and reminisce.

Since people have changed over the years, we may have mislabeled or omitted someone. If that is the case, we ’ re sorry.

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