Speaking of high school–we were, right?–I was looking at this photo of my senior class:
and I was kind of proud that I could still name 48 of the 60 people pictured, since I can’t remember the names of most of my neighbors. I know our graduating class had more than 60 people, so I got out my yearbook. That didn’t help, because there are 67 senior portraits and three people listed as not having a photo, which brought the total to 70–and I know we didn’t have that many (it was a small graduating class). Then it occurred to me to wonder: With all these memory albums,
several yearbooks, binders full of photos, booklets, and programs for band contests and concerts, plays, and proms, why do I not have a program for my own graduation? And since I have my mother’s photos and folders full of various family documents, why didn’t she? After all, she photographed practically every hour of that day. It seemed weird that one item was missing.
As I stood in the middle of my house, perplexed, I heard my mother’s voice in my head say, “Check your diploma.”
So I dug that thing out, and sure enough–dammit, she’s right again–tucked behind my diploma, not only did I find my graduation program, but also the bill from when my mother and I were checked out of the hospital four days after my birth. You’ll be relieved to know that it was paid in full–all $7.00. Bless the U.S. Army.
By the way, the program didn’t really clear things up. One person is listed who didn’t graduate (hi–you know who you are, and I still remember the details, and it still sucks) and one person isn’t listed who did graduate (hi–you got in touch with me a few years ago–thanks–and how are you now?). Then there’s someone in the group shot who isn’t in the yearbook, and there are names on the program that I don’t remember and have no photos to match. THIS is why historians have such a bitch of a time compiling accurate records.
But at least it’s on the record that I was worth SEVEN DOLLARS at birth. I wonder how much I’ve depreciated.
ETA in 2022: That program and the bill were STILL tucked behind the diploma. I’d totally forgotten all this. I moved them to one of my photo album/scrapbooks.
no, you’ve only gone up in value! a worthy $7 investment, that by now has multiplied, and then some.
YAY! So maybe…35 x $7? 😉
Interest compounds much more rapidly than that, Becky. By this point, I have no doubt you’re priceless.
Financial genius or flatterer? You be the judge!
You’re so sweet.
It’s easy to put names to members of your graduating class in old photos. Try naming them when you meet them in real life xx years later … and we get together for lunch every other month.
Oh, no. I want them to remember me as I was then, and I will do them the favor of same!
you know i have thought of throwing out my yearbooks.
Don’t do it. Or if you do, you’d better give me the seventh grade one. (I thought you already did it.) DON’T.
might have…
AIIIEEEEE.
Love the white shoes. Such a tribute to the times. But I wonder, why isn’t the stage curtain completely closed? Never noticed it before.
Lynn, I noticed the same thing about the curtain! How many names do you remember from that photo of sixty?
I’m afraid not as many as you. My batting average on names is probably 50%. It was great to see the picture.
Just in case you don’t have it, you might like this one, too. I can name ALL of the Top Ten.
Now this test I can do. I had forgotten that this picture even existed. Thanks for the memory!
You’re welcome. =)