Looking back

We drank a toast to innocence;

We drank a toast to now

 And tried to reach beyond the emptiness

But neither one knew how. . .

                         -Dan Fogelberg

As I listened to this song today my mind was drawn to a group of people that formed a huge part of my life, the United Township High School Class of 1971. We were a mixed bag, as any other group would be. We had the usual assortment of those who you just knew would be wildly successful. We had those who you knew would get by OK. We had the usual assortment of alcoholics, druggies and other ne'er-do-wells, too.

One top-ten student is now affiliated with the Department of Engineering at an Ivy League university. (You expected?) Another is now a pastor. Two of the bunch went on to become sportswriters - enough to suggest that UTHS had a pretty good English department in those days. There are three attorneys that I know of - maybe more - and we have invaded the executive suites of a local insurance company. We have at least one dentist, although I don't know of any doctors (I don't count chiropractors as doctors.) A president of a tech-oriented company in suburban Chicago is one of ours. One of ours teaches special ed kids. I'm especially proud of him; I have a special needs daughter.

Doubtless the most well-known of our crew was Spike O'Dell, who went into radio. When he retired, it was from the position of host of the morning drive-time show on WGN Radio, Chicago. He retired, I heard, to a place by a golf course in a state that I have sworn to avoid at all costs. Spike, in his early years in radio, also kept a job as a security guard at the Farmall works - just down the street from where I was a security guard at the Deere Plow and Planter Works. I don't think he ever knew that.

Society at large saw a lot of changes starting about the time we graduated. The Quad Cities was no exception. For most of us the life course we expected was something like: graduate. Maybe do a stint in the military. Go to Blackhawk College, pick up some vocational skills. Go to work at Deere - either the Plow and Planter Works or Harvester Works - or maybe IH or Farmall, or maybe Case or Cat. All had large factories around here. Or, you might go to work at the Rock Island Arsenal. Now, Deere's Plow and Planter Works and Harvester Works are much smaller than they were. Case, IH, Farmall and Cat no longer have a presence in the QC. They've been replaced by - gambling boats. In between was a terrible recession in the area for most of the decade of the '80s.

That's progress. Or, should it be, That's progress????

That change is one thing that makes my reflections rather somber. I was, during this period, spending about two-thirds of my life trying to drink and otherwise drop myself into oblivion. I have, since then, hung onto sobriety and worked at building a life that is at least somewhat respectable. I think I came out OK. Maybe barely OK, maybe only OK by the skin of my teeth - but OK. If you'd seen me in about 1985 or so, you'd have not seen any OKness in my future.

Another thing that makes me reflective is a Facebook page: United Township High School Memorial Page. I am thankful to the creator of the page, although it saddens me greatly. One of the things that saddens me isn't specific to the class of '71. It's how many of the UT folks we've lost are younger than the '71 cohort. Many - way too many - were lots younger.

But for '71: I look at a list of those we've lost. There are 25 names. I remember some of them from having participated - not well, but participated - in athletics with them at various times. I remember one who was a lab partner with me. He was a bright kid, and was barely more than a kid when he was killed in a vehicle accident. I remember one who was such a talented basketball player in 7th-9th grades that we just knew he'd go on, get his scholarship, and do well. I did meet him after high school, in the state penitentiary at Joliet. I was guard. He was inmate. Now he's gone. I remember almost everybody on the list.

 People who observe other people's religious behavior have noted that most churches lose a significant number of their people between the ages of about 18 to, maybe, 30. They just drift away. Sometime, about at age 30, they start to return. I've wondered why this happens. I think that, at about 18, the person is convinced they're invulnerable - perfect - all-knowing - and, free from parents. But, sometime or other, in one way or another, life will deal to you something that makes you know how vulnerable you really are, how little you really know, how big the mysteries really are. Birth is one such consideration. Why does one couple have a beautiful, "normal" child, while the next has a special needs child, and yet another, who want a child, can't have any at all? Why is it that the latter couple are wonderful, loving people who would never harm a child in any way, while an abusive family right across the street has seven kids? There's no answer that science can provide.

The existence of radical, personal evil is such a consideration. What would convince a McVeigh, a Bin Laden,  that human life has no value whatsoever? Psychology and sociology have much to say about "how" - but nothing to say about "why?"

And premature, tragic death. We know about the aging process, and science can tell us all about the various disease processes. But we want the "Why?" Why is there anyone from the Class of '71 among the deceased? Why anybody younger, for heaven's sake? Science has nothing to say to this. 

And so we are drawn back to faith, often by crisis. Faith doesn't tell us why either - but it does point us to One who loves all, does have a plan, and who does know the Why. Even if She can't share with us yet.

I'd love your thoughts.

Thanks for hanging out for a few!