THE OLD BOY’S STILL GOT IT

Meet Stan Wilson.  89 years young with a memory, sadly, better than mine.  He was “Mr. Wilson,” in our  youth, never Stan to his face.  But, now that we’re all near geezers ourselves, we allow ourselves a little familiarity.  He’s Stan now, with as much affection today as we had respect back then.  Stan was our honors English teacher at Thomas Downey High in Modesto for our sophomore and junior years in (ouch) 1960-1962.  To a man, and woman, we all rate him as the most influential teacher of our lives.  We didn’t just read literature in his class; he taught us to write with clarity (this blog notwithstanding), to think critically, and to act as civil human beings (mostly).  We all recognize that we have applied his teachings throughout our careers and lives.  We are incredibly glad that we got the chance to tell him so.

Thanks to Patty and Merry as organizers, and Consuelo and Bob as our long-suffering and ultra-gracious hosts, many of the “gang” got together at a mini-reunion in Modesto this Saturday.  Short notice meant a number of the group weren’t able to make it, but we had a party of twenty show up.  They hadn’t all arrived yet for this shot.

Yikes!  The gray brigade!  For Modesto in August, we really got lucky.  Barely 80 degrees, light breeze.  Couldn’t have been better.  The plantings throughout C&B’s back yard are lush and tropical.  We could have been at a resort.  (OK, now can we come back next year?)

The reason this get-together was so special is that we had “lost” Stan for the last 40 years.  No one had had any contact with him, and he had moved on for several careers, a marriage, and multiple locales.  We’ve had these mini-reunions off and on for decades, and Stan’s name always came up in the “I wonder whatever happened to . . .” musings.  We tried locating him by calling around this area and in Santa Cruz (his last known location) to all the S. Wilson’s, etc., but no luck.  When the internet came around we tried Googling, but no joy.  By chance, last summer we had a gathering, and just before it there was an article in the Modesto Bee about a 70th reunion of Modesto High grads.  There were only three, and one was named Stanley Wilson!  Bob saw the article, used totally illegal means at his disposal to try to locate him, and got a number in Turlock, a town just south of Modesto.  Throughout the night of that reunion we tried to call him, but no answer.  The next day, Loni and I drove to his address, found it shut tight, but kept asking and eventually tracked him down in a nursing rehabilitation facility.  Since then, he’s had a stream of calls and visits from the group, but it took until now to get a party together to celebrate his upcoming 89th birthday in September.  Do you think he was having a good time?

 

The T-shirt was put together by Claudia who, unfortunately, was in the wilds of Washington at this time.  But she had visited Stan earlier this summer, along with Patty and Merry.  Keith stunned the crowd with the news that the Pope himself had recognized Stan’s invaluable contributions to setting us on the straight and narrow, and presented him with the proof.

The students and their mentor.  Those tags have our high school senior yearbook photos.  Nothing’s changed that I can see.  L to R, for when Mom gets to view this:  Lee, Patty, Tom, Me, Will, Keith, Mark, Merry (standing), Barbara, Jim, and Bob.  And, of course, Stan!

Now, this is my blog, after all, so you know there’s gotta be a food report.  Calling Michelin!  Get some stars over here.

Thanks to C&B for the grilled meats, and to everyone else for the scrumptious sides.  Plenty of wine was brought and consumed.  I didn’t even have to drink the cheapo that I dragged in.  Thanks, gang!

Stan was on a short leash by the rehab facility after his escape last year (aided by, hmmm, now who was that?), so we had to get him back reasonably early.  He needs some help walking now, and we scooted him around in the wheelchair when we could.  Knowing his sweet tooth from examining his refrigerator last year (appalling), Loni had baked him some chocolate chip cookies which she gave him as he was leaving.  He had barely fastened his seat belt before he got the tin open.  Hey, he’s entitled.

 

All too often, we leave behind those who meant so much to us in our formative years without so much as a thank you or second thought, both in our eagerness to get on with the next stage of our lives and in our ignorance then of just how much we actually were using what we had been taught.  How lucky we are to be able to tell Stan after all these years how much he really meant to us.  It’s never too late.  Keep on trucking, Mr. Wilson!