Walking with ghosts

The last time I saw most of these people was 50 years ago when we left school. Many left in 1969 at the end of their 4th year which you could do then. Most stayed on for a further year to do our O levels and CSEs.

Maurice, kneeling in the centre (not the smallest kneeler) lead the campaign to get as many of us together as possible. Some have moved away, others untraceable, some sadly died, some who promised to come didn’t turn up and some just couldn’t make it.

This is my first ever and possibly my last reunion as I can’t think of any more that might crop up.

It was a very good affair, nothing elaborate, just chaps all of a certain age mostly seeing one another for the first time since puberty. Where we were all once children now we have grandchildren of that age. Some were instantly recognisable others had changed so much. I was in the former category owing to my height. Some were still working, others long retired. All had had interesting careers and lives. Fifty years of time passed in a flash! All ordinary blokes from an extraordinary Secondary Modern School in Wellington, Shropshire who’ve made a life for themselves and their families.

I’m staying overnight with my cousin, of whom I have a few in Wellington, traveling back by train tomorrow. Odd isn’t it. I’ve been in Kent over 40 years, twice as long as I lived in Shropshire year there remains a strong feeling of home about the place.

I had the feeling too, that I was walking with ghosts to and from the reunion along the road which I walked countless times from home into town. It’s where I grew up, where I lived with my parents, where I knew the people who lived in the houses. All long since passed on and yet, all still living in those houses in my mind. Lots of changes but lots of things don’t change. Everything changes but nothing changes!