WANT TO ADD SOMETHING
TO YOUR SITE?
WHAT'S HAPPENIN' WITH YOU THESE DAYS?
HOW'S YOUR LIFE BEEN?
A POEM? A STORY?
SEND IT TO ME, ANNE,
AT firstname.lastname@example.org, and I'll happily publish it
for all to see!
of all, I would like to thank those that put the reunion togeher. I think that a great time was had by all, at
least it seemed that way from the comments that I heard. Kudos to you. Also, on my way out of Bend on
Sunday, I went to see Glen Kinney and had a wonderful conversation with him. He looks great (83 years young). He
is living at Stone Lodge Retirement Home, if anyone would to see him. Looking forward to the next one.
Not sure where to post something like this, so here will have to do. I just
want to say what a wonderful, wonderful opportunity this has been for me to see so many of my old grade school and high school friends from Bend. I've been thoroughly enjoying this weekend and seeing again a
bunch of really fabulous folks. My years in Bend have been such an incredibly strong influence on my psyche all these
many years, and it would never have been such without all of you. Wasn't Bend a wonderful place to grow up?
you all so very much for lettimg me be a part of this celebration. And it's not over yet! There's still the picnic
tomorrow! Hot dog!
Anne Crenshaw Morin
PLEASE NOTE: ANNE CRENSHAW MORIN WANTS TO SINCERELY APOLOGIZE FOR
PRONOUNCING "LAVA" INCORRECTLY AT THE REUNION, APPARENTLY OFFENDING MANY OF YOU. (YOU'D THINK SHE'D HAVE FIGURED THIS
PRONUNCIATION OUT BY NOW, ESPECIALLY SINCE SHE TAUGHT ENGLISH AS A SECOND LANGUAGE FOR MANY YEARS, BUT SHE SURELY DIDN'T KNOW
HER VIRGINIA ROOTS WERE SHOWING WHEN SHE ASKED YOU ALL TO FOLLOW HER LEAD DURING PICTURE TAKING TIME,
PRONOUNCING "LAVA" WITH THE "AH" SOUND,
THE NON-BEND WAY!)
(BY THE WAY, ANNE IS NOT A HICK FROM WEST VIRGINIA, AS WAS REPORTED; SHE IS FROM
THE STATE OF VIRGINIA AND PROUD OF IT!)
PLEASE KNOW THAT ANNE WAS VERY GRATEFUL TO YOU ALL FOR INVITING HER TO YOUR REUNION,
EVEN THOUGH SHE DIDN'T ACTUALLY GRADUATE FROM BEND SENIOR HIGH SCHOOL. SHE HAS NEVER FORGOTTEN THE HAPPY TIMES SHE HAD
IN BEND, NOR THE FRIENDSHIPS AND POSITIVE INFLUENCE HER YEARS THERE BROUGHT TO HER LIFE. IT WAS GREAT TO SEE EVERYONE!
Lava Bears! I'm almost packed and ready to make the trip. Many of you
may not remember me, but those who really grew up in Bend might remember me. I'm very excited to see my old friends.
Hope those of you who think I'm an "interloper" won't be offended. I will be at the "official" hotel starting Thursday.
Stop by for the "cocktail hour"!
I celebrated our 47th anniversary in June. Have two daughters, and
two grandchildren. Have lived in Madras for over 35 years. We both work part time and enjoy it. Do some
traveling-hopefully more when we decide to completely retire.
years of marriage to the love of my life in April. We have four great kids, 10 grandkids, and one great grandson.
We have been back in Redmond five yars now after leaving Tumalo in 1994 for Salem. Kids talked us into moving home in
TO Kathy Kinney Evans:
I lost you! What's your e-mail address? I'll send you the letter for the reunion. I've
got you and Connie R. beat - have been married 50 years this year, with 4 children, 7 grandchildren, and 5 greats. I
thought this was only for OLD people!!! Please e-mail email@example.com
by: Robyn Sarah
The yearbooks are out today, with the ink
barely dry on their gleaming pages,
the faint puke-smell of the new bindings.
On the bus, shagged and curly heads converge over
the disappointing spread of candid shots
on centre facing pages - random snaps
where everyone who matters is blurred or too tiny
or was looking the wrong way when the shutter clicked,
and after they've each checked out their own
and each other's mug shots, and those of an acknowledged
hunk or two ('Too bad guys, doesn't he look
retarded in that picture?') you can almost
feel the thought rise: Is that it then?
four years reduced to this thin, already-
thumbed album of postage-stamp grins
and badly cropped halftones in a grey collage
of moments no one remembers?
Tomorrow they'll tote it back to school though,
to whip from their graffitied bags
in the mandatory feeding frenzy
for autographs — everyone's, please.
Now and only for a second
is let-down palpable in the air,
like a half-formed bubble wobbling
on the wand, then sucked back.
In a moment they'll swarm to their feet
and pull the bell (each at least once)
as they stream for the door, flashing shoulder-
freckles, wrist-bangles, navels like thumbprints in
June-white midriffs, damp wisps at the nape
wafting back a fine vapour
of girl sweat and spray cologne.
“Annual” by Robyn Smith
from A Day’s Grace: Poems 1997-2002
Contributed by Anne Crenshaw (Morin)