Admiral King Class of 1977 – 40th Reunion

From left, Jane (Kretovics) Stephanchick, George Vida,
Diane (Corrao) Flock, Debra (DiFrancesco) Miadock,
Pat (Derrer) Resor, me, and Karen (Satterfield) Amormino
(Photo courtesy Debi Kretovics)

I would be remiss if I didn’t mention my Admiral King High School Class of 1977 40th Reunion, which took place Friday night down at the Black River.

Our reunion committee did a good job of organizing the event, which shared its location with the traditional Friday night Rockin’ on the River concert. Although turnout was a little low for a class of more than four hundred members, a good time was had by all who attended.

Although I was a little nervous when I headed over to the reunion tent, my fears were soon allayed. The committee members immediately made each returning classmate feel welcome, and it was only a matter of minutes before everyone was catching up with what’s been going on in our lives and our hometown since the last reunion in 2007.

It’s amazing how much our Lorain school days of the 60s and 70s left an imprint on our lives that has not faded after all these years. Most of us immediately recognized each other; we knew where each other lived back then, what neighborhood it was, with whom we walked to school, who we played with, etc.

Will today’s students be able to say that someday? I doubt it. School is the glue that holds a community together and creates lifelong bonds.

Although all of us at the reunion went to Admiral King High School, many of us had attended kindergarten at Charleston together as well. Even more of us shared Masson as both our elementary and junior high school. Now all of those schools are gone.

But the memories linger on.

There were a few funny moments for me at the reunion. I really disappointed one of my classmates, who was surprised that I wasn’t a doctor or lawyer and kept going on and on about it. I finally had to tell him that I was sorry to disappoint him, but if he kept talking like that I was either going to have to go home and hit the bottle, or jump off the Bascule Bridge.

Another classmate pointed out that I looked like I was perpetually twelve years old. He meant it as a compliment and I accepted it as one. But it’s easy to look roughly the same when you still have all your hair (grey as it may be), and haven’t grown a beard or handlebar mustache.