By DONALD R. SERFASS

dserfass@tnonline.com

It was an education and a thrill to be part of a golden anniversary gala last Saturday.

I learned that a 50-year high school reunion is like no other.

Everything has changed since leaving Tamaqua High School, where I was a member of the largest class in school history.

In 1973, we were seniors on the eve of graduation. Today, we’re seniors redefining maturity.

Many are retired. Others are empty nesters. The kids are grown and gone. Parents and other family members deceased.

Life has changed. The world has evolved. In many ways, we’re starting anew.

Most, it seems, are divorced, widowed or separated. In some cases, never married.

The majority of attendees arrived alone or maybe with other classmates.

I saw an online article in Lifestyle magazine where writer Elizabeth Dunkel said something profound.

“You should go to your 50th reunion for the simple fact and joy that you’re still alive. It’s an honor and a privilege to be able to attend. Being alive is the point: it’s everything.”

I couldn’t agree more.

Remember how you had a close friend in high school? Or maybe you were lucky enough to have a few?

Well, I had Tom and Bonnie, both from my west Tamaqua neighborhood. Two of the most gifted people I ever knew. She was a prodigy in instrumental music. He, a master of all things art. Together, we were the Three Musketeers, joined in a bond of friendship.

Sadly, I lost them in 2014. They died seven months apart. Both in their late 50s. Far too young. To this day, I struggle over it.

There are others, too.

Our reunion mailing list contains names and addresses of 294 classmates. But 58 are deceased. Several others disappeared into the cosmos. We don’t know where they are.

And that’s another reality of life. Some of our friends simply vanish.

So I understand when somebody advises me to go to my reunion and enjoy.

Don’t get me wrong. We don’t attend class reunions because high school was perfect. Far from it.

For most, high school was a time of ups and downs. There were positive experiences and negative.

Sometimes things made sense. Other times, it was just plain wacky.

Fifty years ago, I had the honor to be voted king of the senior prom.

It was a special feeling to be crowned by popular teacher and baseball coach Durbin Wagner.

The queen was Izumi Sawada, who wore a ceremonial kimono.

She left for Japan a few days later. I never saw her again. I hope she is well.

And I just learned unsettling news. Coach Wagner is gone. He died in July, age 85.

He was a positive influence and inspiration in the lives of many.

An Army veteran who earned a doctorate, Wagner coached and officiated not just in baseball, but football and basketball.

In later years, he moved away. I still have his photo. But I never had an opportunity to tell him how much he was admired and respected.

Why do we wait to do these things?

The truth is, he is the one who deserved to wear a crown.

My classmates have similar experiences from the “good old days.” Both good and bad.

Maybe they liked high school. Or maybe not. It varies. We’re products of circumstances.

But all of us have one thing in common. We spent our formative years together.

We shared the torture and joy of adolescence. And then we journeyed.

Life threw us its best curves and we survived.

We’re still here. Battling the odds.

And somewhere, I hope, Coach Wagner is smiling.

For me, the reunion was a precious weekend spending time with life’s warriors. I felt honored to be with them.

They asked if I would raise a glass and propose a toast.

I gladly did. I offered a toast to their friendship and the unbreakable bonds of 1973.

After half a century, every class member is golden.

And each person sparkled. Just like a crown.