My Seventy-Fifth Anniversary

I received an email from the alumni office of my high school, the Episcopal Academy (EA), inviting me to a reunion of the Southern California alumni. It would happen in Santa Monica, on the evening of March 13, 2025.

Suddenly, I realized 2025 is the seventy-fifth anniversary of my graduation from high school. That’s a milestone and certainly worth the drive.

EA is a private prep school founded in 1785 by the Right Reverand William White in downtown Philadelphia.

In 1921, it moved to the suburbs, where the money was and still is. To wit, tuition is now $44,000 a year. It had a large campus, all male, though now it’s co-ed, and it went from preschool through high school.

I came from a different part of town when I entered sixth grade in the fall of 1943. Our family lived in Germantown, a part of Philadelphia that was a transitional area between the White and Black neighborhoods. A Black neighborhood was only a block from my dad’s church. I was in constant conflict with the Black boys. My parents decided I needed to go EA.

Everything there was different. Everyone wore uniforms. The teachers were strict. We had to attend a twenty-minute chapel every morning (which was usually boring). Teachers were called “Master” or “Sir.” Students were addressed by their last name. I was “Aule.” When a master entered the classroom, the students stood. I studied Latin and Greek.

Every student had to participate in a sport in the fall, winter, and spring. I wanted to play football and wrestle and be a baseball catcher. But I had problems. I was a short, fat, roly-poly kid with a big mouth, always last to be chosen. The only thing I excelled at was Saturday detention. During my six years, I hardly missed a Saturday.

My academic record was awful. I graduated number fifty-five in a class of fifty-seven, and under my class photo, no activities were listed.

Why in the world would I want to go and celebrate my seventy-fifth anniversary?

Long story short: by some miracle, I was accepted at Kenyon College in Ohio, and my life changed radically. I was successful academically, on the sports field, and in leadership positions. I attribute all that to the foundation I got from EA but didn’t use while there. EA teachers also taught me critical thinking skills through their weekly essays, which, for me, has been the greatest gift one can have. It guarantees that one will never stop growing, which leads to a fulfilling life.

First, I was still very alive at ninety-three. Second, after I graduated, I blossomed in college. Third, I was bringing my trophy wife of sixty-four years. And fourth, I wanted to see who would show up. I suspected no one from the class of 1950 would since most are dead, but maybe some women, current college students, and alumni who lived in the LA basin would be there.

The drive was easy, even in rush hour traffic. Annie and I were the first there and spoke with the alumni director, a young black woman, preacher’s kid, and graduate of EA. Every person there was interesting. I was proud to be from the EA tradition.

We were almost the last to leave. On the long drive home, I was thankful that we went. Momentarily, I regretted not having taken full advantage of all the teachers and staff who were trying to help when I was at school there, but they gave me strong foundation stones upon which I was able to grow. Above all, they started developing my critical thinking skills, the greatest tool a human being can have if one wants to lead a rich and satisfying life, which I have had.

I’m looking forward to the eighty-fifth anniversary of the class of 1950.

PeaceLoveJoyHopeKindness

Bil

Get my book at Bookshop.org, Barnes & Noble, or Amazon!

P.S. People often ask me provocative questions about current events, both religious and secular. I have found that some of these questions are being asked universally. I’ll be periodically alternating regular articles with one of those questions and my answer. I invite you to send me your question to bilaulenbach@yahoo.com.

Photo by Colin Lloyd on Unsplash