by - Lindsay Holliday  

Saturday,  April 24th, 2004

- It was a BEAUTIFUL Day in the neighborhood -

Picnic tables had signs for 5, 10, 15, etc... reunions.

We met and ate on the quad. Perfect weather.

Delicious clean air.

Breath in the deep greens of Spring.

The table for Class of 1974 was too sunny, so we switched signs with the empty '69ers' table.  

L-R (Susan and) John "Pat" Ridley , Ed Lovell , Greg Pye, Lindsay Holliday, Ken Williamson, (Sheila and) Rex Patterson

Late arrivals - Jim Clark, Sam Failla, Dave and Val Curreton

Look who just walked up to us and shook our hands and posed for pics ! -Dean Bond Flemming - !!

We could not have been more please if it had been Dooly himself - Dooly did not materialize this year. Though we did see some t-shirts - very casual - with the words "Dooly's Dolls"

We '74's were the last group to vacate our anniversary table which we periodically moved to maintain a perfect shade, most pleasant.

Two pick-up trucks politely picked up every other single chair and table around us - before we even acknowledged their presence and finally surrendered our table. We moved away with a graceful hesitation - very Southern.

Some might almost say we were passive aggressive. {Yanks}

But we would not surrender our flag... !!!...{place-card poster sign}

Our sign of the times.

The sign of '74

A lazy loitering tour of campus

in front of Stone Dorm

Air conditioning in the Cafeteria felt real good.  Was it always air conditioned?

A piano moment.   I play a mellow medley of - Spirit of Life (Unitarian hymn #123), JS Bach/Gournod's - Ave Maria, and Layla  (Eric Clapton)

We stroll down the path to the Confederate Cemetery -

Memories of herbal sacraments... and celebrations... stories and myths and laughter...

Chilling out and watering up in the Student Center Lounge....

A new lake?   On the way to the hotel in Covington.

Where do we want to eat?

Henderson's !

12 miles South of Covington towards Jackson, Ga.

Dill pickled slaw, Sweet tea, Catfishes wild and/or farm raised.

We part our ways.

Nostalgia slows my trip home.

Heartstrings stretch. Tensioning like rubber bands to pull my car back .

5 miles further south I turn left on Newton Factory Bridge Rd.

At the very bottom of the road, I stop to take pics at

"The River"

Dusk.

No other cars.

The only sounds are of incessant waters washing over the shoals.

Some things change. The bridge is new concrete.

New signs describe fees and rules for a "civilized" park.

On the way home, my windows down, I breath in deep the cool evening air scented with Wisteria, Honeysuckle, wildflowers, hay fields, tilled earth and mown grass.

For an hour, a fresh multitude of soft Spring nightbugs splatter on my windshield like a slow drizzle of rain.  My vision ahead starts to blur as through tears.

More Pics from the Shutterfly album of Val Cureton

http://share.shutterfly.com/action/share/view?i=EeEMWbFo3aNXNg&open=1&sm=0&sl=0

If I have seen further than most, it is because I stand on the shoulders of giants.   - Sir Isaac Newton