I have had a truly lovely weekend seeing my old friends from my hometown. I had a chance to visit with a whole group of folks I don’t often see as well as a few people I have gotten to know via the Internet. I also got to spend some quality time with a few of my closer friends, which is always a treat. If I had to sum up the experience with one word I would pick connection.
I have a real connection to each of these individuals by virtue of our shared early life experience. We all know how good those yeast rolls smelled that were baked in the Bailey Inglish lunchroom kitchen every school day, and how much fun it was to head for the playground at recess to jump rope or play chase. Most of us held hands with someone of the opposite sex for the first time while watching a movie at the American theater then graduated to some serious necking later on at the Bonham drive in. Almost all of us have sat in a car with our friends at the root beer stand at one time or other devouring Frito pies, which were washed down with cold root beer served in frosty mugs. Friday football games; pep rallies; favorite teachers; childhood pranks; first kisses, dates, disappointments, successes, opportunities all were part of our collective experience and cemented time, place and people into a shared past that is precious and irreplaceable.
Now we are all older and wiser and perhaps more appreciative of our shared version of a good old fashioned childhood filled with bicycles, baseball and a level of freedom that today might be considered irresponsible.
We were lucky to have grown up in such a time and place. It has shaped a whole generation of good citizens who do their best to live worthwhile lives. Our little town provided us with that opportunity and this weekend I once again saw evidence of the benefits of growing up in such an environment.
I am proud to call Bonham my home and these people my friends. We are a good bunch, each and everyone. Not perfect, but willing to give life our best. That is a fine legacy.
Thank you, my friends.