Reflections on Reunion

By Peter Kranstover '73

Since graduating in 1973, I visited Holy Cross only twice, once in 1975 to ask for recommendations for graduate school and again in 2005. On the first trip, Fathers Manning and Harmon accommodated me in Campion Hall, ignoring my late nights and too much beer with old friends still in the area. I felt safe and assured.

The latter trip I made with my daughter, who went away unimpressed, deciding to opt for the less organized and more unpredictable art scene at Virginia Commonwealth University in Richmond.  So, before my knees give out, I wanted to make a reunion and decided on this, the 35th.

A reunion, I discovered, is ultimately a private affair, despite lodging in Mulledy, the hundreds of people, and the somewhat confined feel of the campus.  Private because that’s how Holy Cross is – a contemplative place with pockets around this cantilevered campus, now punctuated by loud greetings of recognition and almost shy, puzzled glances as one strains to bring up a name.  

A 35th reunion means that you can speak confidently, in a context of decades, not years, probably for the first time.  One overheard lines, like, “it was 30 years ago this month that Joe did this,” or, “Bill disappeared,” or, “Jim went to New Zealand,” never to be heard from.  “Hello,” was the first greeting I heard as I made my way to my room, stopping before even getting there and sitting with Joe and Don, classmates then, friends now.

At such a remove from the cloistered days of college, you hope to finally be comfortable enough to forgo the scripted, excited exchanges of family and professional anecdote, avoiding the purposeful badinage and one-upmanship that this competitive life has trained us to do so well.  We are, in any case, to use Prof. George Hampsch’s phrase, “objectively” different people; grey now, slower, a bit heavier, and if not yet wise, certainly well on our way there.

With 35 years separating us, we are approaching a time frame akin to life expectancy in some of the more desperate places of the world.   We compare, if ever so cautiously, the accomplishments of children or the memberships in clubs, using this as a convenient surrogate measure of one’s own responsibility, success and convention. 

Only the bravest and most secure happily note their satisfaction with children whose most notable accomplishments are paying taxes and otherwise avoiding arrest.  They, foregoing any smugness of the more financially and religiously assured, are perhaps the most interesting and compelling, never giving up nor losing hope that the one “project” child we all have, or certainly know, will eventually find their proper niche.

In 48 hours, one talked about love and death, success and failure, marriage and divorce, sex, hetero and homo, alcoholism and sobriety, war and peace, money, politics, children and the future.  The political positions are remarkably unchanged, but now we can actually sit together at the same table and feel comfortable about it, or at least not uncomfortable.  

I saw Bob Cousy for the first time, delighting in his speech at the Hart Center in front of his yet-unveiled statue and wondered to myself what Holy Cross would do without him or others like him, albeit less well known for their public service and awards.  I concluded that it would do quite well but suffer greatly from not having such a source of felicitous wit and charm.

Leaving Mulledy very early Sunday morning, I knocked lightly on Dan and Joe’s door to bid them well.  Hearing no sound, I noted the uncivilized hour and reconsidered, knowing they could probably survive without seeing me once again.   I picked up a receipt and box for a large anchovy pizza from the night before at the bottom of the stairwell.  I tossed it in the trash and drove down the hill, feeling safe and assured. 

 

If you have a story from Reunion 2008 that you would like us to share, contact the Alumni Office at 508-793-2418 or e-mail alumni@holycross.edu.