Going Home - Class of '66

(July 2006)

My friend and colleague, Richard Shackley, told me a touching story a couple weeks ago.

In 1973, Richard served in the Army in Viet Nam. The war was winding down, but the body count kept increasing. “My job was what they called ‘stuffing envelopes’. Do you know what that means?” Richard asked. “You had a desk job?” I replied. “No, my job was to take the personal effects (rings, watches, dog tags and wallets) from the bodies of our deceased soldiers, place them in a box so their families would get them, and then zip up the body bag.”

After a few moments of silence, Richard knelt down on one knee and said, “But you know what, Bill? I always knelt down like this, placed my hand on the soldier’s hand and said, ‘You are going home, now, soldier. You’re going home!’”

Tears started streaming down both our faces.

Maybe it was hearing Richard’s story just before leaving for Mississippi that made me appreciate the trip back home all the more.

The trip was grueling in that Anita and I drove from San Diego to Yazoo City and back in less than a week. Yikes, that’s 3,600 miles!

The YCHS Class of ’66 Reunion was wonderful; the largest attendance we have ever had. (I still think some of my classmates sent their grandparents in their place. There was a family resemblance, but these were not the handsome and pretty young people I graduate with in 1966.)

Actually, most everyone looked very well. I had hoped to lose 50 pounds for the reunion, and only had 53 pounds to go by the time I got to Old Yazoo.

What a difference 40 years makes! And the family reunion was equally rewarding.

I saw my Mother, two brothers and two sisters, and an extended family of about forty who gathered at Mother’s home in Yazoo City on Sunday.

Having lived in one place all my “growing up years” was (and continues to be) a blessing. Call it the “privilege of place” that fewer and fewer people know in our increasingly mobile society. Like an anchor for a ship, Yazoo City remains an anchor in my life, no matter how far away I move. Like the center point on a compass, I can always return to the starting point to gain new perspectives for where I began, where I am, and where I am headed.

As I said to my classmates, “We may leave Yazoo City, but Yazoo City will never leave us.”

Richard’s soldiers, who paid the ultimate sacrifice, returned home for the final time without the luxury of being able to reestablish ties with family and friends. Since we never know when our final trip will be, we should never take for granted the opportunities to go back home. And if we have the privilege of place, loving families and childhood friends, we should try to “stay together for the rest of the journey”.