This morning I had coffee with someone I had not seen for – deep breath here – 36 years. Dear gods. Yeah. Someone I went to high school with . In Connecticut, roughly 3,000 and a lifetime away. It was terrifically enjoyable, not nearly long enough (2 ½ hours) and a story that is one of those “no no no, that doesn’t happen” coincidence mills.

Many of you know that I do volunteer work at the office of a shelter for battered women called New Beginnings. Back in 1976 or so, when things like New Beginnings were being created a few amazing people got together and created it; it was what you would imagine: frantic, overworked and intensely committed women trying to find resources and help for a very real, very hidden issue that was just entering peoples’ consciousness. And one of the people trying to pull it off was Patti. And her mother-in-law would from time to time give something to the shelter – via her daughter-in-law. And got her friends to do the same. So recently, someone said “here a donation” and Patti, instead of saying “couldn’t you just send it yourself, I’ve got enough to do?” went to pass it on, realized she didn’t have the address (she’d been dropped from the mailing list or something) so she called the office, explained that she had this check to send on, and during the conversation, mentioned her involvement in the birth of NB waaaaaaay back then. The person who got the phone call was so thrilled to encounter someone who was there at the beginning; after all, NB is having its big 30th anniversary whoo-haa this year, so she checked to see if we had her on the mailing list and sent her the most recent newsletter. That is to say THE newsletter; the one with the “volunteer spotlight” article. About me.

Patti saw the piece, noted the name and thought “hey, I knew her, didn’t I?” and dug out her high school yearbook. Yeah, she has hers too. And there I was. Looking very much like myself, I might add. So she contacted NB again and asked to be put in touch with me if that was okay. It was more than okay. We didn’t know each other well, but I remembered her positively. And when I dug out MY copy of my high school yearbook, it was as I remembered. Patti was the quenn of the Junior Prom. And, as I said to Stu and later to her in email (which phew, she found funny” my reaction was “she was the prom queen. But I LIKED her.”

1969 was an odd year for Junior Proms I think, as it was an odd year to be a high school student. It was post-Chicago. It was moratorium march time, but pre-Watergate. But it was still West Hartford Connecticut; green lawns and football games, going steady and wearing the right shoes. And there was still the prom. But while I tend to think of “prom queens” as being the ultimate of – that dreaded phrase – the POPular girls, that’s pretty unfair, I imagine. At least at my Junion Prom, the line-up was pretty interesting. Two of the female “attendants” were two of the first women students at Yale. At least one was Jewish (she’s the one with the great black dress – it was still pastels for us, but things were changing. Stu said, looking at her yearbook shot, “she looks like she wrote poetry.” Honey,” I replied – I think wistfully but maybe not - “we ALL wrote poetry.”

Patti was the prom queen, and yes, she was a cheerleader. She was also in Latin class with me. She was also in MATH CLUB – she was a math and science geek, she said. And in student government. She was one of those. And completely likable.

I was taken aback by her contacting me only because I was never sure (as I’ve talked about) how I was perceived in high school. I had friends, yes; now we’d be called the geeks or whatever. We were, I guess, the brains – the newspaper, honor society, and yeah, yearbook folks. I wasn’t; I worked after school so didn’t do a lot of club stuff, but I was part of the smart crowd, if I had a crowd. But it wasn’t the POPular kids – that thing that’s kept me back from going to reunions or searching out my class on the net, in fear that most of those who would be interested in reaching out would BE the jocks and the ones who, well, had a good time in high school.

And here it is, 2006 and we have so much more to talk about, we barely started today. I’m sure there are great platitudes to be offered and deep thoughts to be pronounced, but I’m not coming up with any at the moment. It’s just enough to say this is cool and I had such a nice time catching up with Patti. From long ago and far away.