To the editor:

Reunions have always been more than just dates on a calendar for me — they’re a chance to walk back into a room and feel like I’m home again. Growing up in Webster City gave me memories that are stitched into who I am: football games under the lights, basketball in a packed gym, cruising Main Street, honking horns at friends, and pulling into the square to see where the night would take us.

When I go to a reunion, I see classmates from every corner of those memories — some I shared chorus with, others I cheered alongside at games, and a few I only knew in passing back then but now feel like old friends. We laugh about the music we danced to at Fuller Hall, talk about tenderloins and coney dogs that will never be topped, and remember those who are no longer with us.

What always strikes me is how the years soften everything. The cliques are gone. The awkwardness of youth has been replaced with kindness, appreciation, and the simple joy of seeing each other again. Reunions remind me that no matter where life has taken us — whether across the country or halfway around the world — our shared roots run deep.

Just my thoughts

Mike Bashford (class of 1967)

Webster City