Reunion of both a town and a time
by "Grid"

What kind of reunion are you going to? A high school reunion? No. A college reunion? No, let me see, how can I explain this? It's a town reunion. What? You mean a whole town is reuniting? Yes.

And so Redbeard and Mo, Little and Big Roys, Hooge, Mash, Albo, Albear and the like showed up once again to see who else couldn't pass up the opportunity to hang out with all of us then 20-something folks who somehow managed to land in the Fraser Valley in the 60s and 70s.

It wasn't Lord of the Flies, but we were a disparate group of young adults casting off the discipline of parents, school and city jobs to work and play at life somewhere over the rainbow. And what a playground. We had left Planet Earth. Oh yes, a few natives were encountered in this garden in the rough but, by and large, we were accepted even as our ranks swelled (they had no choice). We shared deep snow, bitter cold, mud season mass exodus, bright sun and full moons, laughs, love and tears, laughs and love again. We took over the mountains to carve our turns and pitch our tents, the roads to ride and rally 'round our colorful aspen. For work, we manned the mountain, tended bar, flipped pancakes and burgers and served them up, too. We built buildings and businesses and kept them clean -- whatever it took to survive and have fun.

Thank heaven, after upward of three decades, we all can still find the mountains, the forests, the streams and the bars and restaurants where we congregated and reunited. Deno's and The Last Waltz, both still in very capable, long-time local hands and a new meeting place, our Fraser Valley Sports Fields catered by the Barnes' of Grand Lake, all served up great food and libations. And I heard many folks found their way back up into the hills.

Besides the inevitable tell-tale reminiscing (nametags facilitated instant recognition and immediate connection), conversation, undoubtedly influenced by a wider experience of people, places and time, was more esoteric and pragmatic. We must finally have grown up in spite of our stay in Never-Never land -- even Singley, our own Peter Pan and Bob Davis -- why, he is 70-something and still digs taking pictures of the ladies. (Davis is packing a digital camera now, much more efficient.)

Kudos and well wishes to all who stayed, left, came back and still recognize how special and grand is our valley whether they could be here or not. Although many more folks are moving in and it seems our big secret has finally been irreversibly uncovered, they can never know all we feel because we are the ones who have been there and done that.