You can go back
by Sandy Weigens

It has been more than three decades since I walked out of Wagar High School as a graduate. It feels strange to count the years out loud. The years seem to have gone quickly, yet in many ways, it doesn't feel like it. I have often wondered what my fellow grads were up to, how their lives have progressed in all this time.

In September of 2001, I saw the video of a West Hill High class reunion. Although I hardly knew a soul at that party, I felt their excitement and wanted to experience that joy for myself. I was stoked. I was ready, not just to go to such a party, but to put one together. There have been a few attempts over the years to hold Wagar reunions, but never one specifically for my year. I felt that the time was right. Wagar's Class of '73 was going to have its own reunion. And it was going to be the adventure of a lifetime.

I figured that the logical time to have the reunion would be 2003, the thirtieth anniversary of our graduation and two whole years away. From what I heard from organizers of other reunions, that was just about enough time to start planning and to get in touch with my fellow Wagarites.

Finding the grads of 1973 would be tough. In my day, Wagar had a population of over 1,700. My class alone had nearly 350 grads, most of whom were probably scattered to the four corners of the world. Many must have taken the 401, back in the 80's.

I dusted off my copy of the "Prelude", my old Wagar yearbook. This was to become an indispensable tool to establish lists, get backgrounds and correct spelling, and as a source of photographs of the grads and the teachers.

I knew that to pull off this reunion, I would depend heavily on computers and the Internet. Being a computer professional by day and a PC geek by night, I set up systems to automate the whole process and a database to gather the grads' names and addresses that I hoped would flood in.

My next step was to look where all research begins these days, on the Internet. "Googling" the name "Wagar" yielded over 20,000 results. Searching for "Wagar High School" narrowed the field to under 500. The first "hit" was a website called "wagaralumni.com", run by a much younger grad, Darryl Levine. There, I found an almost complete '73 class list. I dashed off a message to all whose e-mail addresses were posted there expressing my intentions and soliciting their participation.

My friend and classmate Gary Perlman, who also works with computers, suggested that I put together our own reunion website as a central clearinghouse for information, to post messages and swap photographs. I did so in October 2001. I posted the first message, and Gary the second.

That's how it stayed for over two years. Finally, in mid-December last year, I called two of my Wagar classmates, Judy-Gail Adelstein and Della Druick, to take them up on their offer to help. That was the real beginning of our reunion, and the seeds of its organizing committee. I then invited anyone willing to get involved to come to my house for coffee and dessert, to get the ball rolling. That was the first of what would become a regular Sunday night event. And I had no idea who, if anyone, would show up.

Sunday came, and much to my pleasure, so did Gary, Della, Judy-Gail and Rena Goldberg. And although we spent more time catching up than planning, we were on our way. The next week, classmates with whom I never exchanged two words in high school joined us, including Bernie Lebovits, Leesa Berger and Janice Levine. Layah Long represented us in Toronto, finding people, putting up posters, making phone calls. Our ranks swelled as time went on and word spread, and we soon had a solid, dedicated organizing committee.

Arranging the reunion was a breeze. Each Sunday, the committee members arrived at 7:15p.m. But it was impossible to get down to business until we got in at least an hour's joyful schmoozing. Only then would we crowd around my coffee table and roll up our sleeves.

The biggest task was contacting our grads. We had everyone's names, but postal and e-mail addresses were few and far between. Every week, we poured over long lists, each of us picking names to look up as if we were choosing sides for a baseball game. This was a slow process, not because there were lots of names, but because, at each name, we got sidetracked talking about what they've been up to over the years. Slowly, we filled in the missing information and were able to get in touch with many classmates. And to our pleasant surprise, more than half of the 250 grads we found still lived here in Montreal! That put to rest any thought about having the reunion anywhere but here.

The committee, for the most part, was able to reach consensus on pretty much all issues. It all fell right into place. Victor, our amazing caterer, took charge from the beginning, offering many excellent suggestions way beyond the menu. We struck a subcommittee to handle décor. And even when my personal view would differ from others, I learned to trust the wisdom and instincts of the group. This meant positive experiences at every step and a lot of fun in the process.

The next big issue was the date. By the time the committee gelled, it was February 2004. We thought that a long weekend would be best for the reunion, so we considered Victoria Day, St. Jean Baptiste, Canada Day, Labour Day, Thanksgiving, and on into next year. We finally settled on May 22, giving us only three and a half months. In retrospect, we were nuts. But the short time meant good solid work.

Right from the start, the committee wanted to keep costs down while providing a comfortable, memorable experience. The suggested venues were hotel banquet halls, restaurants with party rooms, and Wagar itself. If we could negotiate a modest all-inclusive rate at a hotel, a big part of the organization would take care of itself while keeping the event accessible to the most people. We felt that $75 would be at the high end of affordability, and the $50 range was preferred. We found an anonymous benefactor who offered to subsidize anyone for whom the fees would be a hardship. We ultimately budgeted for $55 a person, and hoped for 175 to attend.

By mid-March, we still hadn't decided between a hotel or Wagar. Some of us were afraid that after three decades, the old alma mater on Parkhaven Avenue would be shabbier and smaller than we remembered, and there is talk of mothballing it altogether. We needed to see it for ourselves, so we arranged a field trip to scout it out. As the committee descended on the place, our fears evaporated. The lobby was exactly as we left it in 1973. The gym was as big and bright as ever, minus the chin-up bars and climbing ropes. The classrooms seemed to still ring from our teenage laughter; the cafeteria evoked memories of lunch lines, skipped classes and card games. The hallways, auditorium, washrooms… it was all intact. The only things that were missing were the "barracks", the temporary classrooms at the back of the school. They were a recess-time refuge, where some of us would sneak a cigarette or a kiss between classes. Once we saw the old place, there was no doubt: the reunion had to be there. We delegated a couple of people to book the date and close the deal.

The next week, I got a call from Leesa. She had just spoken to Wagar's principal. "Bad news," she said. "The school's already booked by someone else. Our date is gone."

As it turns out, our Della had already talked to the school board. We were the "someone else" who got the school, and at a fee that would keep the ticket price way down. It was all set.

By this February, only 45 messages were posted on our reunion website, mostly by me. When it finally looked like there really was going to be a reunion, the message board caught fire. Big time. In March, 428 new messages were posted. In April, there were 2,500 more and May saw another 1,300. Wagar grads, including some self-proclaimed technophobes, were jumping on the bandwagon in droves. After two and a half years, the message board became an instant hit. It was Nostalgia Central. People posted thoughts about high school, places, confessions, regrets and accomplishments. We read of memories of riding a Borden's milk truck on its daily rounds, being chased out of a Caldwell bakery by its broomstick-swinging owner, the price of chocolate bars and comic books, the shock and tragedy of Lorraine Foley's train accident, Viagra, Bailey's bakery, nights at Westminster Park, Orange Julep and Donut King. It was amazing how sharp some people's memories were. One grad, excited about rekindling old friendships, asked me to send him my database of names and addresses so that he could organize a mini-reunion at his Toronto home. I politely declined, not wanting any other gathering to dilute the hard work we were putting into the main event.

Class Photos

We all grew up within a couple of miles of each other, mostly in Cote St. Luc, with a smattering in Hampstead, N.D.G. and Montreal West. We all attended the same nursery and elementary schools. Judy-Gail dug through her parents' basement, found a class picture from first grade, and posted it on our website. Then another was submitted, and another. Very soon, we had every single group photo from every class ever attended by any of us, complete with students' names.

Other items were submitted, like a 5-cent bus ticket, kindergarten report cards, Expo 67 passports, album covers and concert tickets. If someone lacked the technology to submit an item, one of us would scan it, and before you could say “upload this”, it was beaming across the Internet. That's when Gary jumped in and organized a wonderful memorabilia website, one dedicated to all the images of our childhood

The more that computers were involved, the more the human, non-technical side of things emerged. For example, I searched the Internet for Al Schreiber, a former Wagar math teacher and football coach. Mr. Schreiber e-mailed me several teachers' addresses, which I added to my database. They included that of Chris Blair, one of my favourite teachers who now lives in California. Chris replied to my e-mail and referred me to Robert Smith, another popular Wagar teacher, still here in Montreal. Bob has no computer, so I had to resort to a good old-fashioned telephone call. And I am grateful for this because Bob felt comfortable enough from our personal chat to invite me to a gathering of retired high school teachers so that I could personally ask them to the reunion. No e‑mail message could ever have replaced that face-to-face experience, the thrill of seeing and talking to these wonderful people who had so influenced our lives, to talk to them now as peers, to discover that they were as interested in seeing us as we were to see them. And every one of them was excited about the reunion. I had no trouble convincing Judy-Gail and Bernie to come along.

Organizing the reunion has been an exercise in pure chutzpah. I have made more cold calls than I ever imagined, picking up the phone to speak to people who I either haven't seen in over three decades, or with whom I have never talked. And every time, it turned out to be really nice. Almost every person I talked to not only appreciated the personal contact, but showed up on the big night.

I polled the psychiatrists and psychologists among my classmates, asking them to explain the phenomenon of reunions and the explosive popularity of the message board. (Note to self: Is the disproportionately high number of shrinks among our grads in any way  reflective of the general state of our classes mental health?) As one voice, they all said that this process was the opportunity to relive the past without the stresses of growing up, to be a child once more, but with the experience of an adult. They said that it even gave us the chance to make amends for the wrongs we did and cleanse ourselves of the guilt we carried for all these decades; sort of like doing it all over again, the right way, this time.

Like any class, Wagar '73 had its share of characters, and the reunion's message board became the forum for one of them. Whadro Nilgesarm entertained and baffled us with his often humourous and always brilliant poetic musings. It took weeks for people to figure out that Whadro's name was an anagram of fellow grad Howard Gliserman. His exposure prompted the early demise of Whadro, but not before a mystique and mythology emerged. Whadro's legacy to the Class of '73 was an army jacket, which was displayed at the reunion where we were encouraged to autograph it. It was later auctioned off, raising $250 for charity.

Fallen classmates

From the very beginning, an inevitable, unpleasant fact loomed heavily. Of the 338 official Class of '73 grads, we knew that some had passed away. We were determined to appropriately acknowledge our missing friends and classmates. Based on swapped stories and the rumours heard by several of the committee members, we were able to name nine such people. Someone posted a message asking if anyone knew who among us had died. A response came quickly, naming all nine. Unfortunately, we learned a bitter lesson that every junior journalist knows: check your sources. It turns out that one of the supposedly departed was quite alive and living in Toronto. (Insert Toronto joke here, if you must.) Fortunately, that person never saw the posted message and was spared any indignities.

In addition to a moving memorial presented by Bernie at the reunion itself, the committee made it known that any post-reunion surplus funds would be donated to charity in memory of our lost classmates and teachers. We felt that the beneficiary ought to have something to do with children and available not just to Montrealers. We selected the Children's Wish Foundation. The cheques and cash started to roll in. This continued well past the main event, not just with straight donations but with proceeds from auctioning a custom-made t-shirt and the $250 from Whadro’s jacket. At the latest tally, we cleared the $3,600 mark, a goal we set to mark 200 times “chai”, the traditional Jewish number that symbolizes life. Dr. Robert Notkin, one generous grad, offered to make up any shortfall to that amount.

As the reunion weekend drew closer, registrations rolled in. I frequently posted announcements on the website as we hit milestones: 75 people, 100, 125. Based on the experience of other reunions and the sheer size of our graduating class, the organizing committee aimed for some 175 guests and budgeted accordingly. Three weeks before the big day, we passed the break-even point. When all was said and done, we welcomed 180 grads, spouses and teachers, some from as far away as Calgary, California, Chicago, Boston and Florida.

The main event was on Saturday, which left Friday and Sunday wide open for anything, spontaneous or planned. We thought we'd start the weekend early with an "ice breaker". A popular West Island watering hole waived their usual cover charge for us and provided live entertainment. We expected a crowd of 20 to 30. Over 60 people showed up, some still arriving at midnight. Gary handed out photo-name tags with the grad's yearbook photo and the name large enough to be inconspicuously read.

Given the dynamic nature of the attendees and our enthusiasm, we didn't need to break any ice. Things were plenty warm all by themselves.

Setting up

Who says you have to compromise if you're on a shoestring budget? With the imagination and efforts of our décor crew and a handful of others who pitched in, we transformed the school. Spread around the lobby walls was a timeline depicting moments in history interspersed with Wagar events. Westminster Park was a big part of our teenage summer evenings, so we recreated it in the gym with paper, paint, park bench and makeshift sand. We even had a mock "162" bus stop. On the far side was our version of the Orange Julep, complete with cars. Strung between basketball hoops were clotheslines laden with peasant blouses, tie-dyed t-shirts, jeans and checkered lumber jackets, the uniforms of our youth. On cocktail tables were centrepieces made from platform shoes spray-painted gold. Everywhere you looked were photos of grads and teachers, pictures of icons and sights from back in the 70's, movie posters and signs from the era. We turned a huge empty gym into a warm nostalgic space.

A surprise guest

Have you ever had a tune stuck in your head that you just couldn't shake? Imagine hearing that for 38 years! I and the 31 others from my fourth grade class (Room 22, Westminster School) were taught a four-part harmony song by our universally beloved teacher, Miss Louise Mayerovitch,. One of us posted a message on the reunion website with just one line from that tune. Within minutes, all the lyrics were up there, as was a flood of loving memories of Miss Mayerovitch. As 10-year-olds, we didn’t realize that our teacher was all of 21, in just her second year in front of a class. What we did know was how wonderful she was. One of us recently located Miss Mayerovitch, freshly retired in Toronto, and told her of our websites. Although she tried to keep a low profile, she got swept up into the message board fray. She was amazed to see how much we remembered of her class and how much of an impact she had on our lives. I phoned Louise, had a heart-warming chat, and learned how much of a challenge our class was, filled with bright, eager minds. We both wondered why she was not in the class picture. How strange it felt to call my grade four teacher by her first name!

I have to admit to a bit of sneakiness here. When Louise told me that she’d be in town over the Victoria Day weekend, I insisted that she come to the reunion on the condition that she tell no-one. Well, the surprise worked. It brought tears to the eyes of her former students, 18 of whom were there to greet her. And, after nearly four decades, we were able to pose for one more class picture, this time with Louise finally in her rightful place.

The Big Night

I got to the school early that morning, but I never had a chance to change into the nice clothes I brought for the party. The next thing I knew, it was 7:30 at night and there was a lobby full of people, lined up to check in. If I had been buoyed by the set-up process, the energy out there now put me way over the top. Imagine nearly two hundred very happy people, all reliving their youth, seeing old friends and favourite teachers for the first time in decades, not knowing which way to turn first. Mix in some hors d'oeuvres, drinks and lots of 70s hits (none of today's wannabe music) and you start to get the picture.

To keep things cool, we gave out "Wagar Water", bottles of chilled spring water on which we printed custom-made labels. Stories were told, teachers were thanked, pictures were pulled out of wallets and purses. There was dancing, laughing, crying; all the things a reunion could be. And it was far better than anyone dared to imagine.

And after what seemed like a couple of blinks and many hugs, it was all over. The last chords of "Stairway to Heaven" faded out and the lights came up. The committee, plus a few others who couldn't tear themselves away, stayed back to take down the decorations, stack the chairs and tables and scavenge a few souvenirs.

We didn't let the grads leave empty-handed. Each person got a "loot bag" consisting of a Class of '73 t-shirt rolled up into a reunion coffee mug, which was stuffed with candies reminiscent of the 70's.

We compiled all the names, addresses, high school memories and brief biographies into a "memory book" which was given to each grad. Attendees will get a CD filled with all the pictures, messages, stories and memorabilia that graced our websites. And just for good measure (and to make the Torontonians jealous), we threw in a half-dozen fresh Montreal bagels. Our grads left with bellies, hearts and arms full.

Can't get enough

There was just too much energy left over after the reunion to let it die away. We anticipated that, so as a last hurrah, I arranged a Sunday brunch. Again, 20 or so people said they'd like to come, mostly on their way out to the highway and back home. I reserved a few big tables and suggested an 11:00 o'clock arrival. Well, by 11:05, it was standing room only, with another 60 of us waiting to be seated or served. We stayed well into the afternoon, snapping more pictures and prolonging the inevitable, tearful goodbyes. The last words that day were promises of the next reunion, for our collective 50^th birthday party.

This rush of nostalgia and reconnections would not have been possible even five years ago. The success of the reunion and our ability to pull it off in a very short time could only have been done with current technology. We searched the Internet for people. Canada411.com was helpful in finding phone numbers. Whowhere.com got us e-mail addresses. Canadapost.com filled in missing postal codes. Early on, we e-mailed a survey to "test the waters". Our contact list was an electronic database. With a couple of mouse clicks, messages were instantly dispatched to hundreds of grads. Much of our registration was done through an on-line form which doubled as an information-gathering tool for our Memory Book. That book itself and the designs for our t-shirts and mugs were cobbled together entirely on PCs. Hundreds of pictures and thousands of messages were a click away on two websites. And there was no shortage of digital cameras throughout the reunion weekend. But when all the electrons settled and the screens cleared, it was good old human contact that made it work. A retired teachers' party; the word-of-mouth grapevine; imagination, dedication and hard work; there was no electronic substitute for that. The spontaneous phone calls and backyard barbecues that still go on today are purely person-to-person. And there is no computer program anywhere that can simulate or transmit the smiles, handshakes, hugs and tears of joy that we all felt at the reunion of Wagar High School's Class of 1973.

Organizing a successful high school reunion can be fun, easy and not too expensive. Here are a few tips:

ü      Build a committee. Make it big enough to have enough people to share the tasks, but not so big to make it difficult to get things done. Expect lots of schmoozing,

w        Trust your committee. Your event will be great, no matter what/where/when. You need the committee's enthusiasm and commitment.

w        Know that you can't please everyone all the time. Just be honest.

ü      Open a bank account

w        Do so in the name of the reunion, not in a person's name. You might have to "fight" with your bank manager to do this.

w        Make sure that your account requires the signatures of two signing officers on all cheques and withdrawals

w        keep detailed records of all deposits (from whom, dates, amounts and for what) and withdrawals (dates, amounts, for what).

ü      Keep lots of contact information.

w        Write down obvious things like names, addresses, telephone numbers, e-mail addresses

w        write down not-so-obvious things: alternate e-mail addresses, birthdays, who referred them, spouse's name, children's name(s), job descriptions

ü      Give yourself lots of time. The more you have, the better you can plan and execute.

ü      Have representatives in other major cities where grads live. It will aid in finding your classmates and publicizing the event.

ü      Don't limit your choice of event dates to long weekends. Other events that compete for your guest's attendance also take place on long weekends.

ü      Know your crowd. Send out a quick survey to help you determine the best place (city), time (long weekend or not?), budget (what price are they willing to pay?) It will also let you gather corrected personal info and ask for referrals of other classmates. It also gets your guests involved and lets them know that you're working.

ü      Use all available resources:

w        Internet

w        telephone books

w        media (a quick and enthusiastic blurb will often get published in community calendar columns)

w        word of mouth! Your fellow grads are your best resource; they know people who know people! Have them spread the word.

w        friends in the business. (Don't be shy asking for discounts on supplies and services. People are glad to contribute.)

ü      Be persistent. Don't give up on grads that are reluctant. Be supportive and infectious with your positive attitude. Assure them that there will be among friends, including others that are equally shy/unsure/reluctant. Ultimately, a reunion only happens once. If they miss it, they may regret it.

ü      Keep your grads informed

w        evidence of progress helps to build excitement.

ü      Tell the world!

w        make posters for local merchants' windows.

w        tell everyone who will listen, and ask them to tell their friends.

w        send e-mail (but make it important and not too often, or it might be seen as junk mail).

w        set up a website as a bulletin board for announcements.

w        set up an e-mail account from which you'll send all your announcements. Do not use Hotmail or Yahoo or other such popular addresses. Such messages may get blocked by anti-spam software, and you might be limited as to the number of recipients to whom you can send any one message.

ü      Arrange a hotel group rate for out-of-town grads.

w        Do this at a couple of hotels, one budget and one fancy.

ü      Make maps to all venues, including hotels, restaurants, etc.

w        Post them on websites

w        e-mail them to everyone

w        print and snail-mail them to everyone else.

w        If you cannot draw one, search the Internet for maps (Mapquest.com is one such place to look). When you find the map you need, make note of the website address where you found it and distribute that address.

ü      Don't worry about food, décor and entertainment. Your participants will be too busy catching up and schmoozing to notice it. Guaranteed.

ü      Make name tags for everyone.

w        Make sure that they have a photo of the grad as he/she looked in high school

w        Make their name prominent enough to read discretely.

w        Have lots of blank name tags on hand for unexpected attendees.

ü      Souvenirs of the event are nice, but don't break the budget with these.

ü      Take lots of pictures.

ü      Give yourself a chance to step back and appreciate all of your hard work.