First,  I want to say how important this past weekend was to me.   I meant what I said in my directory input about feeling that West  Lafayette was the last place I considered to be home.   I had always stayed away in the belief that I could not return and have things be the same - I was right, things were different - as they should be.

When I finally got myself on the road Sunday  (I just could not get myself to leave),  I was fine until south of Indianapolis.   Every mile put an increasing load on my heart until I just started to cry,  first a little,  then a lot.   Maybe it was just crossing into Ohio,  but this lasted for hours.  What I came to see is that first and foremost,  we (the class of 74) have that rare privilege of having people that love us.

Second,  is that we share something that seems to hold a thread across a lot of years,  a tie that binds us to a place, and to each other.   Look at how much we have achieved,  as the class has always been a sum of the labors of each of us as individuals.  We have done this for ourselves,  but also in part for those in our class.   We have doctors, nurses, engineers, lawyers, mothers, fathers.... Our diversity of professions has allowed our class to touch a wide range of activities that affect each of us every day.

The third piece of this river of tears was a lifting of a pain I have carried for a while.   I have lost many, many friends and soldiers that I have served with, or commanded through the years.   Each of their sacrifices left me at the time wondering if what we were doing was worth the sacrifice they were called on to make. Sitting in the dinner,  watching the presentation,  talking to each other,  I was able to see why we served.   We all served to allow each and every one of our class,  and the hundreds of high school classes around us, to live their lives.   Seeing how so many of us have chosen to live these lives is the continuing proof that we did in our duty what was expected - no soldier can ask for more.

Somewhere after Columbus,  I started being able to recall the memories that I tucked away 30 years ago when I moved away.   I began to see the faces of our classmates, and be able to walk the halls and sit in the classes.   These are not places I have been,  and I was sorry that I had not been there earlier,  as it would have made seeing each of our classmates a little less intense.  Years test and temper the blade of character - and we have done well.

~ Jim Holland