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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Family & Friends
- Subject: Personal Growth / Achievement
- Published: 12/21/2011
Class Reunion (The Misunderstood Handshake)
Born 1951, M, from Sparta, il, United StatesClass Reunions (The Misunderstood Handshake)
The Vietnam conflict was in full bloom while I was in college. Someone told me it was only a conflict, not a war, because it was not “officially” declared.
In addition to dealing with college and all it offered, both positive and negative, I had to deal with having a draft number under one hundred. Uncle Sam was most likely going to come calling the moment I left college. With or without a degree.
To be honest, I really had no feeling about Vietnam one way or another back then. I was just trying to survive college life. Yet at some point a decision had to be reached about my involvement in that country. “To be or Not to be”… a draft dodger. That was the question of the day for men my age.
I hoped the Vietnam situation would resolve itself before I had to make my decision. It didn’t. And in my last semester Uncle Sam came for a visit and invited me to take his physical. I had received the dreaded “letter”. “To be or Not to be” was no longer a question, but a reality.
Forty years later I still remember the moment I got that notice and what my thought process was.
I didn’t really have anything against the Vietnamese people. We were told our country was there to help preserve our own freedom. We were going to stop the spread of communism. I had no reason to disbelieve my country. If it said I was needed, I would answer its call.
BUT … I had one great big concern. Could I take another man’s life even if it meant he was intent on taking mine? That question hung over me, my entire military career. However, I was going to answer the call anyway and hope I would not actually be challenged.
I took and passed my Army physical with that hanging over my head. Two weeks into my military career I was standing in formation at Ft. Leonard Wood, Missouri during basic training. The drill sergeant called us to attention and said he had an announcement. “The Vietnam conflict was over.” Yes he said conflict.
There was a collective sigh. I think many of us, myself included, thought we would not have to worry about going to fight now. Unfortunately, some in line that day still went to Vietnam and never came back.
In the fall of 1973, about eight months into Army life, I anxiously awaited my five year class reunion. I was pretty proud of myself. For me, what I went through up till then was monumental.
I did not particularly want to brag at the reunion, but I was hoping some would take notice of the changes I went through. I also knew it was an opportunity for the high school hot shots to promote themselves. Isn’t that what we all think is going to happen at those reunions?
If I only knew then what I know now? How can anyone five years out of high school take notice of another’s person’s changes when each of them is still busy changing? …Ahh!! The wisdom of maturity.
Anyway, although proud of being in the Army, I still didn’t want to draw attention to myself by wearing my uniform. Vietnam was still fresh on everybody’s mind. We even lost a classmate over there.
My wife, CJ, and I drove four hours to go to my first reunion. When we finally arrived at our destination, I parked the car, opened the door for my wife, and proudly escorted her to the door. My wife was a beautiful red head and she was holding my hand.
When I entered the reunion hall, George McHenry was there greeting everyone who walked through. I thought, “Great, I like him. He’s not one of those hot shots I want to confront. This is going to be OK.”
I extended my hand. George extended his. George opened his mouth and I heard “Hi P……”. He never got my name out. He pushed my hand aside, stepped around me and I heard him say, “Hi Jack. How’re you doin’? Welcome. Haven’t seen you for a long time.”
I could feel the hearty handshake.
Except it wasn’t my hand he shook.
I could not believe what just happened. I looked at CJ and she was looking back at me. Her mouth was gaped open.
What do you do in a situation like that: Do you melt into the room and hope no one else saw it? Do you make a scene and let everyone know about your snub? Or do you storm out of the building, get back into your car, and vow never to go to another reunion again?
Can you guess what I choose? That’s right, I grabbed CJ’s hand and melted back into the room. The other options would have caused a scene and brought on too much attention toward me. So we found our assigned seats and sat down.
Poor CJ. She had to listen to my complaining and then use her usual great reasoning ability to explain away my snub.
Only half heartedly listening, I started surveying the room. Straight ahead of me was the door I just entered. George was doing a great job making everyone feel welcomed. “Except me!”, I thought. “Why’d he snub
me? I thought we were friends. I never ever thought of him as a snob! He hung around with them in high school. But he always appeared to enjoy my company.”
I could have gone on wallowing in my self imposed grief but CJ was tugging at my sleeve and pointing at the name tag next to me.
“No! It can’t be?” The name on the tag in big bold letters read George McHenry.
I looked at CJ, reached for her hand and as quietly as I could, told her to grab her coat. We were leaving.
“No one is going to miss us anyway.”
In CJ’s gentle fashion, she put her arm around me an told me she wanted to stay..
“Pete”, she said. “We used to dance here all the time when we were in high school.”
“Look! They are going to have a live band. Remember how much fun we always had here back in high school? Besides, you promised me a dance and you said before we came, it would be OK.“
What could I say? Once again she was right. Boy, those were good times.
“OK, You’re right. I am not going to let McHenry ruin it for us.”
I love dancing with my wife. I am not very good at it, but I don’t really care. I love dancing with CJ. Unfortunately, we don’t do it enough. And that reunion was probably the first time since college.
Neither CJ nor I let George ruin it. We danced the night away.
You know, a few years later, after I had moved back home, I had a chance meeting at McDonald’s with George McHenry. He approached me and said he wanted to talk to me about the class reunion. I really did not want to talk about it. There was nothing positive McHenry could say about it to me. But he surprised me. He immediately brought up the handshake. He apologized for not shaking my hand.
I spent many years dealing with that snub. As it turned out, I was the one who misunderstood the handshake, or lack of it.
In the 1970’s, when that reunion took place, there was still resentment about Vietnam and those who served. Or at least that is what I believed and I guess I used that perception to influence my thoughts. You see, I knew George had never been in the service because he had a very high draft number. I had convinced myself that anyone who had been through college and not the military were not looking favorably on those who were. In retrospect that was dumb.
Anyway, George told me that he had no intention to snub me. He was just so into his assignment that he wanted to make sure he greeted everyone.
“I didn’t even realize that I did that. A couple of days later someone asked me why I pushed you aside? When I was told that, I thought about how that must have made you feel. Pete, I didn’t realize I did it. I’m sorry if I offended you. That was not my intent. I just got caught up in the whole door greeter thing.”
Boy! Did I have George wrong? I didn’t realize then but God taught me another lesson. “Things are not always as they appear on the surface.”
I allowed that incident to eat at me for years. And all because of a misunderstanding.
By the way! All is forgiven now. In fact, Now that I have settled back in my hometown, George and I are frequent breakfast buddies.
Class Reunion (The Misunderstood Handshake)(Ed DeRousse)
Class Reunions (The Misunderstood Handshake)
The Vietnam conflict was in full bloom while I was in college. Someone told me it was only a conflict, not a war, because it was not “officially” declared.
In addition to dealing with college and all it offered, both positive and negative, I had to deal with having a draft number under one hundred. Uncle Sam was most likely going to come calling the moment I left college. With or without a degree.
To be honest, I really had no feeling about Vietnam one way or another back then. I was just trying to survive college life. Yet at some point a decision had to be reached about my involvement in that country. “To be or Not to be”… a draft dodger. That was the question of the day for men my age.
I hoped the Vietnam situation would resolve itself before I had to make my decision. It didn’t. And in my last semester Uncle Sam came for a visit and invited me to take his physical. I had received the dreaded “letter”. “To be or Not to be” was no longer a question, but a reality.
Forty years later I still remember the moment I got that notice and what my thought process was.
I didn’t really have anything against the Vietnamese people. We were told our country was there to help preserve our own freedom. We were going to stop the spread of communism. I had no reason to disbelieve my country. If it said I was needed, I would answer its call.
BUT … I had one great big concern. Could I take another man’s life even if it meant he was intent on taking mine? That question hung over me, my entire military career. However, I was going to answer the call anyway and hope I would not actually be challenged.
I took and passed my Army physical with that hanging over my head. Two weeks into my military career I was standing in formation at Ft. Leonard Wood, Missouri during basic training. The drill sergeant called us to attention and said he had an announcement. “The Vietnam conflict was over.” Yes he said conflict.
There was a collective sigh. I think many of us, myself included, thought we would not have to worry about going to fight now. Unfortunately, some in line that day still went to Vietnam and never came back.
In the fall of 1973, about eight months into Army life, I anxiously awaited my five year class reunion. I was pretty proud of myself. For me, what I went through up till then was monumental.
I did not particularly want to brag at the reunion, but I was hoping some would take notice of the changes I went through. I also knew it was an opportunity for the high school hot shots to promote themselves. Isn’t that what we all think is going to happen at those reunions?
If I only knew then what I know now? How can anyone five years out of high school take notice of another’s person’s changes when each of them is still busy changing? …Ahh!! The wisdom of maturity.
Anyway, although proud of being in the Army, I still didn’t want to draw attention to myself by wearing my uniform. Vietnam was still fresh on everybody’s mind. We even lost a classmate over there.
My wife, CJ, and I drove four hours to go to my first reunion. When we finally arrived at our destination, I parked the car, opened the door for my wife, and proudly escorted her to the door. My wife was a beautiful red head and she was holding my hand.
When I entered the reunion hall, George McHenry was there greeting everyone who walked through. I thought, “Great, I like him. He’s not one of those hot shots I want to confront. This is going to be OK.”
I extended my hand. George extended his. George opened his mouth and I heard “Hi P……”. He never got my name out. He pushed my hand aside, stepped around me and I heard him say, “Hi Jack. How’re you doin’? Welcome. Haven’t seen you for a long time.”
I could feel the hearty handshake.
Except it wasn’t my hand he shook.
I could not believe what just happened. I looked at CJ and she was looking back at me. Her mouth was gaped open.
What do you do in a situation like that: Do you melt into the room and hope no one else saw it? Do you make a scene and let everyone know about your snub? Or do you storm out of the building, get back into your car, and vow never to go to another reunion again?
Can you guess what I choose? That’s right, I grabbed CJ’s hand and melted back into the room. The other options would have caused a scene and brought on too much attention toward me. So we found our assigned seats and sat down.
Poor CJ. She had to listen to my complaining and then use her usual great reasoning ability to explain away my snub.
Only half heartedly listening, I started surveying the room. Straight ahead of me was the door I just entered. George was doing a great job making everyone feel welcomed. “Except me!”, I thought. “Why’d he snub
me? I thought we were friends. I never ever thought of him as a snob! He hung around with them in high school. But he always appeared to enjoy my company.”
I could have gone on wallowing in my self imposed grief but CJ was tugging at my sleeve and pointing at the name tag next to me.
“No! It can’t be?” The name on the tag in big bold letters read George McHenry.
I looked at CJ, reached for her hand and as quietly as I could, told her to grab her coat. We were leaving.
“No one is going to miss us anyway.”
In CJ’s gentle fashion, she put her arm around me an told me she wanted to stay..
“Pete”, she said. “We used to dance here all the time when we were in high school.”
“Look! They are going to have a live band. Remember how much fun we always had here back in high school? Besides, you promised me a dance and you said before we came, it would be OK.“
What could I say? Once again she was right. Boy, those were good times.
“OK, You’re right. I am not going to let McHenry ruin it for us.”
I love dancing with my wife. I am not very good at it, but I don’t really care. I love dancing with CJ. Unfortunately, we don’t do it enough. And that reunion was probably the first time since college.
Neither CJ nor I let George ruin it. We danced the night away.
You know, a few years later, after I had moved back home, I had a chance meeting at McDonald’s with George McHenry. He approached me and said he wanted to talk to me about the class reunion. I really did not want to talk about it. There was nothing positive McHenry could say about it to me. But he surprised me. He immediately brought up the handshake. He apologized for not shaking my hand.
I spent many years dealing with that snub. As it turned out, I was the one who misunderstood the handshake, or lack of it.
In the 1970’s, when that reunion took place, there was still resentment about Vietnam and those who served. Or at least that is what I believed and I guess I used that perception to influence my thoughts. You see, I knew George had never been in the service because he had a very high draft number. I had convinced myself that anyone who had been through college and not the military were not looking favorably on those who were. In retrospect that was dumb.
Anyway, George told me that he had no intention to snub me. He was just so into his assignment that he wanted to make sure he greeted everyone.
“I didn’t even realize that I did that. A couple of days later someone asked me why I pushed you aside? When I was told that, I thought about how that must have made you feel. Pete, I didn’t realize I did it. I’m sorry if I offended you. That was not my intent. I just got caught up in the whole door greeter thing.”
Boy! Did I have George wrong? I didn’t realize then but God taught me another lesson. “Things are not always as they appear on the surface.”
I allowed that incident to eat at me for years. And all because of a misunderstanding.
By the way! All is forgiven now. In fact, Now that I have settled back in my hometown, George and I are frequent breakfast buddies.
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