The Reunion

I spent last weekend at my Alma Mater experiencing a reunion weekend that was so beyond my greatest expectations that I have to keep looking at the photos to make sure it was real. This was an amazing reunion of Geneseo Chamber Singers alumni, anyone who had belonged to this choir since its inception at SUNY Geneseo 50 years ago. Chamber Singers was the bright shiny spot in my otherwise less than stellar college career, over thirty years ago. This was a choir for whom "good enough'" was never good enough. Only excellence was acceptable. Back then we rehearsed together several days a week, toured Europe twice together, performed together in Lincoln Center. We stood shoulder to shoulder with each other and (to quote our beloved director, Dr. Isgro) "felt the power of music and the joy of making one voice out of many, submerged in a single unified entity lost in the emotional, psychological, and musical essence of the notes and words we are singing." Powerful stuff. Serious bonds. Priceless memories. My Chamber Singers experience is what I have reached back to and grasped tightly when I have felt that my youth was ill spent. There was always this one redeeming thing.

Given all this, it's easy to imagine that the friendships formed there were not quite like any other. What we shared was unique to us, and it was impossible for anyone outside the group to ever really understand it. We all had other friends, probably best friends, but within this little society of ours there was a bond all our own. And now I was going back to campus to revisit the Chamber Singers experience, complete with social gatherings, rehearsals and a CONCERT. I was beside myself with anticipation. There have been four previous reunions over the years but I was never able to go. This time the planets aligned, God smiled and I was on my way. Literally the dream of a lifetime.

Now here's the thing about my expectations. This was a reunion covering 50 years worth of alumni. That's a lot of years and of course they wouldn't all be coming, so I really didn't have high hopes of running into close friends from my four years there, from 1970 to 1974. What I ached to experience was rehearsing in the practice room of my memories, under the direction of Dr. Isgro once again, with other Chamber Singers, no matter what their age, and even if I didn't know them. Then to stand on stage with them and actually be part of a Chamber Singers concert once again. (My eyes teared up just then as I wrote that sentence. I'm telling you, this is emotional stuff for me.) So I was just thrilled to be going, and as I said, I didn't have high expectations of seeing close friends. But that's exactly what sets the stage for a really great surprise.

On Friday night, the first night of the planned weekend, there was a reception in the lobby of the student union. Wine, cheese, nibbles and stuff. It was a chance to register for the weekend, and to meet and greet. My husband had wisely stayed behind in Florida, knowing full well there would little for him to do at Geneseo while I was rehearsing and trapsing all over campus. So here I was walking into the midst of mingling alumni, scanning the room and at first seeing only strangers. No matter. That's what I expected. Then I found Dr. and Mrs. Isgro, who pointed me in the direction of a table where a few of the singers from "my years" were gathered. Sure enough, there were Ray and Dave, who were upper classmen when I first joined the choir. They had also both been on the first European Tour and we enjoyed seeing each other and catching up a bit. This was nice. I hung pretty close to the "early 70's " table for an hour or so, and then, feeling the weariness of my day's journey, I said goodnight and headed over to find my coat. Before I got very far, a crazy lady approached me, grabbed my name badge, the one we would all be wearing on a ribbon around our necks all weekend, and said "Marcy? Marcy?? Not MARCIA??!!" (Yes indeed, "Marcia", my given name which I used back then. ) I said yes and took a closer look at my assailant. There before me stood my old friends Laura and Maria. Oh my word, I couldn't believe it. I forgot about my exit and we quickly found a place to sit and have a glass of wine. Unbelievable. Lovable Laura, looking the same, as funny and genuine as ever. And Maria with her angelic smile, the warmth and comfort of her presence wrapping itself around me like a soft blanket. Things were getting good. We talked for another hour.

The next morning, as everyone gathered in yet another lobby for coffee and pastries before the first rehearsal, I looked around for my new old friends. Soon they arrived, as did everyone from the night before, and even more people who were just now joining the weekend's festivities. "Oh look, there's Scott!" etc etc. Then I turned and there stood Ernie, his smile even more magnificent than I remembered. Ernie Ernie Ernie! My joy was complete. I hadn't known he was coming. But there had been rumours. Our little band of comrades solidified right then and there.

The weekend was perfect. I could write a book about each little segment. The rehearsals, then going to lunch with the gang at Tom Wahls in the afternoon, then the dinner before the concert, the concert itself, then gathering at the Big Tree Inn afterwards, just like the old days, and the farewell breakfast on Sunday. I've made notes of each episode to keep inside my concert program to help me remember all of it.

Here are just a few mental snapshots:

- Sitting in the rehearsal room, all of us adults talking and laughing before practice, and Dr. Kucaba taking his place before us and whistling for silence. He sternly admonishes us that there is no reason for chit chat. ("Chit chat"? I haven't heard that in 30 years. I love it. I eat it up. And we all shut up.)

- All 185 of us on stage at rehearsal, shoulder to shoulder, sweating and squeezed onto the inadequate risers barely able to breathe under stage lights hotter than the sun, and someone wisely asking that no one wear perfume or aftershave during the concert later. And Laura , not missing a beat, answering, "But deodorant is good."

- Six of us at a table in the center of Tom Wahls eating hamburgs, hot dogs, french fries and onion rings, all whooping and laughing, taking pictures, talking loudly and generally scaring every other customer in the place. Of course. How else could it possibly be?

- My dear friend Maria patiently listening to my guilty ramblings about what a bad person I was back in college, and her gently pointing out to me that we were kids. It was the 70's, and we were seeking, searching, finding our way. Her gentleness finally convincing me to be gentler with myself. What a relief.

- Sitting with my new old friends in the back of Wadsworth Auditorium listening to the current crop of Chamber Singers performing the first half of the evening's concert. During one piece involving a set of chimes being played on stage, the distant notes of the campus bell tower's carillon filter through the walls and mingle with the chimes on stage, making a new kind of music. One sweeter than the composer intended. For me, a poignant duet of past and present.

This is getting long, but I have to say a little more. Here it is in a nutshell: for me, the weekend was a microcosm of our whole college career. Our four years of college in a one act play. "Meet you at the student union." "If you get there first, save us a table." "See you at the Big Tree Inn." "Rehearsal in five minutes." So much of the same dialogue as way back then. I never felt like a geezer the whole time. I felt like a 19 year old, but a better one than I was. One without the irresponsibility and the angst. It was a re-write of the original script, a chance for a do-over with only the best stuff in play. Permission to jettison the guilt.

The whole thing wasn't just wonderful. It transcended wonderful into the realm of magical. And the re-connect with old friends wasn't just great, it wasn't just fun, it was healing. Whatever past guilts I had suffered, these people seemed to love me still. If I had done wrong, they seemed to have forgiven me. They made it easy to forgive myself. This is huge.

When it was finally over, I was so filled to the brim, I could not have stood any more. I wanted to go home. Home to my life that I love, home to my husband whom I love more than life. I wanted to go home now, but carrying with me this incredible gift. A gift so huge and blessed that it has changed me. Maybe not in any discernible way, but somehow I am better. I must be.

Thank you God for this gift. Thank you Dr. Isgro for giving me the Chamber Singers experience, both then and now. Thank you dear friends for, well, everything.