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Over Labor Day weekend, the William Penn High School Class of 1959 came together to celebrate 50 years of friendships, and to remember those classmates who are no longer with us.

They came from across the country for what would be better described as the PoliGrip, liniment, corn pad, and adult diaper Golden Year Celebration. For the men in attendance, the drug of choice was Viagra.

Those of you who read my column regularly know that I left William Penn at the end of my junior year and got my high school diploma at Immanuel Lutheran in Greensboro.

Why did I participate in the reunion? Most Penn classes consider everyone who would have graduated with the class a part of that class, so we were invited to enjoy the friendship and festivities.

People go to reunions for various reasons — being nosey, hoping Mother Nature has been kinder to them than their classmates, complaining about something that happened 50 years ago, bragging about their achievements, lying about their achievements, eating, drinking and merriment — or a combination of all the above.

I just wanted to tease folks and talk about the many dumb things that we did over the course of 12 years or more of our schooling. The reunion was at the Embassy Suites, where we partied the nights away.

But, many of the activities — such as visiting the High Point Museum; touring the old communities and William Penn’s campus, and a Sunday afternoon picnic at “The Park” helped folks reconnect with their roots.

At the banquet Saturday night, I got to see folks like Rachael Morgan, Paul Steed, and Andrew Padgett, whom I haven’t seen since 1959, which warmed my heart.

The Rev. Tynie Mingo Clemons was the keynote speaker, and she did an outstanding job talking about the cause and effect of change over the past 50 years.

After some good food, speeches, singing and observances, it was time to get it on the good foot just like we used to do back in the day.

One dance with Annie Beck and I knew that Sunday was going to be a day of aches and pains.

Usually, I am the life of the party, but Mother Nature has spanked my behind so many times that I now know my limit when it comes to partying. So after that dance, and while everyone was on the dance floor, I quickly made my exit and headed home.

Once there, I quickly undressed and hopped in the hot tub for 30 minutes, followed by lots of liniment.

Next column: Reunion participants reminisce about the “high first” grade.

Glenn Chavis researches and writes about High Point’s black history. Contact him at Storytime40@aol.com