And if you come, when all the flowers are
dying
And I am dead - as dead I well may be
You'll come and find the place where I am
lying
And kneel and say a prayer there for me
And I shall hear, though soft you tread above
me
And all my dreams will warm and sweeter be
If you will whisper softly you still love me
I will sleep in peace until you come to me
Prayer written by class member Cliff Compton to remember our classmates on the occasion of the planting of a tree at our 50th birthday party KC Missouri 4-28-01
dear God
we were young and strong.
21 was a magic number
30 was an eternity away
1969
a year of turbulence and turmoil
they turned the world upside down and we hung on
spinning madly...
unstoppable
invincible
like teenage vikings on a wild sea
allan astry and i plotted the distruction of the
status quo as we watched
three stooges reruns
and sampled hard cider in his living room
and bruce lepper and i drank beer and discussed death
near the edge of the cliffs
on the bluff above cliff drive
and ruben gill boxed the air around my head and with a
wink told me I should stop by his
house and put on the gloves and we would see what we
would see
and terry shirley stood like a big old bear in front
of the line of tough boys that challenged
us from east high school
and mike mcbride and i scandelized our church by
bringing a drum set into the sanctuary
on a sunday and playing a hymn with a backbeat
and the beat goes on and on
and now it's gone
and the vietnam war took some of our young
and drugs and disease and the accidents of time
and the intrusion of crime and trouble broke through
the concrete of our mortality
and left big peices of our story in shallow trenches
in da nang
in graveyards in suburbia
and in the shadows in our hearts.
and they took with them the songs that were never sung
and the stories that were never told
yet...
as we approach the big 5. 0.
we stand here together
you who have gone before
and we who continue to write this story
still somehow inexplicably tied together
bound by memories, memorialized by the planting of
this tree
a tree that we pray will stand for many a year
and each time we see it...
we will see the faces and hear the voices
of all who were placed by their creator
at that special time
at that special place
that we know as northeast high school
we the class of 69
thank God for making us part of this symphony
amen
Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am in a thousand winds that blow,
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain,
I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush,
I am in the graceful rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight,
I am the starshine of the night.
I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room.
I am in the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there. I do not die.
Maria Frye
