I was not surprised to see how many of them were quite successful, as I had been in a special progress class. Quite a few of them had become college professors and had written books and held office in prestigious organizations. Many of the boys had become lawyers, one was involved with the Epstein case. Others were successful business men. I found a couple of them had died. For every hey-I'm-so-excited-you-found-me! there were two that I could sense didn't really care, and a few that didn't answer me at all. But when people are in their 80s, you can't be sure why.
Not too long ago I was talking about a co-worker I'd worked with when we were 17. We'd take lunch breaks together and sing gospel. He was in the church choir, and I knew the songs from listening to country music. I looked him up and saw his picture online, an old man now, but still in his choir robes singing at church. I called them, asked how to get in touch with him. They called me back saying his memory was not good, he didn't remember me, but he thanked me kindly for remembering him.
On Facebook, I found two neighbor girls from Rockaway when I was in my teens. We lived in the same building and our families were friends. They were a year and two younger than me, and I would mentor them on clothes, hair, and makeup. I smile when I think of them sitting on the closed toilet, watching me at the mirror putting on my eye makeup and fixing my hair. They would ask me to put makeup on them and teach them how to shadow their eyes. I, the maven, was probably 15! I found them on Facebook but got no answer to my message from either. Another teenage friend from Rockaway contacted me from Classmates. Her son lives in L.A., and she will call me when she next visits.
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