Katherine Hall Page ’69

In 1969 graduation and reunion coincided. A blue sky greeted us on that last day of May as, in our black gowns, we marched past the alums wearing white. All smiles, they called out words of congratulation, of encouragement, of pride.

There we would be—four years out, eight, twelve and on to the reunions of an age we couldn’t imagine yet. The smooth, unlined faces gave way to wrinkles and hair matching their white clothes splashed with class colors. As I said a tearful farewell to my still dearest friends, I thought about that walk, not sure whether it had been daunting or not. What were those lives like behind the faces? What would mine be?

Looking at my father’s photos over these 56 years, I came to appreciate the procession as hopeful and empowering.

A unique passage of time, the present and the future, right before our eyes.