The Class of 1993

Got a text tonight from my cousin. We graduated together in 1993, from a school made up of three small towns that consolidated our freshman year. I think we had 80 people in our graduating class.

Tonight my cousin told me the fifth person from our class died, all since we left school. One drowned in 1994, another killed himself three years after graduation. A girl died of cancer, another committed suicide two years ago. And now Andrew tonight. It was his sister who died of cancer. They came from a big old family of 16, one of three families in our school who had 15 or more kids in it. All farm families. All Catholic. No reality shows.

Five deaths in 19 years. It seems so strange, makes you wonder about cursed classes or families. Who will be next? My mom graduated in 1968 and she's had three members of her class die. Dad graduated in 1965; he's had four. We've had five. How many will be around for us in 30 years?

It's been a tough six months for the old hometown. A well-liked member of perhaps the most well-liked family in town killed himself in September and the whole community is still in mourning. Couple bad car accidents but I suppose that happens all the time.

I met Andrew when we consolidated, he came from one of the other towns. No one knew anyone and a lot of us met each other the first day of football practice that first year and things went much better than anyone was predicting. The other boys who died, they were on that team too. Andrew was quick but not a great athlete. We weren't close in school; the main memory I have of him from school is when he told a friend of mine he was going to beat the shit out of me for screwing his girlfriend. It was scary enough because he was a tough guy, but especially because I had done no such thing.

Still, he was a good kid. The children in the family threw tons of parties out at the family farm, those affairs that draw kegs and sometimes cops and sometimes lead to kids running through cornfields to escape.

I can't pretend I was close to him. But a lot of people I was close to are deep in mourning and his death is horribly sad because he was so horribly young. Just like the four others.

But I hadn't seen him in years. And the most vivid mental image I have of him is probably of talking to him the day our class of 80 graduated. We were 18, and we had the rest of our lives in front of us.

 

My class (2003) has had two deaths -- that I can remember off-hand, anyway.

One died our junior year. I was in band with him. He said he had a migraine headache during practice one night, and our director had one of the seniors drive him home. He wound up going to the hospital about 10 minutes from our hometown, but was transported to Jewish Hospital in Louisville after his condition worsened. He had an aneurism and his family decided to take him off support later that evening. Almost all the band kids went to Louisville to say our goodbyes. That was the saddest thing I've ever witnessed, especially when Ben's dad -- a Baptist preacher at the time -- walked back into the room with every kid to say goodbye. We were allowed to go back three at a time with Ben's dad.

Then there was Ramon, who died the summer before our senior year. He was on the way to visit family in Michigan, fell asleep at the wheel and flipped his truck. I think about every classmate of mine -- over 150 of us graduated after we started fifth grade with over 300 kids -- was at the funeral, which was held at this small baptist church. He's buried in the same cemetery as my grandpa.

That year was pretty rough on my hometown and school.

 

I feel your pain. From my class of 100 or so in 1982, we've had six deaths that I can recall off the top of my head. Two guys died while I was living away from my hometown, so I don't know their circumstances. Another one drank himself to death. One was killed in a shootout with police, one girl died in a car wreck and the most recent killed himself on the lawn of the county courthouse. He was facing another felony DWI charge.

And at least three classmates are in prison. One got sent away -- again, from what I can tell from his friends' Facebook postings -- but I'm not sure why. One is in for murder; he killed a guy who was walking up to where he and a buddy had hidden some meth ingredients. And the other dude in prison got put away for failing to report the abuse and subsequent death of his grandchild. His wife and his daughter -- the mother of the baby -- were both charged with murder.

I graduated with some messed-up folks.

 

Class of 85. Seven dead, I think, as of two years ago. I didn't know about any of them until I saw an in memorium photo on Facebook after a reunion I skipped.

Two were surprises, two were not, and the other three I don't remember, even after looking them up in the yearbook. It was a class of 300 or so, I think.

The most colorful one was the woman who ODed on heroin while awaiting trial on heroin distribution charges. In high school, she was best know for ditching her date on prom night and riding around with her girlfriend all night in the limo he rented. He responded by posting fliers all over campus accusing her of "lezzing off" in his limo. Ah, high school.

 

I know of two from my class (1994) that are dead. One from cancer, another in a motorcycle accident. I've moved away, though, and we had a class of 240 so there might be a few others.

Compare that to my wife's school. We went to an all-class reunion a few months ago, but it was primarily for classes from the 1980s. She graduated in 1989. This is a small-town school where the graduating classes typically number between 25 and 50.
The in memoriam reel went on for about 20 minutes. I think my wife counted something like 20 or 30 people that were in school when she was, either in her class or a year or two difference either way.
Freakiest one was a boy who had the same first and last name as her, who was a couple years older. Everyone around us kind of did a double take when they showed the name, I guess looking to make sure she wasn't a ghost. She was freaked out by it for a while.