I had the pleasure of spending time with a lot of my high school classmates this past weekend. Along with the laughs and old stories being swapped and overly embellished, there were two thoughts that wouldn’t leave my mind. The first was that everyone from my graduating class seems to be aging much more gracefully than me and the second was that there is a very special bond among the folks from the James Wood class of 1990.

We’ve always been a tight-knit group, but I seemed to be more cognizant of it this time. It doesn’t matter where we run into each other…a party like we were at over the weekend, a class reunion, or just bumping into one another at the store. The chemistry and the conversations flow just as easily as they did when we were at a sporting event, or a pep rally, or a school dance twenty-six years ago.

That’s not to say that life hasn’t happened over the last two and a half decades. The class of 1990 has experienced our share of victories as well as more than enough tragedies. But through it all, the wins and losses, the highs and lows, the laughs and the tears, this class has remained present. I’ve personally seen these men and women celebrate the accomplishments of their peers as well as mourn with them and help them through the darker days.

I’ve been racking my brain for days trying to figure out what makes this class so close. I thought maybe it was the fact that we were all thrown together for the better part of four years in high school. We were in it as a team. The stress from teachers and tests. The drama of who was dating whom and who was getting dumped (I was regularly featured in the latter part of that statement). Coming together in a common goal of being better than our cross-town rivals, Handley High School. Growing and learning together in one of the most formative times in our lives. But then I realized that all classes experience similar situations and not all of them are as connected as our group.

So what is it? What makes the bond our class shares so tight? I wish I had an answer. The main reason I started writing this blog was in hopes of having some ultimate realization to answer this million-dollar question. But none came. I don’t know why our class is the way it is. I can’t explain why I can’t help but smile every time I see a fellow classmate. Don’t ask me why I get a text or an email or a phone call from one of these folks at the exact moment I need encouragement. I wish I could tell you why my heart breaks whenever I see a classmate’s heart break. Our class graduated over five hundred students, but the bond is as strong as if there had only been two.

I’ve made friends in every facet of my life since the raucous high school days, as we all have. But none have ever been like my fellow Colonels. Not better or worse…just not the same. We would spend eight hours together Monday through Friday because we had to. Then we would hang out with each other a few hours more depending on what afterschool sport or club with which we were involved. And then we would make plans to see each other over the weekend. As adults, we don’t have that kind of time or commitment. But I’m sure glad we did back then.

So where am I going with this story? I still don’t know. Maybe I’m wasting time trying to make sense out of the 1990 bond. Perhaps it’s not something to be analyzed and dissected. Perhaps it’s simply something to be enjoyed. I’ve heard it said that beauty and mystery go hand in hand. I guess the beauty of the closeness of this group will remain just that…a mystery. When it’s all said and done, it really doesn’t matter why we’re so tight. I’m just thankful that we are.

I hear my teenage daughter use the term, squad, all the time. Squads are basically modern day cliques. Groups of friends with commonalities who hang out together. Our class had our share of squads back in the day too. Jocks, hippies, nerds, preppies, etc. But they were never mutually exclusive. It was common for a jock and a hippy to hang out. We were a very amicable group. And I see that characteristic carried over in our adult lives today. You don’t have to be from the class of 1990 to hang out with us. When we get together…everyone is welcome…and everyone is made to feel that way.

When I began my career as an author, it was a rough start. Our books would sell like whatever the opposite of hotcakes are. Paydays were very few and very far between. Logic told me to beg for my old job back at the bank. People told me this would happen. I was given literal lists of reasons I would fail. But guess who didn’t fall into the aforementioned group? That’s right…the James Wood High School Class of 1990. I’ve never mentioned it publically before, but had it not been for the all the support via social media, phone calls, hand-written letters, and the familiar faces showing up at book signings (and often times being the only ones there), I may have chosen to throw in the towel. But I didn’t. And it was in part to the supportive folks from 1990.

And whether or not I would have succeeded as a writer or not, this outreach made me think of the letter George Bailey received at the end of “It’s A Wonderful Life.” It read, “Dear George: Remember no man is a failure who has friends. Thanks for the wings! Love, Clarence.” No matter what happens from this point forward, I’ll know I was always part of something bigger than just me. I am proud to be a small part of the Class of 1990.

If you’re reading this and you’re a member of our class, you know what you mean to me and how special our group is. If you’re reading this and happen to fall outside our group of 511 former students, remember two things. A. You’re always welcome to hang out with us. And B. Take stock of your life. I guarantee you have a group you belong to of which you can relate. Maybe it’s your old fraternity or sorority. Your civic club. Your church. Your extended family. Your co-workers. We all have a special bond with certain others. Here’s hoping you recognize yours and enjoy your time with them.