The KC Class of 1978 thirtieth anniversary reunion was held in Kingston on the weekend of September 12-14.
The brainchild of David Batts, the event reunited KC old boys from Jamaica, the US and England for an unforgettable weekend of fun and reminiscence.
Despite the inevitable last minute cancellations, those in attendance experienced the indescribable thrill of, for one brief moment, literally turning back the hands of time and collectively reliving the memories of our high school years.
The reunion kicked off with a reception on Friday evening, graciously hosted by David and his wife, Michele, at their home in Hope Pastures. The anticipation of seeing fellow school-mates, some of whom you have not seen since leaving KC, was electrifying. As we each entered the room, the challenge from the gathering was to identify those already present, which, after so many years, was not always an easy task.
While some looked remarkably the same (Izett McCalla, Michael Williams, Morton Rose, among others), most of us obviously found it difficult to readily identify every person, much to the delight of the gathering. However, sheepish grins of embarrassment quickly gave way to warm embraces and handshakes as old friendships and acquaintances were renewed.
Bello holds court
As the night progressed, others arrived, some coming directly from the airport to the reception. Soon a gathering of approximately twenty of us were present, a bottle of our favorite beverage in hand, cameras clicking, as the room buzzed with conversation in a feverish attempt to catch up and to recapture the past.
All around the room, the memories came flooding back: our first awkward days at KC as first-formers (including, among other things, learning to tie our ties); competing academically with classmates; enjoying a cold sky-juice from Reddie on a hot summer day; form and Manning Cup matches won and lost; crushes on female teachers; playing box football at Wembley; a home-cooked lunch from Pearl or a patty and coco bread or corn bread and cheese from Mr. Chin’s shop; who was the best money football player? (from all reports, looks like Richard “Bello” Bailey was the winner and still the champion); swatting for final exams; hanging out at Cross Roads with St. Hughes girls; the heartbreak of losing Champs in 1976 to Calabar after 14 consecutive years (I cried) and the euphoria of returning the trophy to its rightful home at North Street in 1979; and great teachers such as Ms. Douglas and Douggie Forest who made lasting impressions on our lives.
The conversations continued deep into the night, interspersed with uncontrollable laughter particularly when Bello would take the floor and have us spellbound as he recounted stories from the past which left you either awe-struck or in stitches (or both). After pausing for a late dinner, and a few brief speeches, we viewed slides of our yearbooks from 1973 to graduation, which Izett painstakingly scanned, organized, and presented. More comments and laughter ensued as we watched ourselves evolve through the years from boyish innocence into adolescence, complete with the obligatory unruly afro which reflected the fashion trend of the 70s.
After Dinner at Jade Garden restaurant in Liguanea
Amid the levity, however, we were occasionally reminded of just how blessed and lucky we were to be alive and healthy as, from time to time, the question would be asked, “Wha happen to ________?” and the unfortunate response would be, “Bwoy, you wan se him drop out yuh nuh.” And what of those who were absent and unaccounted for? Where are they? Are they well? Sadly, in many cases, we may never know. Nevertheless, we continue to actively search for other 1978 alumni for future reunions.
On Saturday morning, we gathered at North Street where we were joined by other Class of 1978 alumni who were unable to make it to the Friday night reception. For some of us, it was the first time we had had returned to the campus since graduation. Despite the years and a few changes
(the football field now has grass, the buildings are now painted purple and white, the chapel is under repair; however, the pool is still a frog pond) the place was still quite familiar. And, although it was a weekend day, the campus was abuzz with activity: the cadet corps when through their paces near the lawn tennis court; groups of students milled around; and vehicles went to and fro from the campus. We drank in the sights and sounds, thrilled to be alive and present to relive these simple, nostalgic moments.
Manning cup practice match vs Waterford
Next, was a brief game of scrimmage where, despite the lack of condition, occasional flashes of the old magic could be seen from Christopher Hunt and others. After we recovered from the game, we enjoyed the traditional school lunch: patty and coco bread and corn bread and cheese. Fortune also smiled on us as, while we were at Clovelly Park, Mr. Goldsmith and Mr. Wally Johnson came by. Both are retired from KC (Mr. G is 85 and is still as solid as a rock) but nonetheless still have an ongoing love for, and interest in, the school. It was indeed a privilege and a pleasure to see them again in person, shake their hands, and thank them for all they have done for us and for KC over the years. In addition, we were fortunate to also meet former head boy, School’s Challenge team captain, and Rhode’s scholar, Stephen Vasciannie, who was on campus to help the KC School’s Challenge team prepare for the upcoming competition. This was a particular thrill for our own head boy and School’s Challenge team captain, Lincoln “Willo” Wilson. Lastly, in the afternoon, we watched a Manning Cup practice match between KC and Waterford which ended in a 0-0 draw (it’s still hard to believe we have not won the Manning Cup since 1986; however, this year’s team is among the favorites so hope springs eternal). It was truly a blessed and fun-filled day.
Mr. G still looking strong at 85
However, amid the fun and nostalgia, there were disturbing signs that our beloved alma mater faces ongoing challenges. The walls of the classroom which we used for lunch was plastered with graffiti; many of the windows in the classrooms are broken; and some buildings are clearly in need of repainting. More alarming, at the start of the school year, the Board declined to permanently appoint Rupert Hemmings as principal, plunging the school into yet another leadership crisis. While the buildings can be repainted and the windows replaced, how do you address a mindset in which students find it acceptable to scrawl graffiti on their own classroom walls? Clearly there is a need for strong, effective leadership from the administration; caring teachers; and greater parental involvement if a spirit of pride, tradition, discipline, and self-respect is to be instilled in the student body. Given the obvious need to improve the school’s infrastructure, funds were set a side from the reunion for contribution to a yet to be decided on school project. In addition, we were acutely reminded that we now are KC Old Boys and need to be involved in the venerable tradition of giving back to the school whether through affiliation with a local chapter, writing a check, or volunteering/mentoring at the school.
Nevertheless, despite its current and past shortcomings - the school was never a utopia – even its detractors grudgingly admit that there is something special about KC. What is it about KC that made our classmate, Adolph Barclay, forgo his college reunion, which was scheduled on the same weekend as the Class of 78 reunion, in his hometown of Miami, and instead incur the expense of traveling to Jamaica for his high school reunion? Or what motivated Michael Williams to cross the Atlantic from England to attend?
Good friends, good times, good memories
The answer may lie in the unique experience that only those who have attended KC can truly understand. KC has a diverse student body which is a microcosm of the Jamaican society. As a result, the boy sitting on either side of you in class may be from Norbrook or Tivoli; Chinese, Indian or Black; or rich or poor. However, these factors are irrelevant; whether trying out for the School’s Challenge team or the track team, KC is a pure meritocracy in which you rise or fall based on ability, not on race or socio-economic standing. It is a rough and tumble competitive environment, almost Darwinistic, in which a student may sometimes struggle to find his place among the best and the brightest. Yet it is this struggle, which at times strains the psyche, that ultimately stiffens the spine. The result is a feeling that if you can compete – or, at times, simply survive – at KC, you can compete anywhere. Moreover, despite the outcome of the endeavor, at the end of the day, what mattered was the spirit of fortis, that you competed, and that you were a part of an institution greater than yourself: you were a KC boy. This mindset of courage in the face of adversity would later prove to be invaluable throughout our personal, academic, athletic or professional lives.
Reliving the memories - six-a-side scrimmage at North St.
And so it is that the bond was forged among the Class of 1978. We entered KC together as boys and, similar to our biological families, competed and argued amongst each other as we transitioned into young men. But at the end of the day we were all united by a common bond: an undying love for KC and the mutual respect and friendship gained from our shared KC experience.
The reunion concluded with dinner on Saturday night at Jade Gardens in Ligunea where we enjoyed some great food, conversation (including a spirited debate on the current US presidential election), and reminiscing. Laughter abounded and you wanted the moment to go on forever but, unfortunately, all good things must come to an end – until we meet again.
While some looked remarkably the same (Izett McCalla, Michael Williams, Morton Rose, among others), most of us obviously found it difficult to readily identify every person, much to the delight of the gathering. However, sheepish grins of embarrassment quickly gave way to warm embraces and handshakes as old friendships and acquaintances were renewed.
The conversations continued deep into the night, interspersed with uncontrollable laughter particularly when Bello would take the floor and have us spellbound as he recounted stories from the past which left you either awe-struck or in stitches (or both). After pausing for a late dinner, and a few brief speeches, we viewed slides of our yearbooks from 1973 to graduation, which Izett painstakingly scanned, organized, and presented. More comments and laughter ensued as we watched ourselves evolve through the years from boyish innocence into adolescence, complete with the obligatory unruly afro which reflected the fashion trend of the 70s.
