RIVER CITY JOURNAL: THE REUNION: A GOLDEN DAY WITH SILVER-LINED MEMORIES

It takes a get-together every half-century or so to undesscore the plain truth that good values are still alive and well.

Right off, let me say that I made a big mistake in telling you in previous columns that last Saturday's reunion at Shady Nook School was the first-ever such get-together.

I hadn't been there five minutes before I met a woman who set me straight. There was a reunion in the late 1940s, she said.

OK. Now we know these shindigs are held, on average, about every half-century.

For me, it was the first-ever. And what a wonderful day it turned out to be. The mood was as bright as the glorious late-summer day. And the food. Well, I'll attempt to do the food justice in just a minute.

I didn't get an exact head count, but there was a really good-sized crowd of folks who had attended the one-room Shady Nook School over on Greenwood Valley. Most of them, of course, brought their spouses. A few brought grandchildren who were grownups.

One of the best parts of the reunion was learning about the history of the old school. The Brown family, which probably has some of the deepest roots and the most children ever to attend, had a 19th century relative who helped build the original school house in -- as close as they can figure -- about 1885.

When I went to school there in the early 1950s, the building was probably pretty much the same as when it was constructed. After the school closed in the late 1950s, it was taken over by Shady Nook Missionary Baptist Church, which had held services there for years. The church expanded the building a couple of time, but you can still see the simple outline of the one-room school if you squint through the haze of old memories.

After getting acquainted with everyone, most of whom I hadn't seen in more 35 years, it was time to eat. My mother had fried enough chicken for all of China and most of India, plus a pie and vegetable dishes. Most everyone else followed suit. Some brought big pots of ham and beans and fresh-baked cornbread -- one batch was still in the cast-iron skillet in which it was baked.

I'm a top contender when it comes to eating well at church socials and reunions. I must say, however, that there was too much food at the Shady Nook reunion. This is not -- please! -- a complaint. Just an observation.

In spite of barely being able to swallow another bite, I hit the desserts with gusto. One of them was a fresh peach cobbler, the kind you dream about if you're a cobbler lover like me.

This cobbler was outstanding. I know. I took a double helping. I ate all of it just to make sure it was good. The peach cobbler was so sweet that when I took a sip of my soft drink, it tasted like unsweetened lemonade. That's sweet.

Right before we ate, one of the Brown girls came over to tell me that their mother, the famous baker of cinnamon rolls about whom I have bragged everywhere, was sorry she hadn't felt up to baking any for me on this special day. I tried not to let it show that I was disappointed.

But just a few minutes later a round tin container was pressed into my hands. I knew just by the weight of it that it was full of sweet gold: Mrs. Brown's cinnamon rolls. The first message must have been a ruse to throw off anyone else who might have been looking for cinnamon rolls. Whatever, you have no idea how lucky I thought I was.

I'll be real honest. The polite thing to do would have been to share. I guess I'm not very polite after all.

And one more thing. When I said Mrs. Brown's cinnamon rolls are the best in the country, I was wrong. The truth is, they're the best in the world. You'd know that already, if I'd share.

When it came time to take photographs, I learned that there were four people in attendance who went to Shady Nook School in the 1920s. One of them was the world-famous Mrs. Brown. The largest group, of course, was the 1950s. This was the Baby Boom generation.

In addition to the Browns, there were McFaddens and Clyburns and Coles and Manns and Riches. Clifford Rich, who was our neighbor on Kelo Valley, got the prize for traveling the farthest for the reunion. He lives near Amarillo, Texas, now. I also met a fellow who went to the school in the 1940s and had lived on Kelo Valley just up the road from our farm. He now lives near Hutchinson, Kan.

The prize for oldest attendee went to cinnamon-roll expert Mrs. Brown. Because all the finalists in this category were women, there was some concern whether they would reveal their ages. That lasted about five seconds. "I'm 83," Mrs. Brown said.

I could go on and on about all the memories and all the new things I learned about people I first met more than 45 years ago. Every minute of the day was fun and interesting. The group decided to have another reunion next year instead of waiting the traditional 50 years until 2047. We passed a hat and collected $115 to defray some of the expenses and to make a donation to the church to help with some of its bills. The church was gracious enough to let us use the old school grounds, so it was the least we could do.

But the best part of the reunion was more than happy memories and getting reacquainted. The best part was seeing that the human spirit is, indeed, strong and vibrant among all those who got their book learning in a one-room school in the remote Ozark hills.

These people had hard lives any way you measure such things. They fought rocky fields and scrambled over rough hills to cut timber. They hunted whatever they could eat. They wore hand-me-downs that already had been handed down more times than you could count. They went barefoot from the first warm spring day until the first frost of autumn.

But it wasn't a life of deprivation, because they were strong families -- and proud too. And they haven't abandoned those invincible values. They used them to build industrious and rewarding lives.

I'll tell you what the reunion meant to me: I can't think of anything more special than being a part of the Shady Nook School family. Everyone agrees we got the best education on earth. Some of us even looked at the old schoolhouse and wondered if holding classes there again wouldn't make just a little better world.

That's my report, folks. I know many of you who never went to Shady Nook have had similar experiences at your own reunions. I guess that's why we go: A visit to the past allows us to touch the familiar and happy times we call our youth. I wouldn't trade anything for it. Not even Mrs. Brown's cinnamon rolls.

~R. Joe Sullivan is the editor of the Southeast Missourian.