A note about class notes

A year or so ago, I blogged about my view of class notes. Based on some e-mails I have received, I thought it was time to republish that post, which is as true today as it was in 2009, when I first wrote it:

My periodic e-mails elicit responses from time to time, some of which suggest that classmates who have not written books, made movies, launched companies or been appointed by presidents sometimes feel like they have nothing of note to share.

Although it is true that I tend to highlight public successes -- often because I read about it on the internet -- I do not believe that this is the only worthy news of our class. Quite the opposite. The every day accomplishments of our classmates -- be they birth of a child, the graduation of a child from school, finding the time to get together with old friends, the celebration of a hobby or a cool trip, fighting for a cause -- are every bit as deserving of coverage on our class site as our more common fair. I am reminded of how true this is every Fall.

Eleven years ago, my little brother, Luke, died suddenly. Luke was not a fancy guy. He tended bar, managed restaurants and, in the summer before he died, was a white water rafting guide in Wyoming. He never graduated from college and sometimes looked like Grizzly Adams. Yet, he had a huge impact on people because of his kind and generous spirit, and his adventurous way through life.

The first Saturday after Labor Day, we get together with his friends to have a charity golf event so we can send kids to the summer camp Luke attended. We thought initially that we would do the tournament for a year or two. After all, what had he done that would bring people together year after year? Eleven years later, we are planning another tournament, and will get together with 100 or so people who will travel from all over the country to be there. At the end of our day together, this group will lift their glasses and remember their old friend. More than a couple of the kids who will be there are named after Luke. A fitting tribute to a wonderful life, that was completely devoid of the sorts of accomplishments I often report.

Luke's life is a steady and humbling reminder to me about how important the little things are, and how rich a life can be even without accolades. I have every confidence that the lives of our classmates -- whether heralded or not -- are just as full of wonder as Luke's was.

So, if you'd like to share the events of your life, even if they don't involve something fancy, I for one will look forward to reading about it.