Who's the mystery author of The Old Class Ring?

THE OLD CLASS RING

Walking through the Mall the other day I passed one of those gold merchant, island stalls. As I was glancing at his wares, the merchant smiled in the typical friendly manner of a successful entrepreneur as he looked for any sign of an affinity I might have for his wares. Spotting the ring on my little finger, his expert eye recognized the gold content of the ring was vastly higher than anything on the market today. Knowing that the piece could be melted down and would turn a fine profit for him, the merchant again smiled and politely asked, “How much do you want for the ring?” Taken by surprise as I rarely wear the ring anymore, I glanced down and looked at the old high school class ring on my little finger. It was on my little finger as it was a little tight and hard to take off even when I could slip it on my ring finger. You know what I mean; weight changing from 165 lbs. in high school to 190 lbs. now. Damn, I got to get back down to 180 lbs. like I was a couple of months ago.

“Well,” I replied to the merchant, “I really haven’t thought about selling it. Let me think about how I can put a price on it.” “Let’s see”, I wondered. Thoughts flashed through my mind in no particular order or sequence, just delightful memories.

It would have been the spring of 1957 that we ordered our rings. The price I can not even recall, but it was a pretty good price in those days. Even though it would take some effort to pay for it, my folks had agreed to buy it for me as a reward for nearing graduation. Come fall, our class would receive our rings and we would start wearing them as “seniors.” Ah yes, we had reached the pinnacle of our young lives.

The fall semester finally arrived and shortly thereafter our class rings were delivered. What pride we had as everyone would ask to see our new ring. The under classmen would look and touch them in reverence with anticipation of their own eventual rise to our level of achievement.

The cool nights of fall weather announced the arrival of football practice and Friday night games. During practice and games our rings came off and were safely stored in the coaches’ office until we returned to collect them. After our Friday night games with our class ring proudly displayed on our fingers, we ascended to the gymnasium for an evening of dancing. If we had a particular date or were there as a single, we would have a great time with the young ladies.

Glancing at my ring, I see it is slightly “out-of-round.” That was from the time I got it slammed in a locker door. The ring saved my finger from a lot of pain and injury.

Some of the fellows even started “exchanging rings,” “going steady” that is, with their girlfriend. Ah, isn’t young love wonderful?

Well, the holidays passed and we entered our final spring semester. A virtual “whirlwind” of events then began. At the Senior Prom, where we were the guests of honor, our class rings accompanied us, verifying our status and prominence. And then came our Senior Trip to New York City. Of course, like an old friend, our class rings accompanied us as we visited and experienced the beautiful, large and important city.

Finally the day came. The day that we had been waiting some twelve years for finally arrive. The day we had, oh so often, wished could be “moved-up on the calendar” so that we could go out into the world and start our new lives. Graduation Day had finally arrived.

Dressed in a cap and gown, and wearing our class ring of course, we walked down the isle to the stage and awaited the activities that would lead to our receiving our diplomas. Finally after the appropriate speeches and music, our individual names were called and we proudly walked across the stage. Our right hand shook the congratulating hand of the school Superintendent and our left hand wearing our class ring accepted our diploma. That evening was a time of happiness and celebration.

Later that summer of 1958 as I prepared to go away to college, I sadly had to part with my old class ring. High School memorabilia wouldn’t be appropriate at college, don’t ya know. Into my dresser at home it went and there it stayed for several years until I was “out on my own” and I retrieved it to stay in my jewelry box through the years.

As I now glance down at that old high school class ring, there are a few minor scratches here and there but it is still in pretty good shape. The nicks and minor scratches all represent a piece of my life, an experience, a moment of joy or pain.

Returning to reality, I turn to the merchant and say, “No thanks, there is not enough money to buy such a large piece of my life.”

I had to turn quickly and walk away because the tears began to fill my eyes and run down my cheeks.