Last month was the 25th anniversary of the Class of 1990’s graduation. No more games of three-man, no more papers and no more dorm-food dinners! Time to face the real world which in 1990 was during the Reagan-Bush Recession, the upcoming reunification of Germany and Iraq’s invasion of Kuwait in three months. I fell short by 12 hours so I wouldn’t be celebrating. Good thing too, I wasn’t ready yet. Helen on the other hand, she was set (mostly) and she graciously wrote this brief contribution on what could be remembered.
Take it away Helen…
So I was given the assignment of writing about my graduation from Marquette 25 years ago this last May. (It was made as a request but OK –Steve) It should have been a simple enough task, but I have to say that after 25 years, I recall very little about that day or any of those days. It comes back to me in bit and pieces…I do remember things like, it was really cold for May, and it snowed, which shocked my East Coast family.
I also have brief flashes of the night before graduation. I was clutching my money from selling back textbooks as we all walked to Good Time Charlie’s to celebrate, exactly who was there has been wiped from my memory. (I was there one evening, I recall we agreed on playing “Lady” by Little River Band on the jukebox –Steve.) I am proud to admit we still possess a few of those really big shot glasses Paul stole that night. I have told my children about “Uncle Dougie” shooting off bottle rockets and his unfortunate miscalculation involving a tree and a lot of people screaming and running away from the rocket as it came crashing back to the ground to explode.
I do know my sister, Jeanne, spent the night in my dorm room and we were late getting to the Bradley Center because I as ridiculously hungover, and Paul was the envy of many since he was in possession of a Mountain Dew! I definitely know I sat next Chris Morrissey during the ceremony because I wanted to beat the shit out of his sister who kept popping up like some crazed paparazzi though out the whole thing taking pictures of him while screeching, “CHRIIIIIIISTOPHER SMIIIIILE!!” I dozed off through the commencement speaker (Who was it? –Steve) but woke up every time my tassel hit me in the face. When I walked across the stage for the separate ceremony for the College of Arts & Science, the dean mispronounced my last name! It’s so hard to pronounce a name like MARCOTTE when you are, in fact, a dean at MARQUETTE!!!
After the ceremony, my family went out to lunch with Paul’s family. I have no idea where we went, I only remember that during the meal I fell asleep at the table with my head propped up on my elbows. When Paul gently nudged me, I was so startled, I actually screamed like a lunatic, which was the exact impression I was hoping to make on my future in-laws. And that’s truly all I remember.
My family left for the airport afterwards and I stayed behind. I had two classes to take in Summer School since I was not technically graduating until August but I was allowed to “walk” with my class in May. I went back to Mashuda Hall, packed up my life and moved a few blocks down to an apartment where I spend the Summer…and that is a whole different set of fractured memories…
– Helen Silder (née Marcotte)
Helen, bravo and thank you. Excellent post. The annoying sibling photographer definitely paints a picture reminiscent of the American Pie films. Well done. I never thought I would live to hear of a day when Mountain Dew would be a sought after commodity, even during the End Times.
I apologize if this was exactly on time. Helen was gracious enough to write this during her busy schedule as a teacher and raising two teenage sons. We did go over it a couple times to tweak elements for style, petty shit like grammar all the while my goal was to keep her unique voice intact.
If you enjoyed this and would like read more from Helen, I know I do, post a comment or write to me directly. I will gladly forward your compliments to her. Like most intelligent, thoughtful Americans, Helen is reluctant because she feels her writing is inferior. Nonsense! Good, effective writing for a well-educated person is on par with riding a bike. You never forget the essentials. Oh you’ll lose your balance initially, skin your knees and then after a couple little mishaps, boom! it’s as if you never stopped riding during your prime years as a kid. I for one would love to read what happened while Helen was taking those Summer classes. All I recall was one class having our mutual friend Hoser in it and she often had to nudge him awake. Pretty boring course I’m guessing?