Class of 2020: Drive-in, drive-by, cap and gown

Early on in this pandemic, there was behind-the-scenes chatter among loyal followers of this blog (mostly youngish alums, several of whom have been featured in the Pandemic Papers!) that the “tone” of my posts was rather “depressing.” While I’m readily admit to “guilty as charged,” I think it is consistent with my personality of realistic (but not pessimistic, at least I don’t think so?) assessments of situations. Let’s face it: Those early days (three-plus months ago, and into April and May) were rather daunting. Not that we are out of the woods with this thing – not at ALL! Seems like there won’t be a second wave as predicted, but rather just an undulating and hopefully not endless series of mini-waves, one of which we are riding now. People! We need a VACCINE. But … I digress (as usual).  

As many of you know, my daughter graduated from high school the other night (Thursday, June 25, 2020). The Class of 2020 (no matter what level – high school, college, post-graduate, etc.) will be forever marked by this unforgettable year. I was explaining to Natalie that your high school graduation year is a permanent marker, kind of like your social security number or your birthday or the year you were born. Ask anyone of any age what year they graduated high school, and they’ll reflexively tell you. Not so much with many other life questions. Well, there is no doubt that any of us will forget the uniqueness of the Class of 2020. For our newly minted Forever Foxes, among the many things they were robbed of was a good and proper sendoff with commencement exercises. I’m certain Marist will do something, someday, for this special group. But for now, there is and was nothing.

My daughter’s graduation ceremony was held at the Hyde Park Drive-In, right next to the Farm Lane parking lot and across the street from the FDR Library and Museum. In the days and weeks leading up to the graduation, there was the usual and predictable complaining from parents beforehand, with edgy social media posts and petitions to be signed, about how our children were being robbed of this once-in-a-lifetime moment, and how the school district should be doing better by them. With all due respect? Hogwash, people. It’s a global pandemic. Life’s inconvenient at times, especially in 2020. We all need to adapt and adjust. And by golly, that’s what we did. I’ll admit to going into the idea of a drive-in graduation, where we’d have to sit in our cars and trucks for many hours, with a little skepticism. Here’s the thing! It far exceeded our expectations. It was an awesome, memorable night all around. This, in large part, can be traced to the outstanding leadership of the FDR High School principal, Mr. Rick Pardy. Mr. Pardy was a former colleague in Marist athletics, having been on the football coaching staff for many years. The guy is a born leader. He is retiring this summer and he sure went out with a bang. Nicely done, Rick! Do you remember your high school graduation? If you’re my age or thereabouts, the answer is “probably not.” You remember the YEAR but not the actual ceremony. This one, we’ll never forget; so, in some ways, it may actually turn out to have been BETTER than the “usual” graduation at the high school. It was an awesome night, truly memorable and better than we could have anticipated. Neat!

It helped that the weather was perfect. Sunny, low humidity, everything that’s great about summer weather (as I type this, it’s pouring rain out … that would have stunk). We took pictures in front of our house, marveled at the amazing generosity of the great neighbors on our short, dead-end street. And then we piled into the van and headed to … Rite Aid in East Park. Yes, the parking lot of a drug store. Natalie got together with several of her close friends at Rite Aid, so that we could caravan together and be sure to park near each other at the Drive-In. In what was a quintessential 2020 moment, the girls took pictures on the lawn of Rite Aid. Of course! This is what goes for normal this summer, right? We caravanned over, proceeded through the FDR Library and Museum, where the high school faculty and staff were parked, waving and cheering at us all. Tremendous idea, great spirit, perfect start to the night. We then drove across the street to the drive-in and waited for the sun to set – remember, we were at a drive-in and you can only see the big screen properly with darkness. While we waited, everyone got out of their cars, got together, took pictures, and mingled with friends. After being cooped up for months and months, it felt good to socialize, to feel sort of normal. Social distancing was not exactly happening. Some wore masks, others didn’t. But we were outside, in the beautiful fresh air, where the risk of infection is lower. Is this rationalizing? Did we feel guilty about this? Slightly. But come on, man. We have to live a little. No one was irresponsible; the mood was light and festive and about as “normal” as you can get for 2020.

When it was time to start the video on the big screen, everyone went back to their cars and trucks, inside or just outside of them, so we could hear the audio. The speeches, videos and presentations were pre-recorded but it didn’t matter. They were awesome and we were together as a community, for the first time in what has seemed like forever. Natalie’s name and picture was announced early. It was getting late rather quickly (for me). Did I recline the seat and shut my eyes for a little while? I’ll let YOU figure that one out. The names rattled off, as they do at graduations. Horns honked, air horns were used, whoops and hollers were heard. Music to everyone’s ears, even a drowsy old guy. At the end, Mr. Pardy was lofted into the air on a big lift and did his traditional F-D-R chant that all Presidents know so well. For the families who were in a rush to beat the traffic out on Route 9, they missed this final incredible memory of a truly memorable night. We’ll never forget the Class of 2020. Every one of them. Here’s to you, kid. Here’s to all of you.