The convocation was held at Brandon University.
Below is the view from where I sat. I didn’t talk to anyone. For speeches, I listened to the principal complain about the students not getting to class on time; and the class valedictorian, who Tony didn’t know, admitted that the students skipped classes.
Tony’s name is in the middle of the roster.
Once a Spartan, always a Spartan.
Tony: Class of 26.
Dad: Class of 82.
To be honest, Tony never felt a part of the school, like I did, all those years ago. We both finished our high school with one year in Brandon after puttering around in other places for the eleven previous years: Tony in China; I on military bases. We never really felt part of Brandon. I had to get out after graduating. Tony now feels as I did. So there are parallels.
We left the ceremony as soon as we could.
When we got home, his grandmother was full of complaints about him.
Ho hum and dreariness.
Tony is sitting at the end.