Tom Herre and his three caddies prepare to repair to the golf course. Nancy Butzer, Dobson, and Len Henderson with the

1961 Army-Navy game program.

Riveting shot of guys rained out of golf, sitting in bar, More guys sitting in the bar. What are they looking at?

Watching TV.

This is what they are watching: a garbled satellite broadcast Len Henderson and a masked woman, later identified.

of Army-Central Michigan.

I have found nobody who can identify any of these people. Don & Ann Karrer, Jim & Carole Ellis, Phil Burns.

The peripatetic Burns again with former CIA employee Ann Shakers and Movers: Dominy and our Williamsburg leader,

Blumhardt, Glen, and Al & Lynda Rushatz. Jackson Reavill.

These two asked that they not be identified in the photo.

One hundred twenty-two souls gathered in Williamsburg, VA the first weekend of October, year of our Lord 2005, for their own reasons. For many of the 62 members of the Class of ’62 who showed, it was for golf. For many of the 58 spouses, guests, sisters, and squeezes, it may have been for the once-in-a-lifetime chance to see grown men and women dressed in authentic colonial garb actually manufacturing candles as it was done in 1650 . . . zzzzzzzzz. For Mike Rankin, who raised his hand with us on The Plain on July 1, 1958, and his wife, Cyndy, it was truly a reunion of the first rank.

Relieved of the pressures of buses to catch and tours to take, the six score sexagenarians (I don’t think we have any septuagenarians yet) relaxed, drank in moderation, dined, chatted, danced, laughed, gathered in small groups, and went to bed at decent hours.

The organizers – the Reavills, Spragues, and Willis’ -- had chosen the site well, the Hospitality House rivaling San Antonio’s Menger Hotel for its central location and charm. William and Mary College was across the street and Colonial Williamsburg was maybe three blocks away. The golf venue was kind of ritzy, but Ed Sprague had negotiated a rock-bottom price. The second day’s round was rained out, to be sure, but nobody seemed to have any trouble figuring out what to do with the five hours of their lives they had just got back. We gathered in the bar and lunched. We waited for the Army-Central Michigan game to come on the satellite feed. When the satellite feed pooped out, we stayed in the bar anyway. Dave Phillips met Tom Moore’s sister who was born in the same hospital at West Point as Dave within days of each other. They must have heard each other’s cries. Ann Blumhardt revealed details of her CIA career and nobody has since outed her. A few guys even talked to their wives.

Barry Butzer and some other friends of Nancy’s presented her with her birthday present: Dobson, the Shaking Butler, a full-sized mannequin who trembles when anyone approaches. Many thought he looked like Ed Hamilton.

Len Henderson produced a copy of the 1961 Army-Navy football game program, complete with articles about the top players supposedly written by their roommates. We saw 44-year old photos of, for example, Al Rushatz’ OAO, Lynda.

At the Saturday evening dinner, Art Brown relinquished the trophy for the most outstanding golf shot but I cannot remember to whom and for what shot. Maybe this information will come to light later. We had a speaker who overcame our worries that he would not be able to hold the attention of such a loose group, but he was marvelous, making us feel as if we were present during the early days of the Civil War as it played out in the Tidewater area.

Everybody was glad they went and looks forward to the next mini, hinted to be in Monterey or Maine. All hail Jackson and the Williamsburg Mini-Reunion Committee.