I wish I could remember the year that Mr. Warden became principle of Glencoe High School. I think I was in my junior year, but I can't be sure. It could have been my freshman year. My memory is starting to develop worn spots and holes.

Nevertheless there we were--the four of us, a little clique all our own--trying to decide whether or not we wanted to take Psychology. "Is it hard?" seemed to be the predominant question. To which our new principle (and Psychology teacher as it turned out) said it didn't matter. Challenges were good. We should take it. So we started discussing it among ourselves along the lines of,

"So are you taking it?"

"I don't know. What else is offered?"

"Not much. [insert unremembered high school subject matter here] I guess maybe I will. Are you going to?"

"If you are."

It doesn't matter here which of the four of us were talking. It could have been any one of us. We had been a foursome for a few years now--always in the same classes before high shcool by fate rather than choice, but we liked it that way and saw no reason to change.

But not Mr. Warden. "Who are you, the Four Horsemen? What does it matter what one or the other takes. If you want to take Psychology, take it!"

And that was more or less how the Four Horsemen of Glencoe High School, good 'ole GHS, came into existance. The tag stuck until we graduated. All four of us did land in Mr. Warden's Psychology class, by the way. He deserved nothing less! :)

There's a picture in my Senior yearbook of the four of us in white T-shirts lettered, First Horseman, Second Horseman, etc. You get the picture. We must have worn them the last day of our Junior year. Which makes me wonder again if we weren't juniors when this went down. At any rate, I remember that we tried to keep the shirts covered up until we were all seated and Mr. Warden came in to see us lined up in the back. I can still see him throwing his head back and laughing, mouth wide and that tell-tale wad of white gum stuck on the top left side. He truly appreciated the effort, as we knew he would. Or we wouldn't have gone to the trouble.

I wish I could remember more. I wish I could remember better. But my gray matter might get a boost here in two weeks when the Four Horseman get together for a 25-year reunion. Our class isn't planning anything. It's just us. I have been out of touch with all of them pretty much since graduation. I remember that one of them was at my wedding but can't be sure of the others. Then I was off to Connecticut and back home again, but farther away with kids, and in-laws and all that other stuff that greases the years like Vaseline so that they slip away before you can grasp them fully. Connections fade, but the foundation is there.

How did I get here? How can I possibly have a 17-year-old son who is leaving in a little over two weeks for EUROPE!? I am just 17. Just graduating from high school and facing that snowstorm of decisions that can leave you reeling and unfortunately choosing blindly at times. But all in all I think the memories are good. And it will be fun to share them with my friends who saw me through Psych and the rest of my high school years.