The 60th Reunion

60th Reunion On Friday, November 7th, 2025, I was the first person from the St. Vincent’s Hospital School of Nursing, Class of 1965 to walk into Jack Doyle’s Irish ☘️ Pub. My husband Bob and I had left our home in Latham NY early enough so as to make certain that we would get there in time for the 12 noon meetup time. After all, our 60 year reunion is a once in a lifetime event that I absolutely didn’t want to miss. We figured if we made excellent time and arrived early we could sit and chat in the car for a while before I went into the Pub. We made fabulous time until we were about a mile away from my destination. We hadn’t driven into Manhattan in many years so we were not prepared for the massive traffic we had to deal with once we reached midtown. We crept around the last couple of blocks but it turned out the streets were so crowded, there wasn’t a spot available to pull the car over to the curb, so when we got close to Jack Doyle’s I had to grab my pocketbook and Nursing Cape and jump out of the car. I opened the front door and stepped into a winter wonderland of Christmas greenery, sparkling white lights and shiny ornaments. Wow, how very magical I thought as I walked over to a young woman who was unstacking chairs in the relatively empty Pub. There was a handful of people sitting at the bar when I arrived but not one single sign of a reunion. I asked the young lady the whereabouts of the St. Vincent’s Reunion group and she looked at me rather confused before answering. For a moment, I thought maybe something had changed and I missed the email. Or maybe my 80 year old brain messed up and I was at the wrong Pub or worse yet, I travelled to New York City on the wrong day. In case you’re not there yet, when one turns 80, remembering details is no longer a strong point. But almost as soon as these fears entered my mind, I dismissed them. After all, I had reviewed the details over and over a million times as this was something I didn’t want to miss. Finally the young lady responded in her sweet Irish brogue “ Oh yeah, but we’re not quite ready yet” Thank God, I thought as I asked the location of the Ladies Room. Another consequence of turning 80, is the relief at knowing a bathroom is nearby. As I was exiting the stall and was washing my hands, I overheard a familiar Brooklyn accent and it made me happy. When the Ladies Room door opened, I fell into the embrace of a very dear classmate, Gail Dougherty Checkett. It was at that moment that I realized the depth and true emotional implications of this reunion. …….to be continued When I exited the restroom, I watched the staff preparing our alcove area on the first floor. I believe the initial plan was that we were to have a room on the second floor but because stairs would be problematic for some of us, the Pub made these necessary adjustments. As older women walked through the front door and started walking towards our area in the room, one by one these “elderly women” slipped away and my young classmates appeared in their places. I need a scotch and soda I said as I walked over to a darling young waitress by the bar. I took a couple of comforting sips and I remembered our welcoming party our first night at 158 West 12th Street. An upper classmate sang” Scotch and Soda, Mud in your eye, Baby do I feel high, Oh me, oh my, Do I feel high”. Yes, I certainly felt high but it wasn’t the alcohol. Rather I felt something so monumental, it almost took my breath away. All of a sudden I started to cry. I turned toward the back of our little alcove in an attempt to stop myself from letting go as I knew if I let it out then and there I would be sobbing hysterically. This was the type of emotion that would be difficult to contain even though, quite honestly I really didn’t understand the full meaning of my tears. Thank God, Missy and Pat had the reins of this event firmly under their control. I was a bit of a wet noodle. The time flew by but, honestly, we are older now and it was probably just about the right amount of time for one day. Nonetheless, it made me wish we were somewhere together where we could sleep overnight and regroup the next day.. Every second when we were together was magical for me. Since those magical hours ended, I’ve done a lot of reflecting and here is what I’ve come up as to why it was all so emotional and so monumental for me. In this group of 22 women, I could feel the presence of all our beloved classmates including all those who weren’t able to make the trip for one reason or another and even all those of us who have already died. We didn’t have an official Mass together on Friday, but in my humble opinion, we had a very real Communion with all the beautiful members of the SVH, Class of 1965 Communion of Saints. I also thought about the impact of all these “cream of the crop” nurses who graduated at 4pm on Tuesday, June 15, 1965 at St. Patrick’s Cathedral and I imagined the vast impact of all these loving, healing hands and hearts over these past 60 years. I thought of the rippling effects on every single person whose lives were touched by my classmates. Dear God, if that isn’t monumental!! I am so honored to have known you and to be numbered among you. I want to be remembered as a member of the St.Vincent’s Hospital School of Nursing, Class of 1965 throughout eternity. Thank you for allowing me to be a part of you.