Maybe it’s just me, but 50 years ain’t what it used to be
50 years has a way of compressing
By Tim Wilson
I’m hitting another of those milestones that are a slap-in-the-face reminder of how many trips I’ve made around the sun.
Just booked a trip to my college alma mater for our 45th reunion. You may ask why the 45th is a milestone rather than the 50th. Well, it’s a 1,000-mile-plus trip and I don’t get out there that often. So, in a reluctant acknowledgment of aging, I can’t rule out the possibility that I or my classmates may not be around in another five years. As my wife pointed out in blessing my solo excursion, you just never know.
Registering for the reunion had no shortage or reminders that I will be among the older alums attending. First, there’s that dropdown list of years to indicate when you graduated that involves a lot of scrolling. My class is at the point where there are more than twice as many class years with living alums that followed us as there are classes that preceded us.
It also was made clear that times have changed since I went to college in 1976 with ambitions of being the next Woodward or Bernstein. Back then, I enrolled in and graduated with a degree in journalism from the university college of the same name. Now what we called the J-school is under the umbrella of the “College of Communication.” I’ll reserve my rant on that for another time.
Looking ahead to my college reunion next month and my 50th high school reunion next year, I’m coming face to face with the fact that time marches on and leaves its footprints on your face and all over your body. It will be a while until I see most of them in person, but photos shared on social media by classmates have me asking “how did THEY get so OLD.”
I know you are thinking, “Hey pal, have you looked in the mirror lately?” But I chalk up my shock at the more mature appearance of my classmates to the same phenomenon experienced when others see your kids after five or 10 years. You watch your kids change and age gradually over time. But to your friend or relative who hasn’t seen them in years, your kids look drastically different than what they recall. When you look in the mirror you might see “subtle” changes. Looking at classmates from long ago, your first thoughts might be “who’s that” or even “what happened to him?” Guess what? They are asking the same things.
My approaching reunion is just another confrontation with what I call the “50 years ago effect.” No matter the year, there are always historic events we turn our attention to when it has been 50 years since they occurred. In 2025, some events we look back to include the end of the Vietnam war, the movie “Jaws” hitting theaters and Bruce Springsteen releasing “Born to Run,” all in 1975. And those of us who lived through those things ask in unison, “how could it be 50 years since (fill in the blank).”
Growing up in the Boston area, 2025 brings up two big memories from 50 years ago. While the rest of the country was looking forward to the bicentennial in 1976, in Boston in 1975 we were already celebrating the 200th anniversary of the Battles of Lexington and Concord in 1775. It sounds cliché but I remember the events of April 1975 like they were yesterday. A friend and I rode our bicycles to Lexington in hopes of seeing the re-enactment of the battle. But we arrived just as it ended, not realizing we would have had to leave Cambridge in the dark to get there by 5:15 a.m. We were able to ride along as the redcoats and minute men marched to the Old North Bridge in Concord and watched from the banks of the Concord River as President Ford spoke on the bridge.
While I can’t fathom that bike ride was 50 years ago, I thought a lot about that day in 1975 going into this year. With a small group of friends that grew into a group of 150 cyclists, this time around we re-enacted the ride of Paul Revere on April 18 from the North End of Boston to Lexington and Concord. I’m not counting on being here for the 300th anniversary but I’m satisfied with this year’s new memory.
The other big memory from 1975 came courtesy of our beloved Boston Red Sox. While they lost the World Series that year, the Sox gave us a Game 6 at Fenway Park that will never be forgotten. It was not hard to believe 50 years has passed when I watched on TV as members of the 1975 Sox were introduced on Opening Day at Fenway. Our heroes have most definitely aged, especially Yaz.
Despite the evidence otherwise, I still struggle to accept that I was on the verge of adulthood (at least chronologically) 50 years ago. This gets even harder to grasp when I do what I call comparative historical math. It’s my way of looking at a period of time in my life, compared to a historical time period of the same length. Here’s how it works.
I’m 66 years old, born in 1959. Someone who was 66 in 1959 was born in 1893. So, for that person, looking back 50 years took them to 1909. In 1909, Fenway Park had not yet been built nor had the Titanic. Planes were relatively new, commercial radio broadcasts did not exist, and World War I was five years away. From my perspective today, 1909 and 1959 were different worlds. I don’t think that way when comparing 1975 to 2025 – but I imagine my kids do.
When you’ve lived it, 50 years has a way of compressing. But when it’s 50 years of history before your time, it seems like eons. It just doesn’t seem fair that when you have a lot of life left to live, 50 years seems so far away until you get there, and then your days are dwindling.
I guess the lesson is that whether you’re 16 or 66, make the most of every day and don’t take tomorrow for granted. When you’re lucky enough to be able to look back 50 years, savor it and seize whatever time the future holds for you. Don’t dwell on the dropdown lists.
About the author: Tim Wilson is a lifelong resident of Massachusetts. He is passionate about his family, Marquette University, bicycling and all Boston sports.