The gate at First and Forty-ninth Street opened at seven o’clock, and as the minutes passed, people began to gather at the entrance. The point is that the rumor has become a rumor; Then with applause. Finally in the hug. Last night, the Rafael Hernandez National School was witnessing a spectacle practically unprecedented in 140 years: nearly two thousand former students – from 90-year-old men and women who studied in the middle of the post-war period, to 19-year-olds who graduate in 2024 – returned to the mosaic that had seen them running, copying, falling in love, arguing and growing up.
In the entrance courtyard of the symbolic building, hundreds of graduates from various promotions met again, kissing and hugging each other, and chatting.
Courtyards, the center of the world
In the central courtyard, under lights strung between the plane trees, two classmates from 1945 met again after decades. “You’re still the same, Torko. You’re just grey,” said one of them, though the yearbook pictures they held revealed other faces. But the phrase was enough for the past to suddenly return. No one seems to have any outstanding bills. College suspended time.
Tables are spread across the two courtyards as in a large intergenerational club. The buffet circulated at a steady pace, pie trays and glasses held aloft. The attendees wore a distinctive ribbon that identified them and determined their affiliation, as without it they could not enter.