Reunions
Reunions provide a great opportunity to reconnect with classmates and Pacific! Each year, reunions spark spirit in alumni, faculty, students and administrators. Reunions are a valued service that bring friends together and gives everyone the opportunity to make new ones. Reunions allow everyone in the Pacific family to reminisce and relive their fond memories and experiences at Pacific.
Pacific Alumni Weekend 2010 Photos
Alpha Chi Omega Reunion
AKL Reunion 2010
Upcoming Reunions
Rhizomia Reunion
October 23, 2010
Class of 1961 50th Reunion
May 6 &7, 2011
Pacific Alumni Weekend
June 10, 11, 12, 2011
Confessions of a Reunion Addict
by Michelle (Wells) Grant `75 COP (aka Bugs)
“You look the same!” He said.
“You haven’t changed a bit!” I said.
“I would have known you anywhere!” He said.
“And you look better than ever!” I said.
We lied and lied and lied.
Well, sort of. Because in many ways, behind the extra girth, snow on the rooftop and double chins, we are still the same. This is what I discovered at the recent Pacific Alumni Weekend, and in fact, is what I discover at every reunion I attend. Because, I must confess, I am a reunion addict.
Why do I love reunions? I feel that our college buddies are some of the most important friends we’ll ever know in our lives. They knew us when we were shaping, growing, and trying to figure out who the heck we were supposed to be. Unlike friendships we’ve forged in the years since college, our Pacific friends knew us at our core, before we signed up for all of the grown-up stuff. When I reunite with old friends, the thirty-plus years simply fall away as I bring them back into the folds of my life.
Reunions mean time travel. They mean that for one weekend we can squeeze back into our twenty year old skins and look into the young faces of old friends who knew us when life was less complicated. We mingle beneath the same trees, walk the same sidewalks, sit on the same sun-baked fraternity walls and catch up. In a heartbeat one hug closes the distance of the years between us. We catch ourselves being hilariously and shamefully immature. We forgive and forget, even bury the hatchet if there is a hatchet to be buried. We come away a little younger and a little lighter.
All weekend I hear the squeals of recognition, the nicknames shouted out, followed by wine-sloshing, rib-crushing hugs. Then the lies.
“Weezer??? You haven’t changed a bit!”
It doesn’t get much better than that.