Bev Breault calls herself “a proud Westporter.” She hasn’t lived here for a long time — but she still loves her hometown. (And keeps up with it via “06880.”)
The other day, she was here for her 60th Staples reunion. The classes of 1951 and ’52 got together for what Bev says were “4 days of partying.” Harry Truman may have been president when they graduated, but they know how to rock the house.
Bev sent along some thoughts. They’re not about the reunion — no one really cares about those stories, unless you were the one reuning. Instead, they’re about her beloved Westport.
“I drove all around, and found the town gorgeous,” she says. “Plantings and flowers all over (donated, I assume, by various nurseries.)
“There’s new facing on downtown stores. I found the salespeople absolutely gracious.”
Bev also says the women “looked like Stepford Wives. Tennies, racquets, long straight hair pulled back in a pony tail.”
But wait! Don’t hit the “Comment” button quite yet.
“Don’t I wish I could run around like that!” Bev says. “I’m not criticizing. I love my Westport!”
Many of her 60 fellow reunion-goers shared her good feelings. (They also wished the Westport Inn would cut them a break on price.)
In fact — I know I said wouldn’t report on the event, but these almost-80-somethings deserve some props — though they’d planned on this as their final reunion, everyone said “no way.” They’re already planning the next one.
“Are we still alive?” Bev asks.
And — with the bravado of every class ever to graduate from Staples (or anywhere) — Bev says, “Our combined ’5 and ’52 classes are a legend in our own time. I can’t think of any older class that has followed through like us. Here we go again planning for more!”