It is easy to see why the high school reunion is so ripe for a screenplay. There are sweet moments. There are awkward moments. And occasionally romantic moments.

Ive been to two of my Pendleton High School class reunions. At the first I attended, two of my classmates disappeared in the middle of the evening, returned at the end and some months later were married.

Because Ive been at The Daily Astorian longer than I lived in Pendleton, I sometimes think I know a fair bit about Astoria High School. Both towns in the 50s and 60s were places where kids spent kindergarten through 12th grade together. Howard Clarke has told me that in postwar Astoria, there were no new kids in school. Pendleton was a more remote place, and I suppose we were closer for that reason.

There were more than 200 in my graduating class. It was the towns largest ever. Since we were the start of the baby boom, each succeeding class became the largest ever.

On the whole, our alumni group looked quite well. There was that moment call it the reunion stare when youre bringing the face in front of you into focus in real time and in your memory.

During the shooting of our reunion photo, I stood next to the guy who threw me a beautiful pitch that I turned into a home run when I was 11. I thanked him.

My most heartening reunion was with a woman who has recently gone through a serious bout with cancer. Seeing Julie look so good made my evening. She is a talented musician, attended Julliard, teaches and performs in California and Oregon.

Some things never change. Over dinner, John Carter and I jousted. I had a vivid memory of arguing with John about the World Series when we were probably 11 or 12, walking home from school. Weve been disagreeing ever since.

When Vietnam vets were asked to identify themselves, hands shot up throughout the room.

The evenings most poignant moment came from a man who said that few of us would remember him. He arrived in town as a foster child in the eighth grade. He had been put on a Greyhound bus to Pendleton, where he would find his new family. He read a poem he had written, inspired by the manner of T.S. Eliot. It was quite affecting.

Pendleton is where Astoria was about 20 years ago. It is in the takeoff section of what will become a rebirth. Walking Main Street, I passed a custom saddlery and a bootmaker.

Hamleys the Western wear store, saddlery and steak house has been the engine of the comeback. Now there are companion restorations on Main Street.

On Saturday morning, Andrew Picken showed a few of us the progress his committee has made in restoring the Rivoli Theater. Like Astorias Liberty Theater, the Rivoli is of the 1920s vaudeville-movie house era. When complete, the Rvioli restoration will give Pendleton a jolt of new activity.

Spokane was our jumping off point to Canada. On a sunny Monday morning, we walked to Spokane Falls, a set of two falls that has generated electricity for more than a century. Fed by spring runoff, the Spokane River was a torrent, all foam and spray glinting in the morning light.

S.A.F.

FRIDAY: Seeking the headwaters of the Columbia River.