June 1948
- charliebunton
- Jul 7, 2025
- 3 min read
Updated: Jul 8, 2025
The heavy velvet curtains of the Rogers City High School auditorium, with their deep burgundy hue, seemed to hold their breath, as if acutely aware of the significance and gravity of the moment unfolding within their folds. Behind those rich drapes, 103 young hearts beat fervently against starched white shirts and neatly pressed graduation gowns, each pulse resonating with the pride and hopes of the entire town. The scent of fresh lilacs wafted through the open windows, their sweet fragrance mingling with the nervous excitement that crackled in the air like summer lightning, a fitting metaphor for the energy and anticipation that filled the room.
For months, these soon-to-be graduates had dreamed of this night—when they would cross the simple wooden stage, a threshold marking the transition from the familiar embrace of childhood to the vast, uncharted territory of adulthood. As they prepared to step into a world brimming with possibilities, their futures stretched out before them like the endless blue expanse of Lake Huron, shimmering just beyond the school's doors. Tonight, they would no longer be the kids who trudged through Rogers City's snowy streets, weighed down by heavy book bags filled with textbooks and even heavier dreams; tonight, they would proudly become the Class of 1948, a cohort ready to leave their mark.
Among these graduates were Class President Richard Wing, whose leadership had inspired many; Valedictorian Jeanne Breach, whose eloquence and intellect set her apart; and Salutatorian Edna Smolinski, whose determination and hard work had earned her a place among the top achievers. The commencement address was delivered by Rupert Cortright, chairman of the speech department at Wayne State University, whose words were anticipated to resonate deeply with the young audience, imparting wisdom and encouragement as they prepared to embark on their next adventures.
As the summer sun cast long shadows over the familiar streets of Rogers City, three generations of men gathered on front porches and around backyard tables to celebrate Father’s Day, their voices carrying the easy laughter of those who had weathered both the Great Depression and a world war together. Grandfathers, their hands weathered and calloused from a lifetime of labor, spoke in measured tones about the old country and the early days of the limestone quarry that had provided for many families in the area. Their stories were rich with history, filled with nostalgia and lessons learned from hardship.
Meanwhile, fathers—many still young men who had returned from overseas, their Bronze Stars tucked away in dresser drawers as silent reminders of their bravery—bounced toddlers on their knees, sharing their dreams and hopes for the future they were building. The air was thick with the scent of Lake Huron, mingling with the smoke from grilling hot dogs and bratwurst, a culinary tradition that brought families together in celebration. Laughter and chatter filled the atmosphere, punctuated by the distant whistle of a freighter heading toward Detroit, a reminder of the bustling life that lay beyond the shores of their small town.
In that moment, surrounded by the men who had shaped their lives and the children who would carry their stories forward, Rogers City felt like the center of the world—a place where generations intertwined, where the past met the present, and where dreams for the future were nurtured. The bonds of family and community were strong, creating a tapestry of shared experiences that would forever connect them.
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