ONE-ONE-ONE-ONE!

Whether it’s morning, the middle of the night, or the middle of the day, what’s the first thing you want to know when you wake up?

If you’re like me, your eyes seek the nearest clock. What time is it? needs to be established before the next thought can be thunk. If I don’t know the time, how do I know whether to roll over and go back to sleep, get up and go to the bathroom, or get up and stay up?

Over the years, I’ve come to associate certain numbers on the digital clock with other things. If I wake up and notice the clock says 2:22, for example, I think of the old TV show, Room 222.

Two minutes later, at 2:24, I’m most likely to think of my birthday—February 24.

If my glance at the clock reveals that it’s 3:16, the most well-known Bible verse comes to mind. You’ve got it, John 3:16. “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.”

10:01 makes me think of our wedding anniversary, October 1, which is only two days away (46 years if you’re wondering. Yes, we were babies.)

But the number that consistently evokes memories is one you may still be awake for most nights. It’s 11:11, and every time I see it, day or night, I’m taken back to high school. I attended a Christian residential high school in South Dakota. In the seventies, enrollment was up enough that dorms were filled to capacity and we bunked three to a room, at least in the girls’ dorm.

Rules were strict. By 9:30, everyone had to be in their room. Lights-out was at ten. Shortly thereafter, our dorm counselor would lightly tap on the door and poke her head in to say goodnight and make sure we were tucked in. Thankfully, she didn’t check to see who may have dived under the covers fully clothed. Of course, no one could force us to sleep, but if the conversation or giggling grew too loud after ten o’clock, we could expect a second visit with demerits doled out.

While I might have happily drifted off to sleep at ten, my two roommates, Benita and Coretta, were night owls by comparison. It was probably me who initiated the idea that 11:11 should be our absolute cut-off time for whispered conversation. I remember keeping my eyes focused on those numbers that physically flipped over with a soft clunk, awaiting the magic time so I could announce, “It’s ONE-ONE-ONE-ONE!” (In fairness, there were probably times when I was the talker and one of my roommates brought the clock to our attention.)

It was actually a pretty good rule, given we rose by 6:00 in order to make it to breakfast between 7:00 and 7:20 … where no one forced us to eat, but we had to make an appearance all the same. Plus, there’d be boys present, so few of us were willing to look like we’d just dragged ourselves out of bed. And once you’re in the dining hall anyway… might as well eat.

One is not only the loneliest number, but it’s the only number that ever repeats itself four times like that on a clock. Unless, I suppose, you go by military time. A shuteye time of 22:22 hours might have suited me better, had I thought to argue for it.

Nearly fifty years later, I still think about Benita and Coretta when the clock reads 11:11. I hear the “announcement” in my head. I smile. I wonder if they think of me. Hopefully, I can ask them in person at our high school reunion next month.

Blast to the Past

Hubby and I are preparing to attend our high school reunion seven hundred kilometers away.

Our high school experience was unlike most. We attended Sunshine Bible Academy, a private Christian boarding school in the middle of South Dakota. How a fourteen-year-old Manitoba girl landed so far from home is a long story. Suffice it to say I was there of my own free will and my parents’ good graces.

Back in the 1970’s, attending any Christian school usually meant living in a dorm. When you not only attend classes with people but live together, you bond more than you do in a typical high school experience. You become family. During my time, enrollment was higher than space allowed, so we frequently had three girls to a room. It felt like a college experience, except we were much younger. We learned a lot about sharing space and getting along.

Lights out was at ten, but my roommates and I had our own rule. When our digital clock said 11:11, we had to stop talking and go to sleep. Whichever of us noticed first (usually me, the non-night owl), would call out, “It’s ONE-ONE-ONE-ONE!” and that was our cue to shut up. To this day, if I happen to look at the clock when it says 11:11, it makes me grin. Most nights, I’m fast asleep by then.

Sharing a common faith also made our high school years unique. We had chapel every day and Bible classes along with our regular curriculum. Classes opened in prayer. I was never much for sports, but I recall our girls’ basketball team being known in the district for the team that sang in the showers after a game—in beautiful harmonies, even when they’d lost. We tended to walk away from music competitions with most of the awards.

I remember spending spring breaks on traveling choir tours—two kids to a suitcase. One year a spring blizzard cut our tour short, leaving us stranded in the same town with strangers who had only intended to billet us one night and ended up keeping us for three. I could only see things from my own disappointed view. I wish I could go back and be a more gracious, helpful guest. 

So many memories at this place!

Graduation day felt heart-wrenching because following the ceremony, we’d all return to our home towns spread across the continent. We had little reason to think we’d see each other much, if at all. The internet didn’t exist. Some of us stayed in touch for a year or two, then it dwindled to Christmas letters and cards until an address change caused a letter to bounce back unopened and you thought they were lost for good.

Then, along came Facebook.

In the last decade, I have reconnected with more high school friends than I did throughout the previous three. Because I’ve seen their recent pictures, I might even recognize them! I have a better handle on their lives, their families, and their work than I did in the eighties and nineties when most of us were raising our families. Now we are grandparents!

With forty years of life experience behind us, I know we’ll have far more to share than one weekend can possibly provide. I wonder if we’ll be able to stay awake later than one-one-one-one?