I graduated from a small New England high school in 1968 and went on to a life that brought me to many places that, until Oklahoma, were all of my choosing. I wanted a house on a lake or near the ocean, a one time actual possibility, or in Japan as I had connections there, but reality had me opt for New Jersey, Northern California; New York, burb and city; Massachusetts, rural, urban, Cape Cod, and for a while next to a lake; Southern California, with the only non-choice being Oklahoma whose name I sang often in choruses and community shows but of which I knew nothing of except what I learned in the musical or had seen in the Glenn Ford film, Cimaron.

I arrived in Oklahoma unannounced and as a complete surprise even to myself as I had never had that state at any time on my radar. As far as the Musical, I may have sung songs from it as part of some chorus’s repertoire over the years. The only plot point that sticks with me is that “Poor Judd is dead.”

The same year I graduated from my school in New England, up there in the North East, so did Elizabeth Ann Herring in Oklahoma where she began a life that involved moving to places she chose.

During my time in Oklahoma City I taught most of it at Elizabeth Herring’s Alma Mater with no knowledge of that and having no reason for that to be known. Thousands of students had graduated from there. I was dealing with the ones there when I was.

I was politically active and an openly Gay teacher, so, for a variety of reasons over all those years I had to work with the open mindedness of the politicians in power at the time or their bigotry. I had to deal with mayors, school board presidents, heads of corporations, and various other members of the ruling class who had reached their pinnacles and, peaking at the local level, had to settle for that fiefdom.

At the same time I had arrived in Oklahoma, Elizabeth l arrived in my state to become the Leo Gottlieb Professor of Law at Harvard Law School. Two total strangers who did not know each other or of each other and whose lives had each oblivious of the other were in each other’s state.

As a result, during my years of political and Gay rights activism in Oklahoma City and because of its importance and having become quite the media item, I had to deal with the same people who had looked down on Elizabeth, their treatment possibly being the major reason she hightailed out of town, immediately leaving the state after graduating only to return for family visits. While she knew and dealt with someone as a high school student with aspirations and expectation, I was meeting and dealing with them in the area of Labor and Gay Rights thirty Years after graduation when they had reached their goals as mayor, corporate head of a business, school board president, and other leadership positions in state and local government.

In 2011 I returned to Massachusetts where Elizabeth still was, making it the first time we were physically in the same state at the same time although, in spite of the odd connection of Oklahoma, the city, the high school, and its prominent alumni, we each continued to be oblivious of the other.

I wanted to continue my political and Gay Rights activism and found there was to be a meeting at a neighbor’s house for those wanting to support an Elizabeth Warren for U.S. Senate. I was not familiar with Massachusetts politics although I did endure some ribbing by Oklahoma republicans when “Kennedy’s Seat” was won by a conservative Republican. if Oklahoma Republicans saw the irony in this, and as he was running again , this time for a six-year term not filling for his deceased predecessor’s remaining time in office. I had no choice but to learn about Scott Brown because all the friendly joking about the race for that seat and was familiar with his then opponent, I went to the meeting to see who wanted to take back that senate Seat.

The chair of the meeting gave some introductory remarks about the candidate and then handed out copies of a brief bio with it stating where the candidate was from, and among the information included was that she had been born in Oklahoma city and had graduate from North West Classen High school in 1968, NWC being the school at which I had taught before returning home.

She had been Elizabeth Herring in her school years and now I found that we knew the same people in different periods of time, and I could, if she so desired, let her know how they ended up.

I finally did get to, but very briefly and only a very abridged version.

I was able to tell her that they may have gotten to their local heights with the attendant fame, it has to really frost them that as they acted as if they were the pinnacle of what the city could produce while the waif became a nationally respected figure.

Perhaps when the commuter rail finally gets to New Bedford, I can head into the big city, drop in at her home, and fill in all the blanks.

She can supply the Pastel de nata, and I will bring the tea.

In her hectic life I am sure there was no time this connection crossed her mind even after I explained our North West Classen connection. A Silky connected to a Knight by the people in one’s youth and the adults in the other’s.

It’s that connection thing..

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