Time travel

I found the most unbelievable, amazing thing online at around 1:00 this morning. A photograph. Of virtually the whole of my senior school year group, taken sometime in 1974. Very early in the school year, I suspect, because many of the guys look distinctly younger than the 14 they must have been to be in that year group (4th Year, as we called it, Year 10 in today's parlance) at that time. I say 'they' advisedly, because one of the few absentees from the picture is me. I have no idea why I wasn't there, and I have no recollection that any such picture was taken, or even of any proposal for one. Our school, pretty much, didn't do official photos, apart from occasional sports team pictures. I don't remember every one of them, but, obviously, I do recall the vast majority, given that I went through seven school years with many of them (and even more with a few, because a number of them had come from the same primary school as me), a good number of friends, either then, or at other phases of my school career, one or two outright enemies. And memories. Mark, my best friend for the whole time at the school, but who I subsequently completely lost touch with. Another Mark, the other member of our 'gang of three', who I'd known literally all my life - we were born in the same hospital ward, four days apart, our families becoming friends and keeping in touch as a result, even though he went to a different primary school - who was later killed in a car crash while working in South Africa. Paul, who I've written about somewhere before, a guy I'd just started to get friendly with when he collapsed and died in a PE lesson just a few months later. Yet another Mark, who I became very good friends with for that school year and the one after, before we drifted apart again, and, looking at the picture once more, as I have this morning, one of the few I'd be attracted to if I met him as a boy now, although there was no conscious sexual attraction on my part back then - partly because I was as deeply closeted as it was possible to be, but mostly because my tastes were towards boys a year or two younger, the 11/12/13 group I'm still entranced by now having been my preference even then. Joey, who'd been one of my best friends at primary school, and who I stayed friendly with, but not close to, through senior school - we simply moved in different circles, both socially and academically. Anthony, who took me on my first visit (of innumerably many since!) to drink in a pub, one run by his aunt, if I remember correctly, a year or so later. And, in the front row, the headmaster and the fourth year form masters, including 'the Major', our form teacher, ex-USAF, a stereotypically loud American (including the shirt he was wearing in the picture, as against the conservative jackets and ties of his colleagues!), notorious for never using one word if he could use a hundred! 41 years ago in a town by the sea. It took me a long time to get to sleep last night.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B