To our surprise and delight, despite COVID-19, the 139th annual Cloud Family Reunion took place much as usual in the East Goshen Park a few Saturdays ago. Almost 40 people attended, from toddlers through a fellow who hasn't missed a reunion since WWII. This year family members kept their distance while socializing, and we all brought our own lunches instead of eating a shared meal. (Judging from the number of Wawa subs I saw, the convenience store enjoyed a very good day.)
We sat at a picnic table with a retired fellow from Fairfax County, Virginia, who reminisced about going to Jimmy John's for hot dogs as a youth. He said he's reached the age where he simply doesn't care what people think about him. I suspect that's something of an exaggeration, as he was very personable, but he told funny stories about how he dislikes texting as a form of communication, much to the irritation of his impatient fellow condo-board members.
After lunch and before the business meeting, we tried our hand at the game of corn hole, which involves trying to toss a beanbag into a hole drilled in a wooden platform. We were useless. (A friend later pointed out that beer is a sine qua non for corn hole success.)
During the business meeting one woman wondered how the Spanish flu affected the turnout for the Cloud reunions in 1917 and 1918. I offered to do some research -- back then, the local newspaper would assign a reporter to reunions, who would dutifully crank out a multi-column story listing the attendees, what they ate, what they discussed, who was born, married, and died, and of course an account of the annual baseball game. I'm hoping I'll be able to search the Historical Society's records at some point this year. Microfiche here I come!
