Spring is graduation season. It kicks off in May with prom and you, friends of the kids'

parents, start receiving graduation party invites. Save the date! Come to my kids' graduation

party! And for the record, I love graduation parties, good food, happy times, lots of positive

energy. In June, graduating seniors donned their cap and gown, they walked to receive their

diploma. After commencement, the parties start, outdoor affairs with tents and games and

barbecues, or summer food catered and served from a hotel pan. Burgers, pulled pork or

a pasta bar, salad and coleslaw and gallons of lemonade and iced tea. Ice laden buckets

filled with soft drinks and cold beer. See some friends, eat some food, maybe play a game

of cornhole or shoot some hoops after you've wished the graduate well. We had our first

grad party of the season just two weeks ago. My friend's daughter, looking pretty and hopeful

and wholesome in a summer dress, dispensing hugs and cheerfully greeting visitors with,

thank you for coming to my party! She's headed off to Pennsylvania to attend college

come August, and she's nervous and excited all at once. Seeing her so happy, so cheerful,

so full of life and hope for the future, I was reminded of another young graduate, someone

who completed his studies at Algonnack High School in the late spring of 1983, a young

man named Sean Raymond. He was smart, handsome, kind and brimming with potential. What he

didn't know is that once he accepted his diploma, he had only weeks left to live. So come

with me to a hot July day in 1983, when 19-year-old Sean Raymond headed out for a night in the

city with friends and disappeared forever. Sean Raymond was that guy, and you probably

remember someone a lot like him from your days in high school. The one guy who seemed

to have it all, a good student, an athlete, nice looking, good natured, friendly to nearly

everyone. Sean was a varsity athlete competing in track and field, and when the senior class

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