In 1966, we were young, wild and unstoppable. But most importantly, we were friends. Didn't matter if you got thrown in the drunk tank, we pooled together and posted bail.  If you had an out-of-control party when your parents were gone for a weekend, we showed up the next morning,  cleaning up the beer cans and vomit, gluing together broken furniture, and driving any stragglers home. Mom and Dad had no clue their home was host to such an epic event.

Back in high school, we hung out at a small shopping center in a nice part of town. One of the center's merchants said we were just  "all bums".  Taking that as a compliment, the name stuck. 

Call it a social club, a fraternity or a band of misfits, as years past, the bums have remained loyal and true friends who like to share a good time.

Those in the group, Choke, Welm. Hugs, Ding, Hawk, Wizzer, to name a few, have become lawyers, doctors, ministers, business leaders, in other words, model citizens. But, underneath that successful exterior is a young, funny, group still proud to call themselves "the all center bums."