Stratton House Inn, in southeastern Ohio, is the ideal place to center a moderate-sized school or class reunion.

This spacious home, with modern kitchen, many bedrooms, four full baths, and numerous additional rooms, is located on 11 acres. The house is designed and furnished to accommodate groups that want to spread out, congregate in numerous small gatherings to reminisce, but who want a centralized retreat for group meetings and meals, and/or to relax after a busy day exploring community resources.

Stratton House Inn will accommodate about 25 persons for group meetings and meals. It will comfortably sleep 16 adults.

Stratton House Inn is across Stratton Lane from a large park, which both children and adults will love to explore and use.

Furthermore, Stratton House Inn is at the center of extensive recreational and historic resources -- such as championship golf courses, large lakes, the Ohio River, underground railroad museums, and much more.

And for those who just want to get away from it all, Stratton House Inn is a great place to watch birds and butterflies -- and deer and wild turkeys, gaze at the wondrous night sky, and share special moments with family members and old friends.

You will have great, lasting memories of that "very special" reunion you held at Stratton House Inn.

Have You Ever Been Guilty....

Have you ever been guilty of looking at others your own age and thinking, "Surely I cannot look that old?" Well, I was sitting in the waiting room for my first appointment with a new dentist. I noticed his DDS diploma, which bore his full name.

Suddenly, I remembered that a tall, handsome, dark-haired boy with the same name had been in my high school class some 40-odd years ago. Could he be the same guy that I had a secret crush on, way back then?

Upon seeing him, however, I quickly discarded any such thought. This balding, gray-haired man with the deeply lined face was way, way too old to have been my classmate...or could he?

After he examined my teeth, I asked him if he had attended Morgan Park High School.

"Yes. Yes. I did...I'm a Morgan Mustang," he gleamed with pride.

"When did you graduate?" I asked.

He answered, "In 1959. Why do you ask?"

"You were in my class!" I exclaimed.

He looked at me closely...and then that ugly, old, wrinkled jerk asked, "What did you teach?"