Members of the graduating class of 1974 high school in Moore, Okla., had taken their seats on the football field under dark skies.
The class president welcomed the crowd. The principal then, looking at the clouds, declared all the students graduates and told those present to take shelter immediately.
“The sky turned green, horrible clouds rolled in and the sirens started going off,” said Nuala Murray South, one of the graduates.
Sterling Crim, another graduate, grabbed his girlfriend, LeAnn Boyd, by the arm and dragged her under the bleachers against the brick wall of a concession stand.
The tornado never materialized, but did touch down west of Moore. But the day – and the rite – were ruined.
The graduates were soaked, their clothes stained by blue paper caps. They later received their high school diplomas without ceremony. But long after leaving college, starting careers and families, many held out hope that they would eventually cross the stage.
Ms. South, Mr. Crim and about 200 of their classmates or relatives of those who died held a re-commencement on Saturday.
The weather in Moore Saturday was warm and sunny with little chance of thunderstorms, but dangerous spring weather is a part of life in Moore, which is about 15 minutes south of Oklahoma City.
Oklahoma experiences, on average, more than 57 tornadoes each year, according to the National Weather Service.
“We’ve traditionally been one of the most tornado-prone areas of the country and really the world,” said Nolan Meister, a meteorologist at the National Weather Service office in Norman, Okla.
Mr. Meister said the science of predicting tornadoes “gets better every year,” but timing and strength remain difficult to predict.
A monster tornado tore through surrounding Cleveland County, where Moore is located, in May 2013, toppling 10-ton storage tanks, overturning cars and leveling schools. The storm ultimately killed 91 people, including 20 children.
Plaza Towers Elementary School in Moore was reduced to a pile of twisted metal and broken walls. Seven children were killed when a wall collapsed.
A National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration report said the devastating tornado, a Category 5 on the Enhanced Fujita scale, which measures tornado strength on a scale of 0 to 5, was among a cluster of several separate tornadoes that crossed the state that day.
Moore was also the scene of another massive tornado in May 1999, when winds reached 302 miles per hour. In 85 minutes, 36 people were killed and thousands of homes were destroyed.
The Moore Public School District is finding ways to make good for students who missed their commencement, hosting a delayed commencement ceremony for students whose commencement was canceled due to the coronavirus pandemic and remembering the seven victims of the 2013 tornado at a 2022 commencement ceremony. when they would have graduated.
The desire for a commencement ceremony had become a running theme at graduation gatherings for Moore High School’s class of 1974. Former classmates discussed the idea on social media, with someone suggesting a mock ceremony at a Holiday Inn. others found the idea hokey.
Finally, last year, a former student, Mike Wilson, who works as a sports announcer at Moore High School, approached the school administration with the idea of starting with the class’s 50th reunion.
“As you get older, you just look back and think you missed something,” Mr. Wilson said, adding that the administration was quick to provide a full ceremony in the high school auditorium, with a procession to music. of Edward Elgar’s ‘Pomp and Circumstance’ march and walking across the stage for their degrees.
“We wouldn’t say no to them,” said the principal, Rachel Stark, who graduated from the school in 1988. “We wanted to give them a chance to walk.”
Class president Bob Baker and salutatorian Phyllis Marical Clark even gave the speeches they had written in 1974, adding a few modern remarks.
For Mr Krim, the ceremony on Saturday was particularly poignant.
After the failed commencement exercise in 1974, he and Ms. Boyd moved to San Antonio, Texas for college. They settled there, got married and started a family.
It became a running joke among the couple’s grandchildren that the two never graduated.
His wife found out about eight years ago that she had colon cancer. Saturday’s graduation marked three years since her death.
“She always wanted to see a graduation and she was always a cheerleader for it,” Mr. Krim said.
“Am I bringing anyone?” he added. “I’m bringing her.”
