In the great scheme of things, perhaps collegiate homecomings are hardly news events, directly affecting only the smattering of graduates who find their way back each fall. But for alumni trekking back to campus, re-visiting youthful haunts invites reclamation of sweetest memories. Homecomings are matters of the heart.

University presidents, cognizant that homecoming participants include large percentages of supporters who write the checks to keep things going, put on game faces. They speak in tones of fanfare, accentuating the positive, with onward/outward/upward themes.

Some squirm in their beds in wee hours, minds churning to come up with fresh new ways to heighten alumni involvement, interest and support — not necessarily in that order.

“Naming opportunities” are mentioned often. They come in all sizes; ie., for buildings, rooms, athletic facilities — you name it. During my presidential years, we introduced courtyard bricks, reminding former students that they could “see their names in granite before they’re under it.”

Dr. Lanny Hall, now president of Howard Payne University, couched his appeal in similar terms at the 2006 alumni dinner. His gentle appeal included no mention of phone blitzes, with “operators standing by.”

He referred, though, to “stonemasons standing by ... with an itch to etch.”

Terry Cosby, an inductee into the university’s athletic hall of fame, expressed amazement that he’d received an athletic scholarship 30 years ago.

A shot-putter of national renown, he joked about a disproportionate body — his own — that defied typical sizing.

“I wore hand-me-down shirts from my 6-5 brother and my 5-5 roommate’s britches,” he laughed.

Dr. H. B. Ramsour, another homecoming honoree, poignantly ended the alumni banquet in eloquent fashion. He cited names of persons who invested in his collegiate pilgrimage 75 years ago.

His remarks were brief — too brief. But this 95-year-old, keen of mind and aware that the hour grew late, stopped short.

Had he continued, he might well have mentioned the Greek proverb: A society grows great when old men plant trees whose shade they know they shall never sit in.

It is trees that loom larger on homecoming’s canvass. They are more noticeable now as life’s shadows lengthen. We pause now to notice not only the trees, but also the squirrels. They’ve been there for ages, offering many lessons for those taking time to watch.

Oh, we saw them during college days, but always at a glance; never before, I think, have they warranted concentrated gazes.

On the drive home, I found myself humming the alma mater. Little wonder. It had been voiced as capstones for each of a half-dozen homecoming activities.

I was grateful for those who have gone before, planting trees in whose shade I’ve sat.

Thoughts turned to another homecoming scheduled THIS weekend, for a school that used to be, and whose alumni will gather for a final time.

Daniel Baker College faithful have decided that this will be their final such event. It’s been 55 years since the former Brownwood institution’s final graduation.

Their numbers are dwindling, now under 300, and the youngest of them are beyond 75.

Many will be physically unable to attend, but for the several dozen who do, they’ll recount — likely even embellish — treasured college years.

These old-timers continue to provide inordinate support for students and programs on the campus they love and remember, though it is now part of Howard Payne.

This homecoming represents the final “official function” of Daniel Baker College folk; maybe they’ll overhear stories of their people — at the grocery store, post office, church or school.

May such stories make them smile, hum their alma mater and remain “on the look-out” for the endless parade of youngsters — kids looking for a shade. President Hall will be glad to help them find good spots to plant trees, and put them in touch with stonemasons itching to etch.

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Dr. Don Newbury is a speaker and author in the Metroplex. His column appears Tuesdays. He may be contacted via e-mail at newbury@speakerdoc.com.