Ed Madsen, a proud graduate of LFHS and a member of the Class of ‘55, recently wrote a toast to the Class of 2025—70 years later. Behind his words was a lifetime of stories, lessons, and experiences that spanned for decades. 

When I first read his Toast to the LFHS Class of ’25, I was impressed by how thoughtful it was— how someone, 70 years after graduating, would take the time to write to the Class of ‘25. As a senior, the unknown and uncertainty that lies ahead is scary. But hearing from someone who once stood where I stand now, and who eventually found his way, is comforting.  

At first glance, the Class of ‘55 and the Class of ‘25 might seem like polar opposites. While our class came of age during a global pandemic, political polarization, and the rise of artificial intelligence, the Class of ‘55 class experienced the Cold War, the early days of rock ‘n’ roll, and the Civil Rights Movement taking root.

But if you ask Madsen, the two classes have more in common than you might think.

“Yes—we really did graduate from LFHS before stereo music became available!” Madsen said.

On March 26, Madsen sent an email to the general communications general email box and requested his message be shared with the Class of ‘25. He was inspired to write the letter after looking at a photo that captured one of his favorite high school memories—him and the boys in his class after serving at the annual Mother-Daughter Banquet.

Madsen wrote that the boys in the photo are “radiating hope and confidence about the future, they seem to be wishing the same for you.”

After reading the letter, I knew I had to get in touch with him to learn more about his life. 

We spoke on the phone for hours. He told me about his past, sent old pictures, shared some information from a book about his parents’ immigration experience, and even sent a 30-year-old essay he submitted to the Lake Forester after their 40th reunion. He was incredibly open and proud about his life and the way he grew up.

Now in his 80s, Madsen is full of wisdom and advice— a reminder that while times are quickly changing, the heart of LFHS still beats with the same love and sense of purpose.

Ordinary to Extraordinary 

“Raising their glasses to the LFHS Class of ‘25 are the boys from the Class of ‘55,” Madsen said in his letter. “Including the girls, our class numbered only 100. Most of us lived out ordinary lives. But some proved exceptional.”

Throughout his letter, Madsen illustrates a class filled with ambition, camaraderie, and dreams for the future. For many, those dreams became a reality.

Jon Shafer, an all-star athlete, joined the very first class at the Air Force Academy. Sam Ward became a Harvard-trained doctor and later became a Professor of Pathology at Penn State’s School of Medicine. Laurie Ullman taught high school physics after earning his masters at Harvard. 

Others found success through service. Madsen remembered a classmate named Art—he  didn’t remember his last name—who earned a battlefield commission in the U.S. Marines during the Vietnam War. Chris Thompson became a Navy pilot who once saved a returning astronaut from the Pacific Ocean. 

Some stayed close to their home roots in Lake Forest. Bryon Prais helped improve the town’s beaches and harbors as Director of Building and Zoning.

And then there was Jim Macke—the class’s musical star— who brought his deep baritone voice to radio stations and choral stages across Oregon. 

While it might sound like something out of a movie, four couples from the Class of ‘55 who were high school sweethearts eventually got married and remain together to this day. The Homecoming King and Queen, Ted and Sue, were one of them.

“We Do Good Work”

The Class of ‘55 set out to do good work. In fact, “We Do Good Work” was their official class motto.

“None of our class was numbered among the rich,” Madsen said. “Most of us boys had caddied or shagged tennis balls for them.” 

Madsen’s father was a carpenter, and his mother was a waitress and cook. He says many of his classmates were children of immigrants, and their parents were farmers, janitors, policemen, or railroad workers. 

Despite their humble beginnings, the Class of ‘55 never lacked determination or spirit, according to Madsen.

The motto stuck with them until their 50th reunion, when the “irrepressible class comedian,” Whitey Olson, changed it to: “We’re Done Workin!”

The American Miracle

Madsen describes his high school years as “intimidating, challenging, and fun—with rewarding friendships” in that exact order.

“We were the children of the working class,” Madsen said. “Born in the worst of times, when the word was staggering out of the Great Depression into the cauldron of war.”

By 1955, Dwight D. Eisenhower became president, and for the first time in years, there were no U.S. combat deaths anywhere in the world. He remembers the unity and optimism during this time.

It marked the start of what Madsen calls “the American miracle called high school.” It was a place where students of any background “melded into a cohort of 100+ preparing to fly from our monaural nest into the uncharted heavens of the stereophonic space age, women’s liberation, and the computer.”

Back then, education was built around what Madsen called the “Three A’s: Academics, Athletics, and the Arts.” Students could also learn practical skills, such as how to sew, fix a washing machine, or cook a meal. 

Being well-rounded was very encouraged. Athletes could sing in the choir or act in school plays. Madsen himself had a part in Our Town and remembers singing “Hallelujah” in the school chorus.

A School Like No Other

Today, LFHS has 1,336 students, with roughly 360 per class. Back in 1955, there were only 100 students in the Class of ‘55 with only one campus.

“I returned for our 40th reunion,” Madsen said. “Some of us trekked through the school halls, silenced by summer but loud with memories. Craggy faces crowned with thinning gray hair pressed against dusty display cases, peering for the gleam of past victories among tarnished trophies.”

At that reunion, no one could quite remember the official school song, but they belted out the “forbidden” version with just as much enthusiasm. 

Now, LFHS has three times the students and five times the space, but Madsen believes the heartbeat remains the same: a community where ordinary people can begin their journey into the world. 

A Legacy

Madsen and the Class of ‘55’s message to the Class of ‘25 is an inspiring message to the next generation. In his note, he encouraged students to carry that hope with them into an uncertain future.

“It is true what the Dalai Lama said: ‘Life is difficult!’ You will need hope to pull you through your hard times,” Madsen said.

As a man of deep faith, Madsen lives with God close to his side.

“Do justly, love kindness, and walk humbly with your God.” (Micah 6:8) Madsen said. “Learn to do something useful with your hands…When your God-given talents, together with interests you develop and skills you acquire, meet with real need in the world—that will be your life’s calling.”

Tangible History

For many students, history can feel distant and it can be hard to grasp when it is filled with unfamiliar names and dates from many years ago. But this story is our history. 

It’s the same halls we walk through every day, the songs we sing, and traditions we continue to honor.

People like Ed Madsen—who, 70 years later, still carries with him his chorus notes, the pride of the first varsity win, and the excitement and nerves of prom night—remind us that the past is closer than we may think. 

Madsen’s willingness to share so much with me made me realize just how meaningful this connection across generations truly is. His stories about his parents and teachers, first jobs, and deep belief in faith, helped me see how much we actually have in common. 

Madsen’s final words to the Class of ‘25 are a call to celebrate and honor this moment and carry the spirit of LFHS with you into your time ahead. 

“As you plunge into the unknowable future, wishing you the very best—Here’s to You!” Madsen said.