Thursday evening was unlike any evening I’ve seen in a long time.

Four of the area’s major schools — Dallas County, Selma, Keith and Southside, all shared a night of tears, happiness and sighs of relief when they graduated on the same night.

And though pouring rain brought an abrupt ending to Selma’s graduation, which by the way is my Alma Mater, students’ spirits were not deterred.

As I found my parking spot behind what seemed like the end of a mile of cars on Highway 80, on my right, I saw the crowds of people gathered and the small section of green huddled near a fence, signaling I was in the right place.

The excited faces, the sound of a megaphone and proud, tardy parents and family scrambling to the field before the announcement of diplomas at Dallas County High’s graduation, was what I remember vividly about my own high school graduation.

The euphoria of standing in line before the ceremonial march, the knots in the stomach, the sweaty palms and the nauseating feeling of nervousness while awaiting your name to be called, usually plagues a senior’s mind.

But, once the superintendent or school principal calls your name and the diploma touches your palm, there’s no feeling like it.

Of the more than 200 classmates I came to know my sophomore year at Selma High, the night of May 31, 2003 was a night I’d documented in my mental calendar forever.

The many faces I’d shared a conversation or meal with at our cafeteria, would only be a memory.

No more having to follow a dress code. No more having to get up at the crack of dawn to eat a bowl of cereal and iron my clothes for the day.

No more getting in trouble by Coach Willie Maxey or staying up all ours of the night to do study for the Alabama High School Graduation Exam.

Sadly, the night of graduation was an end to only one chapter of our lives, but it was also the beginning of a more beautiful future.