Their pact reaches 34th year

Once a year, 17 men from all around the country — Atlanta, San Francisco, New York and Minnesota, among other places — come together in Corona del Mar and share a toast.

“Each year, we’ll toast the friendship we have shared...until the last man,” their toast goes. “And he shall toast alone.”

They call themselves the Last Man Society, a group of friends who, 34 years ago, when most of them were seniors at Corona del Mar High School, made a pact to be friends forever.

“If you had asked me five years into it if we’d still be doing it, I would’ve said maybe some of us,” said Tom Freeman, a member of the Last Man Society and organizing force behind the group. “But now, there’s no doubt we’ll do this until the last man.”

Indeed, all 17 men who made the pact, most united through the high school’s football team but others as siblings in the group or friends from other schools, convene every year and catch up at a local bar the night before Thanksgiving. The next morning, it’s on to Lincoln Elementary School for the annual Turkey Bowl football game.

“It’s to celebrate our friendship. You get here in one way or another every year,” said Greg Wilfahrt, a member of the group from Servite High School. “Thank God we’re all still above the grass.”

When someone eventually passes, the group has a specific way of honoring him too, members said.

Since the society’s inception in 1976, the men have gathered personal remembrances — pictures, cards and more — and stored them all in a safe deposit box.

The group’s parents also bought a bottle of champagne that’s also stored and can only be opened by the last surviving member.

The men have all written letters to the group, a sort of final goodbye, that they update every now and then and re-seal in the deposit box, Wilfahrt said. When that member passes, the group reads it and celebrates his life.

“I wouldn’t want to be the guy who cracks that bottle of champaign at the end,” said Jeri Freeman, Tom’s wife.

She and the other wives said they admire the dedication their husbands have shown to each other. Some admitted with a chuckle Thursday morning, though, that they didn’t fully appreciate the significance.

“I didn’t know how important it was,” said Liz Buelow, who’s husband, Chuck, nicknamed “Upchuck,” is a part of the society of 17. “It seemed casual at first. He’d say ‘Oh, I’m going to play football Thanksgiving morning.’”

It wasn’t until vacation plans started working around Thanksgiving day, that everyone understood the strength of the group’s bond, family members said.

“It’s nice because I don’t see a lot of them except this once a year,” Jeri Freeman said. “I think it’s cool. Most people don’t have anything that ties them together. You don’t have many constants these days.”