Making Dad proud ... wherever he is.

Boston University's Class of 1970 is invited to take that final walk across the stage ... and about 10% of the Class shows up, some to finish up family business after waiting patiently for 40 years:

That spring was supposed to bring a flowery conclusion to their four years of academe. But President Richard M. Nixon had invaded Cambodia. National Guardsmen had gunned down students at Kent State, killing four and wounding nine. Young men still faced the draft. And this campus, like many across the country, was in turmoil, with strikes, sit-ins, building takeovers and fire-bombings.

The situation became so incendiary that, for safety’s sake, university officials called off final exams, canceled graduation and sent students packing.

This weekend, on what would have been the 40th anniversary of that ceremony, the university sought to make amends with a proper graduation.

But more than pomp and circumstance, the university wanted to give the students — now in their early 60s, many of them grandparents — a chance to heal the wounds, reflect on what their time here had meant and feel better about their alma matter.

“This is not an apology,” Robert A. Brown, the president of the university, said in an interview beforehand. “We did exactly the right thing by calling off exams. It’s an opportunity to reach out to this cadre of alums and say, ‘Come, be with us.’ ”

About 300 of the 3,000-member class showed up, many with their grown children in tow, not to mention unfinished business.

“That was a big deal,” Dr. Marcia Wells Avery, one of three black nursing students in the class of 1970, said of her canceled graduation. “It was worse for the parents and the grandparents, many of whom are dead now and were robbed of that opportunity to see their child march across that stage.”

“My father vowed that B.U. would never get a penny from him,” added Dr. Avery, who is now a nursing professor at Northwestern State University in Louisiana.

Still, Dr. Avery was enjoying the weekend. She decided to drop by the bookstore and “buy up all the B.U. paraphernalia” she could find. She said she would even consider making a future donation to the school.

And by the end of the ceremonies on Sunday, she was beaming. “It’s O.K.,” she said. “I feel complete.”

So many people affected in the culture wars, in ways little and life-changing too. It's sometimes the quiet dreams you hold closest.