Goodbye, my friend....

Goodbye, My Friend

I sit here mourning the loss of a friend. I met Johnny in 1965 and spent countless hours playing, riding bikes, guitar lessons – you name it and we were doing it together. Johnny had a fort in his backyard under a huge tree – this was a REAL FORT like the one in F-Troop and the tree had a rope ladder hanging from the lowest limb into the fort.

There was a crabapple tree a few blocks away – we would fill a couple buckets, ride back to the fort, climb into the tree and throw the apples at imaginary enemies trying to overtake the fort. It was a great “climbing” tree; we could climb high enough to see the racetrack a mile away and even beyond that if we went a little higher!

We took turns being Zorro in sword fights or talked about the latest Batman episode. When we were 10, our mothers conspired to get us to take guitar lesssons – promising us we might one day be on the radio. He ultimately went with electric guitar while I took the classical route. I remember his electric guitar well and I remember the day he bought it. Even though I decided to study classical guitar I always wanted to have his guitar - I wonder what ever happened to that guitar.... (SPOILER ALERT! We never performed on-air….) Jimmy lived around the corner from Johnny – the corners of their backyards almost touched – and it wasn’t long before Jimmy joined us. Jimmy was with us for many things but most memories of those times were of just we two.

One of our favorite bad weather activities was to take out my Viewmaster projector and have slideshows in my darkened hallway. We would take turns narrating with whatever popped into our heads. We were quite creative for a couple kids who had never been anywhere.

Shortly after I turned 12 (Johnny is about 2 months younger than I), Lenny moved to the neighborhood and immediately joined “The Gang” but, looking back, the dynamic changed; the four of us did a lot together but when it broke down to two (2), it was now Lenny that I partnered with. We became the inseparable duo that Johnny and I once were. The four of us packed a lot of adventure into the relatively short time together. We were “thick as thieves” and I thought we would be a force to be reckoned with forever. It turns out that “forever” was not as long as I thought….

Johnny’s father was a Little League coach even before we were old enough to play. His team was the LIONS and every kid in the neighborhood was guaranteed a spot on the team. He was a good man and one of the best coaches I ever had the privilege to play for. He died in August 2013 – I was sad but it was good to see John, his mother, brother and sister. This was the last time I saw John and, despite giving him my contact information, I never heard from him after that.

He's Alive!

I started writing this (longhand) during the, nearly, 3-day period that we thought Johnny was dead. I learned on Saturday afternoon that he was, indeed, still alive. An incredible wave of relief washed over me and I could not wait to let Lenny & Jimmy know. I then started to tear this story out of my notebook and throw it away but stopped. I realized it is still pertinent: I am still mourning the loss of a friend. It isn’t a physical loss – I could go to his home, ring the bell and say “Hi!” – but an emotional loss. I don’t ring his bell because all indications seem to point to his not wanting me to. The signs have been there for years but, til now, I refused to see them.

Lenny and I have done a lot of chatting lately – especially this past week – and I learned a few things that were disturbing to me. I say this, not about things I learned about others, but things I learned about myself. Self-discovery can be quite liberating but it can also lead to even more questions.

When I was trying to learn what happened my wife asked if I could think of any friends who may have kept in touch with Johnny – I couldn’t think of a single person. The more I thought about it the more I realized that I don’t know very much about his life after the age of 16 or 17. It is as if we became acquaintances – strangers even – and just exchanged pleasantries on the rare occasions that our paths crossed. How does this happen? Was I so wrapped up in my own life that I shut him out? Why has it taken 30 or 40 years to learn things that others accept as “common knowledge?” I don’t think I can ever have the answers but I don’t think the questions will go away either.

We (Lenny, Jimmy and I) spent the better part of 2 ½ days trying to confirm what we had been told of John’s death and, finally, on Saturday I found a phone number for his office. I waited for their office hours were almost over to call – hoping to speak with John but knowing I would get an answer either way. John wasn’t there but the woman on the phone assured me he was alive – at least no one in the office had knowledge to the contrary. She said she would get in touch with him and, worst case; she would call me later in the day but that I would have an answer that afternoon. An hour later, I had my answer. The woman called to say she spoke with John, telling him of our conversation. He was on the road somewhere but they had a good laugh and she told him to make sure to call me. I thanked her and anxiously awaited his call. I know that most rumors are based on fact – I wanted to know if he was okay but really just wanted to hear his voice. As I write this, I have been waiting a whole week.... I have come to the realization that he will not be calling at all….

Epilogue

That is what got me thinking about the course of our friendship and where is went off course. The question now becomes – what do I do going forward? I can’t stop caring but do I stop reaching out? Do I try again to get in touch and then stop? The answer is clear, even if I don’t want to acknowledge it; I have to respect his unspoken wishes and let him live his life. Not every question has a simple answer; some may not have an answer at all while still others lead to more questions. The sooner we can recognize that, there better off we will be.

You may have read my earlier post about “Stand By Me” (Stephen King's Stand By Me - Every Boy's Story) – I mention my “partners in crime” and how the movie makes me think of us. There are a number of lines that strike right at the heart of things – one that I thought of when writing this is spoken by Gordy at the end of the movie, referring to Chris – “Although I hadn't seen him in more than ten years, I know I'll miss him forever.” At the end of the movies comes one of the most insightful of any in the movie and I will close with it:

“I never had any friends later on like the ones I had when I was twelve. Jesus, does anyone?”