Precious Time is Slipping Away
I lost two friends this week. Two friends from back in the day at my old prep school in Maine back in the 1960’s.
I had not seen either one of them in over 40 years, but they were friends never the less. Guys that I figured would always be there. That I could call on at any time for a beer and some great conversations about our days a Bridgton Academy and how our lives went after that.
Well that time is gone, there won’t be another chance, and I’m feeling bad about it.
“Buzz” Stanley has been gone since late 2003, but I just got the news last week at the Alumni/Homecoming Weekend. Buzz was such an upbeat, spirit, always with a jibe or a jab, a quick joke to keep all our spirits up during those dark days of winter. It was my second year at Bridgton and he brought a whole new sense of energy and chatter to the campus. He was a consummate football player for sure and ended up playing for Wake Forest down in North Carolina.
Last time I saw him I had ridden my bike over to the King School (?) in Fairfield, CT where he was the Athletic Director with a cigar in his mouth and his feet up on his desk.
Maybe 20 years ago, I inquired of his whereabouts with our alumni office and was told that Buzz was not available? He had requested that no alumni come to see him.
I found that a bit troubling, and as the years went by I tried looking him by google or other classmates that had lived near him, with no success.
When I requested the class list from Sarah Gaines at the Alumni office while I was on campus last weekend, I specifically asked about Buzz, and she took the trouble to find his brief Obituary from 2003. This just about brought me to tears on an otherwise wonderful weekend on campus.
To me it was like it had just happened, there was a hole in my soul as I looked across the campus and realized how lucky I was to back there and with a son in attendance, no less. That I would never get that chance to sit down with Buzz, have a few beers and brag about our times and our kids.
I took that class list, ( I had asked Sarah to indicate who had passed on) home with me in hopes of getting no more surprises but many of the names had no address, phone numbers or email addresses next to them. I mean what the heck it was over 53 years ago, and that too began to sink in on me.
I made a few phone calls and sent out a couple of emails to guys that I knew had retired and had stayed put in their hometowns or close by over the years.
A few of them filled me in on Buzz and why he may have shied away from having visitors. He had been wheel chair bound and it must have broken his spirit.
The other guy we talked about and I was looking for was my old tri-captain (with me) of the soccer team and a guy who had spent two years at Bridgton, Harry Mutter.
It’s strange how some guys keep in touch over the years, or at least initially upon leaving Bridgton, and others just drop off the map entirely.
Harry had left a legacy of being one of the best softball players in the greater Providence, RI area for nearly 20 years after BA as near as I can figure. In talking with Dick Harlow in nearby Middletown, RI Harry then became somewhat of a recluse or was just hard to find and not replying to any inquiries from BA or his fellow Alumni.
As a truck driver, I had been making deliveries of plants, trees, shrubs, and perennials to garden centers in towns neighboring East Providence and often thought of Harry. In fact I was determined to grab a local phone book while in the area and give him a call, but I never did.
So when my gaze went down the class list to his name, I saw there was a phone number and address for Harry. I did not have any idea how recent it was, but I gave a call, to what was probably an old home phone number and left a message. The voice mail did not say “This is Harry, leave a message” but I left one just the same urging whoever, it was Bill from BA and give me a call.
Yesterday, while planning my delivery route on google maps, I realized I would be making a stop in Seekonk, Ma. Which was only 5 miles from the current address for Harry in Pawtucket, RI. I zoomed in on Satellite (Google Earth) to see what Harry’s house looked like and whether I could get my 18 wheeler down his street without tearing down any trees.
The roads looked good, and I was excited to find out if Harry still lived there and if so, see his smiling face once again.
I was pretty nervous the next day after my second stop, to be driving down residential streets towards Harry’s house. As I swung wide to make the left turn on his street, the memories of Harry’s basketball and soccer exploits came rushing at me and I had to slow way down to focus which house it was and where I might park this rig. Neighbors were peering out their windows as I very slowly found some curb space right opposite the address I was looking for.
It was a cute house with attached garage in great condition with a small but manicured front lawn. There was a small beware of dog sign and the dog (not a big one) was barking as I approached and rang the front door bell.
No answer, so I knocked on the door and then began to walk around to the side door when a neighbor began walking towards me on the sidewalk while looking alternately at my truck and then at me.
I immediately asked, “Does Harry Mutter live here?”
“Yes he did, but he passed away about six months ago.” My heart sank, as I shook hands with the man, who could tell I was hurting from the news. We chatted for a bit, Harry had lived there for 5 or 6 years, was a “real nice guy” who seemed to be busy with meetings in East Providence, and he had a son who is an EMT in Boston.
Still reeling from realization that Harry was gone, after he had been so alive in my thoughts just a few minutes before, I turned to walk towards my truck. I was truly stunned to think that Harry was gone and I still was able to be driving a tractor trailer. How does one justify this?
Driving slowly out of Harry’s neighborhood, was very sad, as I realized once again how short life is, and had I found a phone book in early Spring, I might have seen Harry one more time. He and Buzz are gone and they are not coming back, except in the memories of our youth and the good times that we had.
Except for times like this, it is hard for me to realize how blessed I am to be able to drive a tractor trailer, to provide for my family at this point, in my life.
I got home determined once again to live life to its fullest. I went for a bike ride and then took the dogs over to a deserted beach for a romp in the water and I went for a swim.
Maybe the rest of the guys from the class of 64, don’t want to delve into the past and find out the news on long lost classmates, and who can blame them.
The ones I have talked to have lived good lives are in retirement and are still active. There is no doubt that they have been through some tough times over the years raising their families and losing loved ones along the way. Who can blame them if they may not feel the urge to delve into the unknown of long lost classmates. I know it will take me some time before I can start up this pursuit again.