Stories From Under A Bootheel (Rants, Laughs, and Tears)

Chapter 5 Friends Part 1. Serendipity

A few years back, Bill and I were having dinner. We have known each other since the fifth grade. That is over half a century. He is a year older than I. He grew up in a better neighborhood across town from me. We didn't attend the same church (I was raised Christian, he is Jewish.) We had remarkably little in common and usually ran in separate circles. Yet serendipity often brought us together.  

Bill, taught me how to tie a tie, gave me my first alcoholic beverage. It was a Mai Tai at a poker game at his friend Howard's house. We were all underage, but the parents were out and left their liquor cabinet unguarded. Bill took me to my first professional sports game, the Memphis Wings Hockey. His grandmother gave me my first taste of bagels and cream cheese, still a favorite treat for me. He was best man at my wedding in Northern California and I was a huppah bearer at his wedding in Southern California. We have frequently lived in different parts of the country and yet always manage to find each other to get together.

Let me digress from that dinner and go back several decades to give you some examples of the serendipity that brought Bill and I together. (Cue the flashing lights and rumble of the Tardis engines as we jump back in time. Kids, if you don't know, the Tardis is a time machine, Google it and then check out "Doctor Who," the longest running television series in history. I recommend the David Tennant era from 2005 to 2010 and the Matt Smith Era from 2010 to 2013. If you can only see one episode, make it "Blink.")

The summer after my junior year of high school I attended a summer program at Christian Brother's College in Memphis. I was able to attend because my father was working in Memphis and had an apartment walking distance from the college. I could stay with him and walk to the school for the program activities.

The program was for gifted high school students interested in physics and computer programing. This gave me my first experiences programming. Kids, in those days programing a computer required typing your program on to punch cards that you handed in and if you were lucky, got your results back the next day on a print out. There were no monitor screens or keyboards with direct access to the computer. This was the stone age. In those days, there were few automatic checks for programming taboos like divide by zeros or other infinite loops; so, some of us would deliberately program them in just to watch the computer overheat and dance around, figuratively of course. It was the people in charge of the computer who literally would run around like crazy when this happened.

The physics activities consisted of my lab partner and I playing around recklessly with a neutron howitzer which sounds a lot scarier than it really is. It was basically a small garbage can that was filled with wax and that had a radioactive neutron source in its center. There was a long narrow hole that led from the neutron source to the top of the can. This provided a steady stream of neutrons on which we conducted various measurements and other less than thrilling activities. So naturally we horsed around a lot, but otherwise did not create any nuclear havoc.

This summer program led to me getting to know several of the professors at the school and to me convincing the administration there to let me enter as a probationary freshman in the fall even though I had not yet graduated high school.

What does any of this have to do with Bill? Well, when I checked into the dorm to start my freshman year, I discovered Bill and I were in the same dormitory pod. Neither of us knew the other planned to attend there as it was a last-minute decision for both of us. We shared the pod with six business majors from Chicago who got drunk every weekend and didn't sober up until Sunday when they did their homework.

Most of the student body was catholic and many were a bit snobbish about it. I quickly learned enough Hail Mary's and such to pass for catholic. Bill refused to. I respected that. On the other hand, I would even go to Mass and lead the start of class prayer when called on. I'm very flexible when it comes to religion. My own relationship with God is very real and very personal and doesn't require anyone else's interpretation or approval. Likewise, I do not feel it is my place to question the beliefs of others. I believe everyone's beliefs are personal and should be respected.

Bill and I both left after our freshman year. Bill transferred to the University of Arkansas and I transferred to Georgia Tech.

Now, let's jump forward a year to the time Bill just showed up without warning outside my Georgia Tech dorm room door. He was just sitting on the floor outside my room waiting for me to return from class. When I saw him sitting there as if it were no big deal, there was no way I was going to show any surprise. Although I was puzzled how he knew which room was mine. I guess he asked and someone told him. Anyway, I just nodded nonchalantly as I was unlocking my door and said, "Hey Bill."

He smiled like it was no big deal and explained he was on his way to a summer job in Florida and thought he'd come by and say hi.

That evening we walked down to underground Atlanta for dinner. Underground Atlanta was a night spot hidden under the elevated portions of the freeways in down town Atlanta. It was not in the best part of town, but it was fun just trying to find it. We eventually did.

After dinner as we were walking back to the dorm, this grungy looking guy comes out of the shadows of a narrow alley mumbling something I couldn't understand. He flashed a knife holding it close to his side so no other passersby could see it. I had only glimpsed the guy in my peripheral vision; so, I just ignored him and kept walking. Bill, followed my lead. He later told me he wasn't worried because I was between him and the would-be attacker. I wasn't worried because I was oblivious.

There is a French proverb that says, "Dieu aide à trois sortes de personnes, aux fous, aux enfants, & aux ivrognes." It translates to, "God helps three kinds of people: fools, children, and drunkards." Since I don't fall into the latter two categories, only one explanation remains. The frustrated robber must have decided I was deaf and blind or too foolish to have much worth stealing and ducked back into the alley since I had kept walking ignoring him completely.

The robber was right about my not having anything worth stealing. He may have also been right about my being foolish. The only reason I'm aware of what happened is that afterwards I asked Bill if he'd seen that guy who oddly jumped in and out of the alley. Bill then explained to me what had just happened. Then I realized, he did have a knife in his hand. It just didn't register with me right away. In my defense, I didn't notice because I was probably focused on the story that I was telling Bill. I'm usually telling stories and not easily interrupted. Much to my wife's dismay.