Friends and Adventures

I thought long and hard about what I should write for this post and in the process I considered such fascinating topics as: 1) why do my grandchildren laugh at me all the time; 2) why didn’t I get some of my grandchildren’s musical talent; 3) why do fish like great big, juicy worms; 4) why do I hate rattlesnakes; 5) why do mosquitos like my wife so much; and many other important but superfluous topics.

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As I thought about these things, I decided to write about some of my friends and some of the adventures I had growing up. I was fortunate to have many childhood friends. The names of a few of them include Karl, John, Bill, Richard, Ron, Jim, Tony, and Dale.

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We had a lot of fun going over to the elementary school and playing baseball all summer. In the afternoons when it was too hot to play, we would walk over to Liberty Park and stand in line in the hot sun, sometimes for longer than an hour just so we could swim in the cold water. We did this nearly every day and when we got home, we would frequently spend time on my front porch playing a game of Carrom (a board game that requires some skill to play). We would choose teams (two per team) and we even had Carrom tournaments.

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We had a lot of fun in those days playing, teasing, and visiting each other. Many of these friendships are still strong and we still have some communication. While I enjoyed my friendship with all these guys, I want to focus on one friend, Bill, and talk about him and some of his struggles and challenges, which were many.

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I first met Bill when he moved into our neighborhood when I was in the fifth or sixth grade. He was a big kid and turned out to be a big man. He always weighed at least 75+ pounds more than me and when we played football (always tackle) he scared the heck out of all of us when he carried the ball. I remember one afternoon while playing he did something to make me mad and my temper took over and I didn’t care what happened to me. So, the next time he was handed the ball he ran straight towards me, and I didn’t move out of his way, but I tackled him. He was surprised and so were the other guys. Never again was I afraid of him.

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I remember one time Bill and a couple of other friends and I went fishing for three days at Flaming Gorge Reservoir and we really enjoyed ourselves. We rented a boat and fished from it as well as trying our luck from the shore. The problem was that Bill didn’t have a fishing license and the rangers were patrolling the waters very closely. Three times a ranger came by and asked to see our fishing license and three times Bill tried stalling the ranger and three times I yelled, “He doesn’t have one!” and the ranger always started towards us. Bill would give me a look that implied he would like to toss me into the lake, but he fumbled through his tackle box and found an old license and held it up. The ranger saw it and thought I was just teasing him, and he left us alone.

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Bill quit fishing after the third time. I asked why and he told me he was tired of taking chances because he wasn’t sure how many more times, he could fool the ranger.

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Bill was frequently the butt of some of my pranks, but he never let it bother our friendship. We maintained a close relationship until his death several years ago.

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This great friend had a hard life. He was raised in a home where he didn’t get much support from his parents and little or no guidance. What he did get, however, was a lot of negativity. He was at my house quite frequently and had a great relationship with both of my parents. 

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Bill was very intelligent, but he never lived up to his potential. He joined the Air Force and was discharged with a health issue (weight that he couldn’t keep under control). He married a woman from Thailand, had a son, and when he got his family over to this country, she deserted him and their son. He went to the University of Utah and eventually graduated with a degree in journalism but never worked. Over time Bill’s health deteriorated so much that he lost a foot to diabetes, had an exterior bowel bag, and was eventually confined to a wheelchair.

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I would go visit with him and after my first wife passed on, I took him on several road trips in my new Mustang, where we would just talk and enjoy each other’s company. I think both of us enjoyed this time together.

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I remember the day I got a call from one of my sisters telling me that they just read Bill’s name in the obituary. I was shocked and immediately checked the paper to confirm for myself that it was true. 

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My father and my sisters and I were the only friends who went to the mortuary to honor Bill. As I visited with his brother and son, I learned that the police believe he was murdered, and they had a suspect. This person of interest was never arrested because they lacked evidence to prove their case. The suspect was a woman that Bill befriended and helped when she was down and needed help. 

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I will never forget our friendship and the good times we had together. Also, I won’t forget the lessons I learned through my association with Bill. I learned that life isn’t always fair, there are many who are less fortunate than me, yet they still have much to offer if we will just give them a chance.



Happy Failing Forward,