First, I took a long run. Right now, a long run is anything six miles or more. When I was really fit, a long run started at ten miles. Well, I did 9.42 so that was pretty close to one of my old-fashioned long runs. I even did some multi-pacing. The prospect of Mary Peyton Rogers walking me down in another MDCC 5 K has me running scared. Literally.
After eating and showering, I went to David Pentecost's funeral. I first met David in May of 1959. Yeah, that's pretty close to knowing him my whole life. We moved in at 422 West Harding. David lived at 418. He was three and a half years older than me. We grew up playing Tarzan, Cowboys and Indians, and war. He helped me build a tree house. He played baseball with me. We caught bees and lightening bugs together. We ran behind the mosquito spay truck together. We called it the fog machine. We rode bicycles together. We went to movies together at the old Paramount Theater.
He was there when I fought Mike Moses. He was there when I stubbed my toe. He was there when we used to go to the country and swim the pond. He was there at all my birthday parties. He was there when I had to go to court for crashing his dad's car. He was always there.
When we got a little older, he used to wag me around like I was his little brother. He took me places downtown that I would never have gone on my own. We raced little cars somewhere on Howard Street. We ate a steak sandwich at a motel restaurant on the bypass. He took me fishing on the Yazoo river. He taught me how to ride a motorcycle, his motorcycle. He taught me his paper route. When he quit his route, he passed it on to me. That was my first job, and it taught me a lot about life, how to be responsible, and how to deal with people.
After we grew up and married our lives took different courses, and our paths rarely crossed. When I worked for All-Delta Pest Control, I inspected his mom's house for termites every year. She always invited me in, poured me a cup of coffee, and told me about David, where he was living, what was going on in his life.
The last time I saw him was when I voted for president in November. He was working at the polls. He looked healthy then, and I remember thinking how good it was to see him, and how those early childhood bonds never die. Time does not dim them a bit.
While I was out running one day a year or two ago, he drove up beside me and said, "I used to do that with you."
"I remember," I told him. We had a 2.5 mile route that we measured with a bicycle that had a odometer on it. I remember the time my dad took the whole neighborhood on a bicycle ride to McIntyre Lake where we jumped off the bridge, and swam, and ate hot dogs. David made the trip. I remember the time at the cabin when we took a walk in the dark. I saw something that spooked me, screamed, and outran David back to the safety of the cabin.
I remember David, who usually told me the truth, coming back from camp and telling me how they had to put their knives in their mouths and climb up into the rafters of their cabins, and defend themselves against bears that came in to kill them. I believed him, and when my parents stated talking about sending me to camp, I was terrified. I remember him telling me how the Russians would bomb us one day. There is no way that people who did not live through the cold war can know how frightening that was. I remember him telling me that he and I were going to ride our bicycles to Africa. I believed that we could and would. I'm sure now that David knew he was telling me a tall one.
In short, David was a major figure in my life for a long, long time. He was good to me. My only regret is that I never told him that not only are those some of my best memories, but that I am grateful for the time he invested in me. I was just a kid. He had other friends. He could have hung out with them, but he spent a lot of time with me. As I reflect on those days, I sorely regret that I never expressed my appreciation and gratitude to him.
After the funeral, I went to the pool and swam 1,500 straight. The shoulder gets a little better every two days. I wanted to go to Plate City afterwards, but the day was gone, and Penny wanted to eat. We went to Hilltop and got a steak. It was good, yeah.
With supper past, there was nothing left to do but go home and watch Gold Rush. Well, I didn't really watch. I took naps while it was on. It was a good but emotional day. Thank you Jesus. When I turned the lights out and started drifting off to sleep, I was thinking of David.
What a tribute to a friend. We all have someone special from our past that leaves us remembering that special bond. This was a great read and worth every minute. Makes you appreciate what life has to offer.
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