FRIENDSHIP

This is a story of an deep and trusting friendship. I am reminded of friendships such as that of biblical King David and Jonathon as they out maneuvered King Saul, or in more recent years, Gale Sayers and Brian Piccolo as depicted in Brian’s Song, a movie about these two Chicago Bears football legends and their friendship. There are many others you can think of but in truth, my life has been filled with very few of these special friendships. True friends don’t come around that often and these deep and intimate friendships need to be nourished and enjoyed.. This is the story of friendship with my pal Jim.

When I first met Jim, he was my neighbor living across the street. Over the first few years of knowing each other, we had our ups and downs. We were both drinking heavily and had not yet found our way to sobriety. Jim was also the person I mentioned in my story of Miracles, Miracles, and Miracles who lost his sobriety during our trip to Mexico. I am pleased to say that he once again rejoined the land of the living upon his return home. When Jim and I were drinking, we only seemed to tolerate each other but in sobriety we found a kinship that has lasted over the decades.

Jim and I just seemed to click. We enjoyed many of the same things, among them deep sea fishing. I remember on one of our long range fishing trips to Guadalupe Island in Mexico. This was an eight day trip on a boat we had chartered along with 12 others. We were at sea all of the eight days and we did our fishing in and around Guadalupe Island, known for having some of the largest resident Yellow Tail in the Pacific.

The island was uninhabited except for a few hard hat divers who dove for Abalone. These same divers would come out to where we were anchored and start throwing lobster on the boat in exchange for anything we would give to them. They especially loved chocolate candy bars. In return we would end up with more lobster than we knew what to do with. The first night we’d get a barbecue going on the fantail of the boat and have a steaming cauldron of sea water going in the galley.
We’d throw our steak on the barbi and grab a lobster out of the bait tank and put it into the pot in the galley. Steak and lobster at its best.

One night Jim slipped a lobster shell into my bunk. I remember climbing into my bunk and as I slid beneath the covers, my foot hit something cold, wet, and spiny. I came out of that bunk like my butt was on fire. What in the heck was that? I warily pulled the covers back and found the lobster shell lying in the bed. Jim was so afraid of “pay back” that he sat up all night instead of facing me. I thought it was a great prank and didn’t concern myself with getting even.

I remember the first time we talked about taking the kids fishing. Jim said we should take the kids to Happy Jack’s. That was a small pond filled with trout. It was a fish farm and any cast would immediately result in catching a fish. Almost literally like catching fish in a rain barrel. We had to pay for the fish but Jim thought it would be good for the kids to take their own rods and reels instead of using those provided at the pond. The kids could cast their own lines, reel in their catch and allow them to develop confidence in their fishing abilities. It was lots of fun but since we had five kids between us, it often cost us a small fortune as we had to pay for the fish we caught. The kids learned to clean their fish and we would eat the trout for dinner. Our wives were not so happy about paying for this pleasure. Our wives were also best friends. Kathy and Barbara had known each other since childhood and we would often hear from one of them say as we were eating, “I wonder how much that bite cost?” Barbara and Kathy never really learned the value of making a memory. Today, I know that this remains one of my children’s cherished memories.

As a follow-up we often took our kids fishing at Foster Lake near Idyllwild, California. Jim’s dad had a cabin in the mountains, surrounded by tall pine trees, blue sky and at 7,000 feet, plenty of fresh air. Jim would take his two boys and his daughter and I’d take my son and daughter and we’d go to the lake to teach our kids to fish. This was a much larger lake and the kids used their skills learned at Happy Jack’s to catch trout in this beautiful lake setting.

While at the cabin, Jim and I would often drive to nearby Lake Hemet and fish, just the two of us. This was usually in the late afternoon and early evening hours. During these times we reflected on our lives and the conversations often became much deeper as we shared intimate details of our lives, our hopes, our dreams, our failures, our relationships and more. We shared a trust in each other that what we told each other stayed with each other. A rare commodity today. I always felt comfortable around Jim and we blended together easily.

We also shared a love for poker. Once a month, Jim and his wife and my wife and I, along with two other couples got together to have dinner and play poker. We played for low stakes and nobody ever lost more than five or six bucks. The real trophy was who was the biggest winner of the night. Jim or me. Who was the BIG KAHUNA? Not sure how the name originated but the winner wore that title until the next month’s poker party. If Jim had been the big winner, I could rest assured there would be a large poster on his front door at the next poker get together. It would say in large letters, “WELCOME TO THE HOME OF THE BIG KAHUNA!” And of course I would engage in some of that same behavior, all in good fun. I would sometimes sneak to his house before the party and place my own poster over his. Great fun!

It seemed that whenever our families visited together, Jim and I always found time to be apart from them to have some alone time with each other. As I remember our times together, I am warmed as I immerse myself in these memories. We would go for walks in the mountains and talk on a variety of subjects, often about fishing for trout or dove hunting. But we also spoke of those things we would never share with another human being. Being with Jim was always a very special time.

Jim was more than a friend. He was a confidant and someone I could always rely on to be there for me and the same could be said for me. Maybe it’s because guys don’t always let their feelings or deepest thoughts be shared with another guy. Or maybe it’s that Jim and I seemed to always be on the same page of music. We just enjoyed each others company. It wasn’t like we were joined at the hip. We often did not see each other for weeks at a time, but when we did it was like we had never left. I think the best thing for me is not to over think our friendship, just let it be what it is and enjoy it. Sadly these times were to come to an end sooner than they should have.

Jim died one morning from a stomach ulcer that ruptured. I had not seen Jim for a couple of weeks. Kathy and I were going through a divorce at the time. Apparently Kathy was angry with me and decided to punish me by not telling me of Jim’s death until after the funeral. I guess she was afraid of seeing me with Jim’s family. I was hurt and devastated to have not been allowed to attend to my friend and his family following his passing.

I knew needed to spend some alone time to honor Jim’s passing. My special spot was high in the mountains. A two hour drive from North Hollywood led me to an 8,000 foot campground on Mount Abel. This campground was always nearly deserted as it was rustic. No running water and pit toilets. But the surroundings were beautiful. Tall pines with amazing views of the landscape several thousand feet below. Sunrises and sunsets to die for and it was quiet. Only the noise of the wind rustling through the pines and the songs of the birds. And during the week I could count on being the only camper. The perfect place to get away for a few days of alone time.

One morning I was out walking when I had an eerie feeling that I was not alone. On the trail I was walking was a very large fallen pine tree. The trunk was nearly six feet in diameter and the tree was at least 50 feet long. I climbed up on this fallen log and lost myself in the silence and the beauty that surrounded me. I was in meditation when I realized that Jim was sitting next to me. He was very much alive. I began telling him how sorry I was to have not been there for him and how sorry I was to have missed his memorial service. Jim told me not to concern myself. He was here now and we would have the chance to spend some time together to say our goodbyes. Jim, as usual, was talking up a storm. He was telling me stories and jokes I had not heard before, and was telling me how great it is on the other side. He spoke of our friendship and how he honored the love and trust we felt and carried for each other. He also said something that has stayed with me ever since. He said, “Ray, if you ever need me, I am as close to you as I am now. Just think the words and I’ll be there.” And he has been. I often hear his voice in my quiet hours, letting me know that everything is fine, that we’re as close as we were when we were fishing. He also reminded me that he was the Big Kahuna! We said goodbye to each other and then he departed as quickly as he had arrived.

I know that many of you have had similar experiences with loved ones and others will scoff that these things don’t happen. I am not here to convince you one way or the other, I am just telling my experience with my friend.

Jim passed away nearly 40 years ago but he and I remain as close as we ever were. Friends never pass away. True friendships stand the test of time and eternity. We’ll be seeing each other again! Vaya Con Dios, Compadre!