I Tracked Down a Long-Lost Friend
Not just any long-lost friend. I tracked down the very first friend I ever made in school. I was three. I was in special education for several years, starting here and he happened to be physically handicapped, relying on a walker at such a young age. We always sat together on the bus or van on the way to school and back, and I always looked forward to seeing him. To this day, I still remember where he lived at that time! Then again it was directly off the highway on a dead end that was the final piece of a road that stretched across the entirety of the town where I grew up!
After a year or two I didn't see him again. I began kindergarten and I'm assuming he went to a more specialized school that accommodated his physical needs. It would be close to five years before I saw him again. Fourth grade, my final year in special ed, ironically enough. My mother took my brother and I out for pizza down the hill from our house when she bumped into his mother. I don't ever truly recall ever meeting her until this late Spring afternoon in 1994. But she asked if I remembered her son and when I said I did, she briefly left and came back with him, holding him by his wrists. His hair was darker than I remembered, and he was looking quite handsome for a ten-year-old! I got up and we hugged. He asked me all the questions, including if key people he remembered were still in that school. After that, his mother took him back out and I wouldn't see him again for another year and a half.
When we reconnected again, we both were in the same junior high school, him now using crutches to move around, and even though his class sat next to my class at lunch, and he and I were in resource room together, neither of us remembered the other until it clicked in my head...halfway through the year. I told him he looked familiar after the teacher stepped away for a few minutes. And after he answered a few questions I had for him, he loudly proclaimed "I DO know you!!". He disappeared again after that year. See a pattern?
I'd bump into him and his mother again briefly at the mall, where my father took me to buy clothes for eighth grade. We were walking into Revolution (who remembers THAT store??) as they were coming out. This was the first interaction I had with his mother in three years. I know I bumped into him again near the end of the decade. I don't remember how and where. But I had his number, which I actually still remember, and he'd moved out of town, but not too far away. I'd call him but I sucked at conversations, and he was rather quiet (or bored) and I decided to let it go.
I bumped into him one more time in early 2000. I bumped into another old junior high school friend who has cerebral palsy and relied on crutches. We spoke for a few minutes about guitars when I went to introduce myself to his friend. That's when I immediately realized that it was him. That was the last time I ever saw him. Five years later, with the aforementioned other friend in my car one summer night, I fleeting asked him if he still kept in touch with my old friend. He told me that he'd lost touch with him. That saddened me.
So why, twenty years later, am I trying to seek him out? I don't know. Maybe I just want to hear his voice one more time. Maybe I just want to know he's doing ok. Maybe it's because I on-and-off have been thinking about him all these years. If the listing I found is real, he's still living with his parents somewhere east of the Mason-Dixon Line. That sadly wouldn't surprise me too much considering his condition. I took a chance and called him an hour ago. No one answered the phone and I left a voicemail. I'm almost positive the woman leaving the voicemail greeting was his mother.
I briefly stated my case and left the door open. I also made it clear that this would be the only time I call, as there's no point in trying twice. I've already said what I have to say. Should he choose to call me, I'm very much looking forward to hearing from him. Should he choose not to call (which seems more likely if I'm being pragmatic), I'm fine with that as well. But I sure hope he does reach out.
After a year or two I didn't see him again. I began kindergarten and I'm assuming he went to a more specialized school that accommodated his physical needs. It would be close to five years before I saw him again. Fourth grade, my final year in special ed, ironically enough. My mother took my brother and I out for pizza down the hill from our house when she bumped into his mother. I don't ever truly recall ever meeting her until this late Spring afternoon in 1994. But she asked if I remembered her son and when I said I did, she briefly left and came back with him, holding him by his wrists. His hair was darker than I remembered, and he was looking quite handsome for a ten-year-old! I got up and we hugged. He asked me all the questions, including if key people he remembered were still in that school. After that, his mother took him back out and I wouldn't see him again for another year and a half.
When we reconnected again, we both were in the same junior high school, him now using crutches to move around, and even though his class sat next to my class at lunch, and he and I were in resource room together, neither of us remembered the other until it clicked in my head...halfway through the year. I told him he looked familiar after the teacher stepped away for a few minutes. And after he answered a few questions I had for him, he loudly proclaimed "I DO know you!!". He disappeared again after that year. See a pattern?
I'd bump into him and his mother again briefly at the mall, where my father took me to buy clothes for eighth grade. We were walking into Revolution (who remembers THAT store??) as they were coming out. This was the first interaction I had with his mother in three years. I know I bumped into him again near the end of the decade. I don't remember how and where. But I had his number, which I actually still remember, and he'd moved out of town, but not too far away. I'd call him but I sucked at conversations, and he was rather quiet (or bored) and I decided to let it go.
I bumped into him one more time in early 2000. I bumped into another old junior high school friend who has cerebral palsy and relied on crutches. We spoke for a few minutes about guitars when I went to introduce myself to his friend. That's when I immediately realized that it was him. That was the last time I ever saw him. Five years later, with the aforementioned other friend in my car one summer night, I fleeting asked him if he still kept in touch with my old friend. He told me that he'd lost touch with him. That saddened me.
So why, twenty years later, am I trying to seek him out? I don't know. Maybe I just want to hear his voice one more time. Maybe I just want to know he's doing ok. Maybe it's because I on-and-off have been thinking about him all these years. If the listing I found is real, he's still living with his parents somewhere east of the Mason-Dixon Line. That sadly wouldn't surprise me too much considering his condition. I took a chance and called him an hour ago. No one answered the phone and I left a voicemail. I'm almost positive the woman leaving the voicemail greeting was his mother.
I briefly stated my case and left the door open. I also made it clear that this would be the only time I call, as there's no point in trying twice. I've already said what I have to say. Should he choose to call me, I'm very much looking forward to hearing from him. Should he choose not to call (which seems more likely if I'm being pragmatic), I'm fine with that as well. But I sure hope he does reach out.
