Ken started at left guard for the Lynn English High School Bulldogs’ football team.
Sept. 29 was red letter day for me. If it was a “slow news” day, Steve Hartman would have run a closing piece for the CBS evening news about it being the 65th reunion for all those who graduated from Lynn English High School in 1958.
That’s right after counting on your fingers even though I’m one of the youngest members of the Lynn English “Bulldogs,” I’m older than dirt! However, out of the 488 graduates, 115 members have passed on. I’m side vertical.
Eleven years ago, the August/September 2012 issue of AARP magazine had an article about the movie, “Last Vegas,” starring Michael Douglas, Robert De Niro, Morgan Freeman, Kevin Kline and Mary Steenburgen. The article stated that there are four categories of friends, “Just Friends,” “Must Friends,” “Trust Friends,” and “Rust Friends.” With rust friends it could be 10 or 20 years since you’ve seen one of your rust friends, the two of you will pick up your conversation as if there hasn’t been any lapse of time. Rust Friends are your forever friends.
I thought Last Vegas was an entertaining movie, having viewed it at least twice. The movie reminded me of my rust friends from high school. Most of the guys I hung with were members of the football team, but not all of them. About 12 of us sat at the same table eating our lunch in the school’s cafeteria.
If Casey didn’t think of a prank, I thought of a prank. With an eagle eye, as soon as I discovered that there weren’t any teachers on lunchroom duty to maintain order, I told the guys, “Quick, devourer your food!” That was the signal to prepare napkins with excess pads of butter, cut the tops off of milk cartons, scrape everyone’s mashed potatoes and gravy onto one plate, and be prepared to throw your dessert; cream puffs or dishes of pudding with whipped cream were weapons of mass chaos.
“OK, we’re going to hit the second table over with all the nerds! Is everyone ready, fire!” We watched as a tidal wave of milk cartons; butter bombs and assorted deserts obliterated the nerd’s table. The nerds’ voices were washed away in a tidal wave various color of food.
At the same moment everyone at our table stood and ran for the lunchroom exit. As soon as we were outside, we blended in with the students who didn’t like to eat in the cafeteria. They were smart. About 30 seconds later the vice principal exited the cafeteria. His head quickly from left to right as he asked one of us, “Did you see some students run from the cafeteria?”
“Yeah, they went that way!” Now the vice principal was in “hot pursuit,” but he never caught the perpetrators. When I was attending public school, the elementary school were grades one to six, junior high was seven to nine and high school was 10 to 12. At my senior prom, our principal, Mr. Thistle, greeted everyone who entered. I double dated with my “Rust Friend, Ed, and his date who were behind us. I introduced my date to Mr. Thistle who smiled and said, “Ken is a great student. I wish I had a whole school full of students like him.” We walked into our prom and Ed said to me, “If Mr. Thistle had a school full of students like you, the school would be rubble in less than a week!”
Six weeks after high school graduation, I experienced my first loss of a classmate, Judy. She was one of a friend’s girlfriend. Judy was vacationing on Cape Cod. Being unfamiliar with the streets after attending a drive-in movie and while driving the wrong way on a one-way street, she had a head-on collision and died.
My 25th high school reunion was in July 1983. Having two young children at the time, I attended my reunion alone. It was great because I hadn’t seen some classmates for 15 years or more. It wasn’t until December when I received a Christmas card from one of my former teammates. The card mentioned about Bruce, one of our two tackles, having a heart attack in September. He died as a result of the heart attack. How could that be true? Bruce was so full of life several months ago at our reunion? I didn’t know that Bruce was a diabetic and diabetics usually don’t survive a heart attack.
I visited Massachusetts twice in 2012, May and October, each time Casey and I got together with eight other classmates for a meal. Casey didn’t stop smoking soon enough and developed serious pulmonary issues by October 2012. After several phone conversations in November and early December, I decided to visit Casey to have one last drink together and say goodbye.
With all the people traveling to visit family/friends for Christmas, I couldn’t make a reservation until Friday, Jan. 4, 2013. I planned to visit Casey in the hospital and have a “last drink” with him. My plan didn’t happen. On Sunday, Dec. 30, 2012, Al’s wife called and said, “Al died at 1:30 this morning!” As soon as my wife heard me say, “No!” She knew Al had passed. Sue wanted to have a viewing, a Mass and a Celebration of Life for Al on the same day, Jan. 5, 2013. Sue said, “Ken, I want you to give Al’s eulogy.”
All week long my tear ducts worked overtime as I wrote and rewrote Al’s eulogy. The final draft was on 3x5 cards. There weren’t any weather problems with my flight to Massachusetts. At the viewing I touched Al’s right hand with my right hand and told him to listen carefully to the eulogy I had prepared for him.
For over three years, Al was my “reader.” I would email him every chapter of my first book, The Bulldog Brigade: Everyday Red & Gray and every commentary for him to critique and suggest improvements or something I should have included.
At Al’s Celebration of Life, I was introduced and walked to the microphone with my 3x5 cards. Don’t ask me how I was able to deliver his eulogy while controlling my emotions, but I succeeded. I believe in “Closing Big!” my final sentence was, “To Friday nights I can’t remember with my best friend I’ll never forget!” Many of Al’s friends and relatives had tear-stained cheeks.
After four and a half years of not having a reader, out of the blue, I received an email from a longtime friend I had not seen for 56 years. She asked if I was the same Ken Beaton who took her to my high school prom? I responded, “Yes!” Being a voracious reader, I asked her if she would like to be my reader. Her suggestions or concerns were always spot on. I valued each of her suggestions for five years.
Unfortunately, Peggy was diagnosed with cancer in 2021. Her body could not handle her chemo treatments, so she stopped them. I visited her in Danville, four times in 2022. I’d leave at 6 a.m. to arrive in Danville a little before 10 a.m. We’d eat brunch and talk for three hours. I’d give her a hug and leave Danville at 1 p.m. I’d arrive in Carson City a little before 5 p.m. The fourth time I visited her last year was Tuesday, Sept. 27, 2022. I had a feeling about the visit. Two days after our visit, Peggy’s middle son sent me a text, “Peggy passed away a couple of hours ago.”
Hold your rust friends and your memories close to your heart because they’re priceless.