Death Of An Old Friend

As we enter or are well into our senior years, probably most of us have experienced the death of an old friend.

Other than those who were killed in the line of duty, when I was a paramedic, this is the first that I am aware of that I have lost someone my own age or younger. Given that I haven't lived within a thousand miles of my hometown since I was in my early 20s, I have probably lost friends whose death I was never aware of, however.

Today, I learned of the death of an old friend, one who I was very close to at one time but whom I haven't spoken to in almost fifty years.

During my junior and senior years in high school, my best friends were Bob Filler and Don Salewski, and we all attended different schools in different towns. I went to Stephenson High School, Don was in Menominee High School, and Bob attended Marinette Catholic Central High School.

Somehow, we ended up together, and I don't remember how that came about; friends of friends, probably, because I knew quite a few people in Menominee and Marinette from Boy Scouts, although neither Bob nor Don was in Boy Scouts.

Because Bob had a job as a DJ at a radio station, he was able to get an apartment in Marinette long before the rest of us were ready to go out on our own, so that became a place to hang out. At that time, DJs could play whatever they wanted to play during their show. As a consequence, he was frequently receiving promotional albums. The records and albums sent to radio stations were of a better quality vinyl than the ones you could buy in the store because they were made to be played over and over, and he was able to keep the ones that were sent to him at the station, so he had everything imaginable, including a lot of stuff that we'd never heard of.

A lot of people were in and out of that apartment but when everyone else went home, there were usually just the three of us.

A lot of stories that I tell, to others, or just playing them out in my head, come from Bob Filler's apartment. He was a friend unlike many of the others that I had at that time in that I didn't have to pretend to be anyone other than who I was around him. Those were good times.

When I moved to Southern California, I stayed with Bob Filler and his sister, Patty, who was then working as assistant managers of an apartment complex owned by Mrs. See of See's Candies.

When Bob decided to move back to Wisconsin, I took Bob's job over for a time, because it required two people. His sister and I worked that job together until we were both able to find others.

When Bob left California, forty-three years ago, I never saw him again. We spoke on the phone a few times, then we lost touch.

At one time, I tried to locate him. I found someone by that name who was involved in community theater in Green Bay, but I didn't think it was him so I never tried to make contact. From the obituary, I can see that it was him, and I wish I had.

It seems that his death shouldn't make any difference to me because I would have never heard from him again anyhow, but it does. Although it is unlikely that I would have ever found a way to contact him, that fact that it is now too late saddens me.

He died on August 2, but I just learned of it today, as he was buried today, on his birthday. He was six days older than me.

I decided to post this as a thread because I'll probably tell some stories here in the near future. A couple that I have already told are here and here.

 

Had we both stayed in the same part of the country, we'd have probably remained friends.