The Grain of Childhood

Sometimes I wonder what ever became of the kids I played baseball with on the street where I grew up. As we moved from the tweens to the teens, we developed different interests and a wider circle of friends. Randy moved away to the Orange County area. His father was a rocket scientist and took a new job in the aerospace industry which was growing in the early 1960s. Paul went to a Catholic school, wasn't too motivated in the area of academics, and put his energy into cars, working with his hands, and avoiding the future. He ultimately ended up in the army, but because he volunteered, was able to avoid Vietnam in favor of Germany or Korea, or both. Last I heard, he married a woman who was slightly older, a single parent, and they both did fairly well flipping houses.

Jimmy is more a mystery. He had no academic inclination either, so I guess he took a series of jobs and may or may now have been married with kids.

From left, Randy, Me, Paul. Boy Scout summer camp, Bass Lake, Ca c1958

In the mid 1980s, I heard from Randy right out of the blue. Somehow he got an address and phone number for me. (I was in the book) and I drove from the East Bay to Marin County where he was li ing in Mill Valley. We worked out a time to meet and catch-up a bit. I'd heard he was awarded 3 scholarships as a high school senior, and ultimately chose UC Berkeley over USC and Cal Tech. Not surprising. But what was surprising was the tale he told me that day. He'd dropped out of Berkeley in his Junior year after taking copious amounts of LSD. Then, he met a woman and joined the Church of Scientology and proceeded to tell me how that saved his life. As he detailed the tenants of that well known cult, I could see how it might appeal to him, with all its fancy equipment and leanings toward a science fiction type of reality. I couldn't wait to get out of there, Driving back across the bay that afternoon, I knew I'd never see him again.

In fingering the jagged grain of my childhood and these three "friends," I realized we work with what we have. Nothing more or less. We had some good games, we fought, we laughed, we lost a bit of innocence together, and we went our separate ways.

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