"Stay, ahhh just a little bit longer,
Please, please, please, please, please
Tell me that you're going to.
Now your Daddy don't mind,
And your Mommy don't mind,
If we have another dance, yeah,
Just one more time.
Oh won't you stay just a little bit longer,
Please let me hear you say that you will."
The words to "Stay" and its extraordinary melody take me back to a time when kids exchanged Valentines in grade school. That song took Maurice Williams and the Zodiacs to number one on the record charts in the summer of 1960. The magical falsetto of Shane Gaston rings sharp in my mind and is forever imbedded in the musical chambers of my heart. (A more recent version of "Stay" was covered by Jackson Browne on his live album "Runnin' On Empty" recorded in 1977 with an equally haunting falsetto by David Lindley. The words on Browne's version were altered to speak to the audience in attendance at his performances, but the music is so reminiscent of the earlier Zodiacs tune. I hear the Browne cover more often on the oldies stations than I do the original.)
The aging cigar box into which I'm staring is one of three containing intimate treasures of my youth that have accompanied me in every move I have made since leaving my parents' home in the summer of 1970. Items from which memories spring have been casually tossed into these boxes for safekeeping. Seldom have I lifted the lids of these boxes over the years to let the memories fly out, but my move from Arkadelphia to Russellville in the past year has allowed ample opportunity to peer into the sacred cigar boxes and other larger boxes clutching my mementoes of days gone by.
Looking through these makeshift treasure chests was sparked by a letter I received today from a life-long friend. Enclosed with a Valentine's Day greeting was a photocopy of a well worn undated "love note" in a juvenile scribble that came from my hand many years ago. While I chuckled at the note itself, I see it as a relic from grade school days and a symbol of adoration and friendship that spans time. Among the items I discovered in my old cigar box were some Valentines received in another day and time with messages written by the hands of children; a watch stopped long ago that had been worn by my father; a few favorite baseball cards; ticket stubs to Arkansas Razorbacks football games, St. Louis Cardinals baseball games, and concerts I attended in the '60s and early '70s; some pictures of grade school classmates; patches removed from Cub Scout and Boy Scout uniforms; a pair of rectangular lens sunglasses similar to those worn by Roger McGuinn of the Byrds that I wore in junior high school; a few arrowheads; an Indian head penny; and several marbles. Each keepsake I hold in my hand evokes such sweet memories.
And it is indeed the memories of friends and classmates that bring life to the things safely tucked away in the cigar boxes. To flesh out my memories I presented myself with a Christmas gift a couple of months back. That gift is a mission to contact all my high school classmates and friends along the way in order to personally wish them well and to encourage them to register with their former school chums on the Newport High School alumni website. The registration will assist members of our class in maintaining accurate contact information for everyone in the event of future "get togethers" and at times when one "old" friend wishes to get in touch with another.
I began my quest to contact all 174 fellow graduating seniors from 1970 with those not already registered on the website in hopes of gathering all stray Pups from our litter back into the kennel. For the past six weeks I have been making phone calls, penning notes and scribbling out emails to these wandering Pups of yore. The mission is far from complete. With the able assistance of Cherry Lou Smith and others, the NHS Class of 1970 now has 156 fellow and former littermates registered on the website at www.nhsalumni.net.
You can look it up! In the number registered there are eight former classmates who did not graduate with the NHS Class of 1970 due to moving away prior to our escape from Remmel Park. We welcome more like these eight. It had been more than 30 years since my last visit with grade school pals Bill Duckworth and George Mark Walden who moved from Newport following the eighth grade and sixth grade, respectively. What fun it was for me in reminiscing and catching up with these "old" friends.
In the conversations I have had with so many of you over the past few weeks, I have discovered a genuine desire in most to reconnect with friends from our school days in Newport. The longer we are separated by time the more difficult it often is to renew contact. Life changes intervene. We move, we marry (many girls change surnames), we have children, we divorce, we change jobs, we remarry (name change again), we experience illness, we move again, we have grandchildren (not me yet - much too young), we lose contact with "old" friends. Life happens!
At the end of each conversation the lyrics "Stay, ahhh just a little bit longer; please, please, please, please, please; Tell me that you're going to" ring out in my mind urging me to continue on talking with this long lost friend with whom I spent precious time as a youth. "Oh won't you stay, just a little bit longer ..."
I found out in my phone calls to the sisters Johnson, Linda and Laura, that classmate Raymond Cameron passed away in March 2002. Raymond and Linda had formerly been married. I regret that I didn't have awareness of Raymond's death until now. This knowledge brings the number of known deceased classmates to nine.
In the midst of my mission I became aware of health issues that several of our classmates have been facing over the course of the last few months. With respect to these health related matters, I ask that ya'll hold close in your heart Mary Wynne Parker, Sharon Stites, Cherry Smith, Diane Madison, Rex Grigsby, Linda Burris, Wilma Wells, Kathy Foley, Bill Don Summers, and Mickey Doyle. Also several classmates have lost parents in the past few months; most recently Rick Dobson's father passed away. I know you will keep Rick and his family in your thoughts and prayers.
In the weeks since our last "visit," a few other names etched in the recesses of my heart have been erased from the list of the living. Ray Fann, a man fully dedicated to scouting and its role in developing young men for life's journey; Melvin Wetherspoon, the first black man on faculty at Newport High School who nurtured the spirit of many students regardless of color; and Macel Tims and Merle Brown Seagraves, two fine ladies from my South Main/South Walnut Streets neighborhood who watched over many mischievous kids. For these four there are memories in the shape of a heart. All have gone on to heaven's reward.
The trail of life is scattered with heartaches and heart breaks. Friendship's reflection can be seen in the shape of a heart, unbroken. In an email I received today from littermate David Reid, he quoted an unknown author who has uttered, "The difficulties of life are intended to make us better, not bitter. Life doesn't do anything to you. It only reveals your spirit." From the recent conversations I have had with many of our mates from the litter of 1970, I can attest that we are a spirited bunch. Much heart abounds in our collective soul.
Missing from the ranks of the 1970 classmates registered on the NHS website along with the nine known deceased are twelve for whom we have no current contact information. If anyone can assist us in finding the whereabouts of these twelve wayward Pups, your efforts will be most appreciated. In searching for the missing Pups, I can't help but think of the story of "101 Dalmatians" with the passage of time being the Cruella Deville who has stolen the Pups away. The names of the lost Pups are Marolyn Anders, Susan Baker, Jetta Bridgeman, Sam Crites, Scotty Crutcher, Terry Freeman, Cecil Gipson, Margaret Holt, Robert James Pawloski, Pam Scroggs, Mary Kathryn Turner and John B. Williams. It is recognized that some names may be different these days. It is also recognized that not everyone from our past wishes to be found.
Lost loves and broken friendships are part of a well traveled life. Some of our most favored friendships lose some of their luster simply due to lack of attention and nourishment. When time and distance separates us from those for whom we have a fondness, the relationship sometimes dims. It's closely akin to fine silver becoming tarnished when not periodically polished. A friend needs an occasional hug to keep the shine alive.
Earlier I mentioned Jackson Browne having done a cover of Maurice Williams' song "Stay," a sentimental favorite tune of mine from the early '60s. Well, I listen to a lot of Jackson Browne's music. From his 1986 album "Lives in the Balance" comes a song entitled "In the Shape of a Heart." It speaks to broken relationships and shattered expectations of love. Some poignant words from this powerful song are:
"People speak of love, don't know what they're thinking of
Wait around for the one who fits just like a glove
Speak in terms of a life and the living
Try to find the word for forgiving."
A word for forgiving is friendship. And friendship is found in the shape of a heart. Simple tools like phone calls and e-mails allow hearts to touch and friendships to flourish. Thinking about matters of the heart, Gene Bennett called me today. Gene and I walked side by side on graduation day at Newport High and lived together during the first semester of our freshman year at the University of Arkansas. He and Shannon Kendrick will be married tomorrow, February 13, 2003 and they will be off to Las Vegas in celebration. I know that you all join me in wishing Gene and Shannon the very best in life and love. In the past, Gene and I have leaned on each other when needed. That's what friends do.
Littermate Rick Brown has wanted to be a pilot for a long time. Rick is taking flying lessons at age 50 to fulfill this life long matter of the heart. Not long ago he was visiting with Ron Broadaway (NHS Class of '56) at the Benton airport. In discussing their respective Newport backgrounds my name surfaced and Ron reconnected us after more than twenty years. Last week Rick called. He flew up to Russellville with his instructor and we enjoyed a visit over lunch. After a lively discussion over who was going to pick up the tab for the lunch, I suggested that we flip a coin for the honors. Imagine that, a game of chance! We reached into our pockets and pulled out identical 1971 silver dollars that we both have obviously carried for a number of years. A magical coincidence! The year those coins were minted marked the first year we were away from the comfortable surroundings of home and Newport High School. We were far from being independent then, but we were just that in our hearts. I look forward to flying with him someday. That's what friends do.
The laughter of my first grade classmates pierces the air as Mrs. Shoffner calmly seeks our attention. My eyes glance around the room. On a bulletin board there are pink and red hearts cut from construction paper just like the ones decorating the shoe box on which my hand rested. A cut out of Cupid drawing his bow is also on the bulletin board. I'm not sure if exchanging Valentines will be as much fun as trading baseball cards. Above the blackboard at the front of the classroom is the alphabet and numbers one through ten. There are posters in the room with profiles of Abraham Lincoln and George Washington cut out from black construction paper. On Mrs. Shoffner's desk is a single red rose bud in a vase and a box of chocolates in the shape of a heart. It's February and we're celebrating birthdays of famous men as well as Valentine's Day. First grade is a lot of fun. I'm making lots of friends. Friends that will last a life time! Valentine's Day is a day to celebrate love. Since I can't be with you all, I'll leave you with a few words from a song entitled "Valentine's Day" written by Steve Earle. He is another troubadour I often listen to with a fine scotch whiskey in hand.
"I ain't got a card to sign
Roses have been hard to find
I only hope that you'll be mine
On Valentine's Day
If I could I would deliver to you
Diamonds and gold; it's the least I can do
So if you'll take my IOU
I could make it up to you
Until then I hope my heart will do
For Valentine's Day"
Hopefully our paths will cross soon. As you are sure to know, I'm still Miles from Nowhere --- only wish I could "stay just a little bit longer ..."
In the heart,
joe
No comments:
Post a Comment