{Prompt: Have you ever lost a meaningful friendship?}
Written in the Stars
Back in tenth grade, in 1979, I learned from a newspaper article that the NC School of Science and Mathematics was accepting applications for interested students who would be living at a residential school during their eleventh and twelfth grade years… for free.
I thought about the possibilities of living on campus in Durham with paid room and board for all of two minutes, thinking of no reason that I shouldn’t apply. And so I did apply.
I gave literally no thought to maintaining ties with my current school and my current friends.
I think, at the time, that the adventure of applying was as enticing as the school itself. I had to get recommendations, fill out application forms, and take the SATs early. It was exciting. My grades weren’t really a problem. They were still very good. Also, I found I would be taking cognitive tests and personal interviews. Even more exciting.
I was ready to leave Raleigh and the little green house on Wayland Drive behind. My father had passed away two years before and my brother had gone off to college. There was no nostalgic ring in the old adage, “There’s no place like home.” At least not for me. I felt more like, “Any place is better than home.” And the prospect of spending both day and night at a shiny new school seemed like heaven.
I was also, at that time, working with my mother to help her complete her morning newspaper route. I was getting up early every day of the week. That was probably the last straw. Although I remember some aspects of the morning route with fondness — the glimmer of sunrise between the pines, the early 1980s “Yacht Rock” on the FM dial, and the warm buttery waffles after completing the route — I remember the drudgery and exhaustion too. The weather could be bitterly cold in the mornings in winter, with the car windows open. I was sometimes hungry… and nauseated from the frequent car turns and the smell of newspaper ink filling the air. I was probably sleep deprived, to judge from the frequency with which I punched the snooze button on my clock radio.
At age fifteen, I would have done just about anything to change what was written in the stars.
Dialogue from A Knight’s Tale
Like Family
Let me go back for just a moment to talk about some of my childhood friends — the ones I left behind.
The first friends that I really remember were my friends from elementary and middle school, from West Raleigh. We were a gang of very well-behaved and studious kids who sat together at the cafeteria tables and shared the contents of our lunch boxes, until that became uncool. When we were older, we sat down with our cafeteria meals atop their brown, prefabricated, plastic cafeteria trays, and we considered the quality of our respective food choices.
Bill Walter (who I had known since kindergarten) was probably the catalyst for this group of friends. He was full of impromptu humor and quick with a smile. He could recite Monty Python sketches at length, and wasn’t the least bit bothered that I had never seen a single sketch. He lived in an old stone house on Cowper Drive, near the Five Points intersection.
His parents once arranged a blindfolded, barefooted experience for our group of friends for a Halloween in the ‘70s, climaxing with us walking onto a tarp covered with the mushy, stringy, pumpkin-seed-riddled innards of their pumpkin, turned Jack-O-Lantern. It was ingeniously and hilariously disgusting. We were fast friends at ten.
A few years later, in junior high, surprisingly, Bill began dating, and even more surprisingly, he introduced his girlfriend to the group. She began to join us at recess and in other gatherings. She would quietly watch, while the boys threw a frisbee, or she would stand on the edges of a conversation, simply listening. Melanie Morrison had bright red hair, and was pretty beautiful by any measure, but was perhaps the most “spiritual”, or “introspective”, of an already pensive group. Bill was probably the least pensive, and most impulsive, in contrast. They made a pretty good couple.
Bill and Melanie at a dance - circa 1979.
I knew Jenny West, about as long as I had known Bill. We gradually advanced through the ranks of our children’s choir at church, up into youth choir, and then into young adult choir (The real names of the ensembles are lost to time.) It seemed like she was the one person in the choir who could truly sing the songs in tune, and because she had talent, the choirmaster eventually roped her into singing solos from the rear balcony during the church offering. I think she would have happily stayed out of the limelight, singing in the chorus, and singing for her own pleasure. Between church and school, I probably knew Jenny better than anyone.
John Matula and Jenny West at a luau/dance - circa 1979.
I met John Dunning and John Matula, probably because they knew Jenny, and they lived in the same neighborhood. “Dunning” had a clever sense of humor that required a bit of thought and reflection. He had wit.
“Matula” was also funny, but in an over-the-top, spontaneous kind of way. “Matula” was from Schenectady, which I knew was a town near Albany, where my father had once lived. He had a bit of that upstate New York sensibility, meaning he just said whatever he was thinking. He was always happy to see me, and he was usually out on the streets of his neighborhood. He was probably happy to see anyone and everyone. I found out later that he was always outside because his house was inhumanly hot. It had been built decades before, and had no air conditioning at all, and little ventilation, making it practically unlivable in the summer.
Stephanie and John Dunning - circa 1980
Sarah Booth was the most bookish of the lot. She was always reading… and frequently writing — come to think of it. She frequently wore a mid-length khaki skirt or pants, and pastel button-down shirts. There was no doubt at the time that she would have a literary career one day.
Stephanie Valachovic was a bit of a wild card. She had long straight hair, a foreign name, and was always flat-out honest. She almost always wore blue jeans and a plaid, flannel shirt.
Charles Alvarez was also an enigma, but he could be every bit as entertaining as the rest. He was sometimes dressed for the ROTC, as he was in the picture below.
Rob Pascale was another friend who sort of flew under the radar. He was part of the pack, but I only remember him as being a persistently friendly and positive person. In fact, everyone in the group was friendly, funny, optimistic, and smart.
We were not a part of the “popular crowd” — rich kids with wealthy parents. But we weren’t particularly poor either. We weren’t from troubled homes or welfare circumstances. In truth, I might have been among the poorest of the group. I certainly was, after my father passed away.
We were tight-knit friends, as I remember us in 10th grade when we were attending Broughton High School together in Raleigh.I took the picture below, in the base of the Broughton clock tower, by putting my SLR camera on the opposite windowsill, and setting the 10 second timer. It was a conspicuous decision — the decision to capture, on film, the faces of my confidantes forever. It glows. It captures their personalities perfectly. I must have known I was heading to NCSSM when I took the picture. Or perhaps it was just pure luck that I got a picture of most of us before I left Raleigh and my childhood friends behind.
These weren’t my only friends in Raleigh, but they were certainly my closest. Ironically, I feel like I really knew very little about their lives — their hopes and dreams. I guess we just accepted each other like family, with no strings attached — a group providing refuge and acceptance amid the chaos and drama of a school with hundreds of others.
L to R: Charles, Bill, Melanie, me, Stephanie, Sara, Jenny, John D.
A Faustian Bargain
And yet, I pretty much cut ties with these—my best friends— when I moved to Durham. I don’t know what I was thinking… perhaps I wasn’t thinking… of the consequences of leaving. I made a Faustian bargain, to leave my past behind, to start anew, to move to the School of Science and Math in 1980. I didn’t know, then, how completely some of these friendships would be lost in the bargain.
As I moved into Wyche House dorm, at the School of Science and Math in September of 1980, I was excitedly inundated by the camaraderie of the students I met. They were from all over the state. We were all in the same boat — all leaving friends behind. They were every bit as quirky and comical as the friends I had before. And I soon had a new group of friends — not sharing a common history but all sharing a common experience.
I found, over time, as I moved from place to place — from school to school — that, each time I moved, I had to let some friends go. We had to go our separate ways. But I would make new friends in a new place, and the balance would be restored.
Still… I made strong friendships at the School of Science and Math — lifelong friends. A few, I kept in touch with in college at NC State (Kim McLauchlin and Karl Garrison, for example) and a few were also at Duke when I started medical school (John Armitage and Shauna Tilley). But essentially our class forged a lifelong bond of friendship in two short years, by living together under intense scrutiny, in a pressure-packed situation. We were, essentially, the first class of a state-sponsored pilot program, whose success or failure depended to a large degree upon our own success or failure.
As close as we were at the time that we matriculated, it was still all too easy to lose touch, as I discovered. As we scattered to the four corners of the universe — to various universities in various states — we frequently lost contact. And some of us moved on to other endeavors, never looking back.
Surprisingly few (in my mind) returned for the reunion 5 years later, and efforts to track down the missing yielded little improvement at subsequent reunions. It seemed as if the absent alumni were happy to remain apart and among the missing. It was just the same as when I had moved on from my childhood friends, a few years before.
Despite the inevitable loss of classmates over time, to attrition or to death, these classmates — my new companions from NCSSM — are still my closest friends. As I grow older and enter retirement, I do my best to foster those friendships that began forty-five years ago.
Sidebar
I did try to keep in touch with some of my old friends, when I moved from Raleigh to Durham, but it was much harder to keep in touch back then. You had to call by phone… or drop by. I would see a few people when I went back to Raleigh, almost by chance. In the end, I saw John Matula the most, as he was always out — out in his neighborhood and up for adventure. I had a moped in the 80s and I would sometimes go up to Five Points, and see the kids in that neck of the woods — so much more interesting than my dull street.
And I saw a girl named Van Dinh Nguyen, who left Vietnam with her family (probably in 1975 after the fall of Saigon), moving to North Carolina. I called her, and tried to arrange some casual get-togethers. I tried to be nonchalant, although in reality, I had a crush on her, and I would have happily abandoned any and all of my plans, commitments, and aspirations for a kiss, or a touch of her hand. Alas… Van Dinh never shared my infatuation, but… still… she did answer her phone when I called. She occasionally went out with me for a meal or a movie, and we stayed friends for many years, and still keep in touch.
Tracking Down Lost Friends
Although I was the first to leave my group of friends in Raleigh, ultimately, all of our paths diverged. Now, Bill is somewhere in California, specializing in the care of honeybees. Jenny is living in Kansas City, Missouri, but her name is Melissa Ramsey now. (She uses her middle name.) Sara is somewhere up north, as is John Dunning, but beyond that, I know nothing. We’ve lost touch. Stephanie is living down east in North Carolina, and volunteering with pet rescue agencies, while Rob is teaching middle school in Chesapeake, Virginia, something I never imagined.
Melanie, tragically, died unexpectedly in 2017, shortly after one of her two beautiful children graduated from NC State University. I learned this through Facebook. From the posts, it seems that most of her friends were shocked by her loss. She was married and working as a food technologist for the Department of Agriculture in Rockville, Maryland, at the time. It all happened before I began to rekindle my connections to my childhood friends.
I got up the gumption to go to a Broughton High School reunion in 2017, 37 years after leaving town, and 35 years after graduating from high school at NCSSM instead. I wanted to see some of the people that knew me a little when I was just a kid from Raleigh, like them. I had a little picnic with Rob Pascale, Charles Alvarez, Melissa “Jenny West” Ramsey, and Van Dinh Carriker, introducing them to my wife, and reintroducing them to myself.
I went to the Broughton reunion, seeing some of those well-off “beautiful” people that I rubbed elbows with in the corridors of education. And I also saw a few members of the percussion section that I played with for one year in the Broughton High School Cavaliers marching band. I saw “Matula” who had become quite a charmer, judging from his flow from one group to another at the party.
I sometimes run into him, in the real world, rummaging through the vinyl record albums at The Readers Corner on Hillsborough Street. We laugh about how things have changed from our childhood. We make chit chat for a while. Then we go our separate ways. We have new friends and families.
The glow of friendship in the clocktower at Broughton is just a memory now. A beautiful memory.
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Appendix I
A chronological listing of some of the interesting people I’ve known. (Underlined names are incommunicado.)
- Friends from Wayland Heights neighborhood: Catherine Gordon (now a pediatrician in Boston), John Preston (now working for Motorola, in Florida, and an avid cyclist), David Siler (now doing something somewhere in eastern NC).
- Friends from Daniels (Jr. High), and Broughton (Sr. High): Bill Walters , Melanie Morrison (passed away, circa 2017), Jenny West, Sarah Booth, John Matula, John Dunning, Stephanie Valachovic, Charles Alvarez, Robert Pascal.
- Friends at NCSSM: Kim McLauchlin (pen pal when I was attending Vanderbilt), Barbara Birdwell (avid photographer, but we lost touch), Teri Buffmeyer (close friend, now living in Calabash, NC), Jeff Parker (close friend, now in Hickory where he runs a factory), John Armitage (soccer teammate who also attended Duke Medical School. Now CEO of “Our Blood Institute” in OKC.) Robert Lee (Super close friend and former roommate, who I see at reunions, now living in Davidson, NC) Many other classmates, who I aspire to see at a dinner party in the future, including Sherri Vasalga, Elizabeth Grainger Paige, et al.
An archival slide of NCSSM students at Halloween - circa 1980
15 intrepid alumni at the 40th - at historic Woolworth’s counter.
- Friend at Vanderbilt: Edmund Rucker (from Paducah, Ky. Now working for the University of Louisville).
- Friends at NCSU: Jane Matthews, (from Mocksville, NC. Worked in textiles in Clarksville, Va., before I lost touch). Nooshin Ansari (my girlfriend in 1984, when she was on exchange from Plymouth Polytechnic University in England - a very serious relationship that I torpedoed. Now living in Queensland, Australia. Srini Iyengar (my closest friend for many years). We gradually drifted apart, but still keep in touch), Robin Davis (was working as a nurse at NC Memorial Hospital when she was dating a mutual friend. She had his baby, but he moved back to Pakistan.) Suzanne Malloy (Another female acquaintance whom I came to know intimately when I returned to NCSU in 1986. Lost touch.)
My girlfriend - Nooshin, Me, Srini, and Jane - circa 1984. Picture by my Mom.
Jane, Me, Nooshin, and Mom circa 1985 in the airport as I departed for South Australia. Picture by Srini.
- Friends at Flinders University: Juliana Teoh Suan, Graeme, Anne McMillan, Amosa, Vincent, et al. (No longer in touch with any of these wonderful people. I’ve pledged to visit Malaysia and Western Samoa some day, because they were so cool.)
Juliana laughing with me on the steps at Flinders University
Juliana (trying to study), Anne (not amused) - circa 1985
- Friends at Lightwater Valley amusement park (all lost)
Two coworkers (in the park overalls) - circa 1986
Another goofy coworker at Lightwater Valley - circa 1985
- Friends at Duke University: Chang Lim (good friend at the time, now no longer in touch), Lisa Gangarosa (now head of the GI department at NC Memorial Hospital), Mary Teresa Amato (recently working in the ED at Duke), Catherine Hren (living close by, but no longer getting together as often)
Chang and me at a fundraiser (he painted the sign)- circa 1988
Some fellow students and I at an intramural event.
- Friends at UNC-CH: Dianne Shihadi (We married.) Steve McNulty (Counting the days to his own resignation from DCRI). Gail Tudor (living in New Hampshire. She had five children.) Most of the others from my department have scattered. Dianne still keeps in touch with some of the Biostatisticians.
- Friends at Residency - Jon Parham, Alana Williams, and others (We follow each other on Facebook.)
- Business friends - Jodi Winkel (We worked together for 12 years at Garner Family Practice and became good friends. We occasionally get together). Coworkers at UNC Family Practice at Fuquay Varina— We almost completely lost touch when I retired, and, worse, the pandemic led to a great deal of self-imposed isolation in 2020-2021.
Volleyball friends in Sanford - Bill & Susan Carter (They divorced and we lost touch.) Jeremy & Candace Pedley (still happily living in Sanford. We are FB friends.)
The winning volleyball team.
Basketball friends in Cary - Mike, Skip, Jim, Dave (most still living in our neighborhood, and keeping in touch, although none of us are still playing basketball, to the best of my knowledge.)
A bunch of family guys that played ball on the cul-de-sac.
Cycling friends - Bob, Dave, Mike K., Karen, Doug, Nancy - taught me everything I needed to know about cycling; Kristy, Scott, Bud, Kerri, Tom - “The usual suspects”; David, Matt, Marc, Rob - We did winter rides together back in 2016; Keith, Will, George - quartet with mutual interests; Leslie & Tim, Sheila & Doug - Wallyworld rides; Gayle, Eric, Darryl, Tom, Rex, Stewart - Havoc rides. The list goes on…
A ride to Devil’s Tramping Ground from Pittsboro - 2024
A ride to Mount Mitchell from Little Switzerland - circa 2015
A winter ride from Holly Springs - circa 2016
-Separate Ways (Worlds Apart) - song by Journey, 1983
Here we stand
Worlds apart, hearts broken in two, two, two
Sleepless nights, losing ground
I’m reachin’ for you, you, you
Feelin’ that it’s gone
Can change your mind
If we can’t go on
To survive the tide, love divides
Someday love will find you
Break those chains that bind you
One night will remind you
How we touched and went our separate ways
If he ever hurts you
True love won’t desert you
You know I still love you
Though we touched and went our separate ways
Troubled times
Caught between confusion and pain, pain, pain
Distant eyes
Promises we made were in vain, in vain, in vain
If you must go, I wish you love
You’ll never walk alone
Take care, my love
Miss you, love
Someday love will find you
Break those chains that bind you
One night will remind you
How we touched and went our separate ways….
Appendix 3
Loving you
Isn’t the right thing to do
How can I ever change things that I feel?
If I could
Baby I’d give you my world
How can I
When you won’t take it from me?
You can go your own way
Go your own way
You can call it another lonely day
You can go your own way
Go your own way
Tell me why
Everything turned around
Packing up
Shacking up’s all you wanna do
If I could
Baby I’d give you my world
Open up
Everything’s waiting for you
You can go your own way
Go your own way
You can call it another lonely day
You can go your own way
Go your own way
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