When Barbara came to the little city

Greetings to all, and welcome my new visitors to the East Wing.

A few weeks ago I mentioned the importance of having friends. Not that ya need a lot, one or two, or three is plenty. Friendship is measured in quality not quantity. I have such a friend. It’s a girl friend. Not my wife, not my sisters, not my mother, not the girl dogs and not even Sophia the Cat, it’s the other Barbara in my life.

Everyone knows, about our relationship, my wife knows, my family knows, Barbara’s husband knows, Barbara’s family knows, and they all approve. We make no effort to hide our friendship from prying eyes and open ears, I have never slinked off in the dark of night to slip up to Green Bay WI for a quickie meeting with the Barbara like a South Carolina Governor.

I talk to her all the time, email, telephone any time I want, as does she to me, all the time, but we don’t text or twitter. (yet) To understand this strange and out of the ordinary behavior by what seems to be two fairly well adjusted adults ya just gotta go back in time to hear the rest of the story.

First laid eyes on Barbara at one of the most freighting moments of my life. It early on that first morning of the first day when for the first time ever I was to enter the North Judson High School.

Ye see back then there was no such thing as freshman orientation to acclimate the new students to the surroundings. Just throw em to the wolves. It was kinda sink or swim, now I can’t swim and I was sinking.

I'd been delivered to the front entrance of the North Judson High School by a vehicle which by today’s students is referred to as the Rolling Twinkly, Then we just called it the bus from California Township. The dis embankment from that bus was truly a life changing event. No sooner had the bus stopped when 47 kids all tried to get out the front door at the same time. One of the older boys opened the back emergency door and they started piling out the backside as well as the front, all the while the bus driver is yelling profanities to the big boys who opened the back door.

Fearing for my life, I stayed in my seat for a few minutes, cause I didn’t know what to do when I got off the bus anyway. As the human traffic jam dispersed, I got up walked to the front of the bus, walked down the steps and onto the sidewalk and property of the North Judson High School.

I had stepped into what could only be perceived as mass pandemonium. People running in every direction, big kids, little kids, adults, and everything in between. It seemed they were all carrying stuff and they all knew where they were going. They did, I did not. I had no idea in the whole world where to go, or what to do and I was not carrying any stuff.

Now being a kid raised in Downtown Toto and not being accustom to life in a big city, as it was being played out before my very eyes, I was soon conquered by an overwhelming desire to flee. To run, to run away, to run to anywhere just to get away from where I was, to run home, to run back to the safety and comfort of Downtown Toto, where everybody knew my name.

Spying and old school bell mounted on a three foot high concrete base, on the south side of the main entrance to the high school building, I walked over, touched the metal, and stood by the old bell, out of the traffic, out of danger. This old bell, which had been left as a commemorative symbol of a long forgotten class of students that had come this way in the mist of school days past, was my life raft that frightful day. Had I not found this place of refuge, my security blanket, outside the dangerous traffic jam swirling around me that early September morning, the day after Labor Day 1958, I would have never met the Barbara. I would have run back to Toto and would have continued to carry on the grand tradition of hillbillies quitting school in the 8th grade. For me, that option was not to be, but it came so, so close.

In bright sunshine that September Tuesday Morning, I felt as if I was standing fully within the shadow of the valley of death. I could feel the cold. Uncontrollable fear was winning the war within my mind.

Still contemplating what to do and trying to control my desire to run all at the same time, suddenly the only thing I can see is this little blond girl in my face saying “Are you a freshman?” I didn’t know if I was on not, but I said “Yes”. She said “Me Too, what’s your name?” “Bob” “My name’s Barbara” she said. “Are you afraid?” “Yes” I said. “Me too” she said as she put her hand in mine, squeezed and said “let’s go see what’s inside”.

As Barbara pulled on my hand I gave up my security blanket, the old bell, and any thoughts of running away. On a warm, sunny September Morning 1958, hand in hand Barbara and I walked toward the building and stepped into freshmanship as we went to high school that day. And I’ve loved her ever since.

In school, Barbara had girlfriends and boyfriends and so did I, but everybody knew that me and Barbara were different than girlfriends and boyfriends, we just were, we still are. And will forever be. I think I might've been the first real hillbilly she ever saw, but I’m not sure about that. She may have seen some half hillbillies but that wouldn’t count. One thing I do know, Barbara is definitely not a hillbilly. I still don’t know what she is, and I’m afraid to guess, but not hillbilly that’s for sure.

High School with Barbara was fun, always, after high school has been even more fun. We did a lot of crazy fun kid stuff in high school, and have done even more crazy fun kid stuff after high school.

Both Barbara and I were model students throughout high school. In fact both the teaching staff as well as the administration on more than one occasion pointed us out as examples for other students.

I recall one winter morning when we hastily arranged a full student body walkout at 10:30 that same morning. The walkout was 99% successful. It was kinda like a wildcat strike in a labor union, only it’s kids at high school. We negotiated with the Principal on some issues, boy was he ever mad! Started to yell and everything. Talked about expelling people from school for the rest of their life, and stuff like that, till I told him nobody would go back in the school till we said so. He stopped yelling and then we talked about some things that made us mad, and when that all got straightened out, everybody went back to school. Nobody got expelled but that principal sure looked at me mean for a long time. I think Barbara sucked up to the principal so he wouldn’t be mad at her, just me.

With Barbara there have been times of great fun as well as times of great sadness. We have laughed together and cried together. We have made fun of each other and of others. We took an oath a long time ago not to ever get old, and we have not, at least in the presence of each other.

Those that know us understand our friendship, and enjoy watching it play out like the Saturday Afternoon Serials shown at the Gable Theater when we were kids. Those that don’t know us think we are crazy, and maybe we are is a special way, but don’t you wish you had a friend like Barbara?

Thank you so much for stopping by the Sunday Evening. I’m so glad you could meet my friend.

Once again nighttime has come to yet another beautiful Sunday Evening. All is well in my world with the 2dogs, 1cat, 1wife, 1Angel as well as Angel’s mother, Mama Cass fast asleep. Visions of sugar plums, or is that just for Christmas sleeping?

This summer night is totally saturated with peace and tranquility. I look forward to such Sunday Nights, this beautiful sound of silence.

Stay Safe in Baghdad and Afghanistan.

From the East Wing when Barbara came to visit
I wish you well
BobbyRay