Tommy G.

This is a photo of my 10th birthday in 1963. That’s me in the middle, bottom row. The kid to my left was my best friend, Tommy G. We were more like brothers than friends and neighbors. In my book Storyteller, I wrote a chapter about Tommy, and how brokenhearted I was when he moved in 1965. I have not seen or spoken to him since that August 1965 evening before he left. I recently got his address (he’s in Pennsylvania now), and I sent him a copy of my book. I figured if he is in it, he needs a copy. I got his telephone number today, and I called him. When he answered, I said, “Can Tommy come out and play?” Within a minute, I told him he sounded just like he did 60 years ago. He said, “Well, you hadn’t gone through puberty yet, so you sound different.” So many parallels in our life: both struggled in math; both had one child, a son; both became teachers later in life. Several others. He is taking notes as he reads the book, and wants to discuss or ask questions of me. We promised to continue the conversation. What a blessing this was today.