"....maybe if I get this down I'll get it off my mind..."-Amy Winehouse
If I were to step back, I would realize that I am at the age where the losses now are not always of people much older than me.
If I were to step out of myself, I would read the poignant and beautiful tributes on what is now the "Remembering" Facebook page and be happy to see the legion of lives that were touched and changed by someone's presence.
If I were to really pay attention, I would have known that when my crown opened two days ago and you came floating into it that you were saying goodbye.
In August of 1997, I was finishing my second summer as a desk attendant at the Rice University Graduate House. For those who do not remember the "old" Graduate House, it was located at the corner of Main Street and University Boulevard in Houston in what was the Tidelands Motor Inn. How many friendships formed at the pool (yes, we had a 1950s swimming pool!) I cannot even imagine, but there are incredible memories of that place.
A part of my summer duties included finalizing room reservations for incoming students, and I to this day distinctly remember seeing a reservation made by an incoming student from Boiling Springs, South Carolina.
How I remember that one with all of the incomings (the old graduate house was also the place where many internationals lived when coming to Houston for the ESL program), I have no idea: what I do remember is her walking in with her father for check-in and her amazement when I said "YES! You're Betsy Mullins from Boiling Springs!"
I think she was caught off-guard, because she smiled - and laughed.
That laugh...one of the most infectious and joyous laughs I have ever heard.
"You know Boiling Springs?!" she asked.
"Certainly - I'm from Charleston!"
Needless to say, we became friends on THAT day, and I'm grateful to know that ours was a friendship that lasted for twenty-one years.
Today I had the opportunity to speak with another friend made during the old Graduate House days. THIS one: she was to be my neighbor during the second year of my graduate studies, and I immediately took the moment to meet her.
If I were to step back, I would realize that I am at the age where the losses now are not always of people much older than me.
If I were to step out of myself, I would read the poignant and beautiful tributes on what is now the "Remembering" Facebook page and be happy to see the legion of lives that were touched and changed by someone's presence.
If I were to really pay attention, I would have known that when my crown opened two days ago and you came floating into it that you were saying goodbye.
In August of 1997, I was finishing my second summer as a desk attendant at the Rice University Graduate House. For those who do not remember the "old" Graduate House, it was located at the corner of Main Street and University Boulevard in Houston in what was the Tidelands Motor Inn. How many friendships formed at the pool (yes, we had a 1950s swimming pool!) I cannot even imagine, but there are incredible memories of that place.
A part of my summer duties included finalizing room reservations for incoming students, and I to this day distinctly remember seeing a reservation made by an incoming student from Boiling Springs, South Carolina.
How I remember that one with all of the incomings (the old graduate house was also the place where many internationals lived when coming to Houston for the ESL program), I have no idea: what I do remember is her walking in with her father for check-in and her amazement when I said "YES! You're Betsy Mullins from Boiling Springs!"
I think she was caught off-guard, because she smiled - and laughed.
That laugh...one of the most infectious and joyous laughs I have ever heard.
"You know Boiling Springs?!" she asked.
"Certainly - I'm from Charleston!"
Needless to say, we became friends on THAT day, and I'm grateful to know that ours was a friendship that lasted for twenty-one years.
Today I had the opportunity to speak with another friend made during the old Graduate House days. THIS one: she was to be my neighbor during the second year of my graduate studies, and I immediately took the moment to meet her.
"HI! I'm Samuel, your next door neighbor. Welcome! Sometimes I practice in my room, and I hope that won't bother you."
Again, a disarmed smile and a laugh. Another laugh that I remember.
SO...Susan Hurley, Betsy and I became in some ways the "Three Musketeers", and this joining included one night at the end of the fall '97 semester on which Susan and I kidnapped Betsy.
Yes - kidnapped, but with love.
Yes - kidnapped, but with love.
If memory serves me, the transition to a new city had resulted in some stresses for our dear Betsy (as that transition does for all of us), and one Friday night (this was all planned, of course), Susan and I met Betsy with a blindfold and said, "Be quiet, and come with us". Fortunately, the relationships that had developed alleviated all fear, and Betsy joyfully played along as we blindfolded her, put her in the back seat of Susan's car, and drove her to Bookstop. Housed in the old Alabama Theatre which was located in a strip mall on the corner of Shepherd and Alabama, Bookstop was a wonder, a perfect gem, and the ideal place for an escape from the pressures of the pressure cooker that was (and probably still IS) Rice University.
So we drove, got out of the car (Betsy still blindfolded), and took her into the store, gently guiding her to the balcony space which had become the location of all of the coffee table books that we all love. This WAS the 90s, so Peter Lindbergh's Ten Women, Arthur Elgort's Model's Manual and a host of other hardcopies were on the shelves. There was also a coffeeshop in the balcony space, and the owners understood that while there were two classes: the consumers, and those who wanted to dream, which meant that there was no problem with taking a stack of magazines and books to a table with a cappuccino. HOW many hours....another friend remembers this as that one (neither Susan nor Betsy) was the person who introduced me to the joy of taking a September or March day and gathering all of the HUGE international fashion magazines and a few books, buying a coffee and scone, and sitting to marvel at international creativity.
When we took the blindfold off, this is what Betsy saw....and the three of us had a moment...
No comments:
Post a Comment