If you are fortunate to have a friend like Tom, you know the feeling. Despite the years and distance, you pick up right where you left off, and you have to pinch yourself and ask, as in this case, has it really been more than 40 years since the 2 a.m. runs to the original Coney Island in New Castle?
I ran into Rick the other day while I had stopped to see Judi Pendel at Farrell High, and told him that Tom was planning on a visit to the area for the holidays, and that a trip to Coney Island was in the offing.
“You know where to find me,” Rick said, reminiscent of when we eagerly filled an RA’s car in the middle of the night for dogs and beers (we weren’t of age, but most times got served).
When I think about lifelong friends like Tom - Paul Esmond and Lynn and Paul Saternow among them - I think about Ed, who died several years ago, and that conversation near the butcher’s block in his store on George Street in the late 60s.
Turns out my old boss was right about life, and when I reflect on my association with him, he usually always was.
Jim Raykie is the editor of The Herald and writes this column on Mondays. His email is email@example.com