by John Leavitt
Bear with me as my memory is not as blessed as it once was, having just turned a deck of cards and a joker (53). As I sit here trying to figure out how to tell you about a friendship that started over 40 years ago, a tear or two starts to fall. I have cursed and yet feel blessed to know this man for that long of time. How can a friendship be cursed and still be a friendship? Let’s get the cursed part out of the way first. I was told that I was tied to my bike as a kid by the neighborhood friend I speak about and others, then sent down a small hill to crash in the ditch — I vaguely remember it.
Another time said neighbor and I were fishing the Sol Duc River with his family’s tiny black dog by his side. It was winter and icy out and I remember having a hard time standing as it was and I already was freezing when this little dog named Twinkie weighing in at maybe 10 pounds came sliding down the ice on the bank and slid right into me. Yes you guessed it, little Twinkie became a bowling ball and knocked me into the cold river —needless to say it cut our day short. OK, my friends that knew me back then, you can stop laughing now as I know you’re thinking it didn’t have to be icy out or a dog John, for you to fall down.