Old Friends, Roger, Hal & Joe

By Allen Kazmerski

As high school and college graduation comes and goes, and careers take off, friendships often fall victim to good intentions. We’ll think of those dear old friends and tell ourselves we’ll call them next week. Or we’ll reply to them when things calm down. Yet weeks turn into years, and meaningful relationships quietly drift into the background of our lives. Those friends that were such a big part of our lives- well, they were like a beloved book, but we’ve turned the page on them.

My life today is better because of Roger and Hal and Joe.

Roger Klimek and I are the same age, and grew up living next door to each other. 59 Church Street and 61 Church Street. We learned to walk, played catch and learned to ride our bikes in our shared driveway. Collected chestnuts, fought with imaginary swords, and blazed away at each other with our cap pistols while playing in the backyard of the Gilbert’s Mansion, which boarded our properties. We hid on the steps at Lock 17 and aimed our pea shooters at passing yachts. He’d stay over at my parents camp and we’d shoot our BB guns at any small reptile that dared look our way, played cards in his grandfathers garage attic and played sandlot baseball games at the Church Street School baseball field – every morning, afternoon and evening in the summer. We attended the same elementary school and covered our heads in the stairwell during air-raid drills. In high school we took Spanish classes together and played on the varsity basketball team. We have memories of the same cowboy and war movies seen at the Rialto Theatre and those competitive basketball games at the YMCA. Roger played the double bass and I played the trumpet and we formed two fifths of the “famed” area Polka Dot Band. We wandered the pot
holes, the bars of Little Falls, got degrees, found good careers, and forged a strong friendship. We too eventually fell out of touch, for many years, but rekindled the friendship years ago when he came back to Little Falls for his mother’s funeral. We’ve been to his home in Rochester many times. He has treated us to his condo in Newport, Rhode Island several times, one of our favorite cities. He and his wife Linda frequently spend weekends with us. We’ve been texting weekly, if not daily ever since, sharing memories and stories only we can relate to.

Hal Ferguson was a college friend who I missed – for decades – and I meant to follow up with him. His sense of humor, quick wit and quicker laugh made him fun to be around. Hal took the initiative and recently contacted me. He’s well and retired in Florida. Hal was a terrific athlete – basketball, softball, golf, even pool and ping pong. Some people are gifted that way. We played two on two basketball in his grandmother’s driveway. We were very competitive and matched pretty evenly. I drove to the basket on Hal. He hip checked me and I landed in his grandmother’s rose bushes. I’m still picking out the thorns. He’ll remind me of that quite frequently – we both have a good laugh – but his laugh goes on a little longer….. After college we played in the very competitive “Suicide League” at the local Nights of Columbus facility in Utica. I had a couple of stellar games and was named “Player of the Week”. The next week my teammate Hal had the stellar games and was named “ Player of the Week”. On the intramural football team I was QB and Hal was our main receiver. I tried to lead him near some rose bushes…..

Hal was always a big fan of the Beach Boys and the 50s and 60s music. He introduced me to the haunting song “Image of a Girl” and it’s still a favorite of mine. It was inevitable that he told me he owned an old jukebox filled with those oldie classics. We’ve been texting frequently and we recently got together at our house with his wife Theresa when he visited relatives in Utica. It was the first time we saw each other in over 50 years. It was like we had never lost touch, the easy smiles came, and the old stories rolled out. Hal worked hard and was successful, which allowed him to retire at 53 – and to work on his golf game. He invited us to his home in The Villages in Florida. Geri and I plan to go.

Joe DeFilipo was a close college friend. One of those people in your life that just gets you, and you’re comfortable to be around. From Boston, Joe had the classic Boston accent – there was no “R” in his alphabet and he’d tell me, “Al, I’ll be back after I pahk the cah, then we’ll get a few bee-uhz.” His big unrestrained boisterous laugh often brought friends to tears. He was a lifetime big Boston Celtics fan. He had been to the Boston Garden numerous times. I was a big Celtic fan, always wanted to go to the Garden, never made it. I still have vivid memories of those nights in 1968 and 1969 where Joe and I sat in front of the tv screaming at Johnny Havlicek and the Boston Celtics to beat those LA Lakers. Which they did. The glow lasted for a week. Joe and I dated the same girl – at the same time – alas, she chose Joe. We went to the 3 day West Palm Beach Music Festival and saw the Rolling Stones, Janis Joplin, Iron Butterfly, Jefferson Airplane, The Byrds and dozens more. Once every month, on a
Sunday, Joe and our roommates would tidy up, put on a tie and drive to the same restaurant in Dania Beach, Florida, and we’d all order lasagna. Joe said, while grinning, “we had to look like big shawts (shots), if we wanted to be big shawts.” Joe was a big fan of the great singer Judy Garland. In the era of the Beach Boy’s, Beatles and Rolling Stones, I’d walk into Joe’s apartment and he would be spinning a Judy Garland standard like “Rock a Bye Your Baby, with a Dixie Melody.” I still have that tune on my “best of” list that I occasionally listen to. Joe and I had kept in touch off and on through the years, and then – well I guess life got in the way. About 5 years ago I heard Judy Garland on the radio singing you know what. I decided to call Joe. The old phone number of his was not in service. I called a few of the DeFilipos listed in the Boston area and finally got ahold of his aunt. She told me Joe had passed away a few years ago.

My life today is better because of Roger and Hal and Joe. They are a living bridge to who you were, and a reminder of who you still are, beneath the noise of adulthood. Those old friendships are valuable assets. You know they are. You too have wonderful friends you haven’t talked to in years. So, find that list of old dear friends that are currently in the “lost” department – reach out to them, and change their status to the “lost and found” department. And do it before the days go by and the weeks rush on. Roger and Hal and I can meet up with each other again. For Joe and I,…..well, reach out today for that old friend, as tomorrow you may find, as I did, that Joe will never answer the call. Then you too will experience the ache of a call made too late.

Roger and Hal both gave permission to use their full names. Joe won’t mind.