Happy Birthday, Gary
Old friends are a treasure that some do not have in abundance. I am not one of those. In the 1960’s we lived on Nichols Street. The house sat on one lot, and the lot next door on the corner of Warren Ave. also belonged to Dad and Mom. To the east on Nichols was Rick. Rob lived on West Ave. Frank and Gary lived north on Warren. I’ve lost track of all of them except for the last. Over the last several years, I have tried to call him on his birthday. This year, I am going to write about some of our joint experiences.
I could call him a hand-me-down friend, but I prefer the terms longtime family friend or brother from a different mother. Gary started school at York Elementary, the same year my brother Sam did. Four years later, when I began my education there, they did not want a kid like me hanging around. When my brother graduated from high school and joined the Navy, the process of being a family friend had already started.
We attended the same church, and when I was in the Youth group, he was in High School and graduated the year I finished Junior High. He took a year away from SMSU and his degree to join the National Guard to begin his military career. He returned as a part-time student and was there when my college career began four years after he started.
Lunch at the cafeteria, or Bear’s Den, bowling, and pinball games at the campus union solidified this friendship between my brother Bud, Gary, and me. If it had not been for him bringing the new pastor at church to meet me and invite me to a group for college students, I might not have been called and accepted my call to ministry. Because of that, I left SMSU and transferred to Southwest Baptist College.
As a side note, Gary’s first nephew was born on my sixteenth birthday, the day before his. I don’t know if I have been forgiven for the ribbing I gave him about that. He may not know it, but one of my daughters was born in August. Fortunately, she came before either of our birthdays. I was glad because I didn’t want the teasing I gave him.
Gary graduated and was promoted and moved by the company he worked for. We saw each other briefly at Christmas. When Sam went back to the Navy, he drove to visit Gary up north and through Pennsylvania to see me where I was pastoring a church that summer, and then down to his duty station in Florida.
The next phase of our relationship was when he returned to Springfield and began working where Cindy, my wife, worked. I remember the night he came by our house and told us he had been terminated. That was when he started dating his future wife, who also worked there.
He raised his family, and I mine these last forty years, and we have talked from time to time. Some special occasions brought us together. Birthdays, anniversaries, funerals, and even the occasional Walmart trips meant short or protracted conversations.
He is still employed, unlike Cindy and I. From time to time, I visit him at work, as I did when I was working, and he is someone I can confide in and share memories with him that no one else knows about.
We can truly be called old friends in more ways than one. This is my way of saying, Happy Birthday to you, my dear friend. And many more.
©Copyright 2025 by Charles Kensinger
