Blog 8 - 1st Essay, 1st Draft

Essay 1, Draft 1 - Call Me

“Rahway,” the conductor announces as we pull into the station. I usually don’t pay attention to stops if I’m not getting off. Rahway is different. I hear the name of that stop. That town can’t help but remind me of my best friend in high school, Pam. Pam was from Rahway. “Norway?” I asked when I first met her at Sparta High School. She sat behind me in my home room. “No, not Norway - Rahway,” she explained with a smile as if tolerating a moron. She also was new in the school, having just moved from Rahway (not Norway). I had just moved from the Bronx. Who wants to be new in high school. Who wants to move from the Bronx to Sparta, New Jersey. I had never even heard of Sparta or Rahway or Hopatcong, the town to which we just moved for that matter. “Lake popcorn?” people in the Bronx would ask, “Where are you moving to?”

Anyway, I was a junior; Pam was a sophomore. Everyone else at that school knew each other from grade school. I had to come into a new school - wherever the heck it was - leave my normal life in the Bronx and try to make new friends. “I need a favor,” the girl behind me said. I turned around and there she was - a perfect stranger, like everyone else in the classroom. “I don’t have a locker yet and I would like to use yours as I have too much to carry.” I care? I should let her use my locker - and give her my combination? No, not the combination. I’ll let her use my locker (it’s the right thing to do) but not the combination. Maybe being from the Bronx influenced that, or maybe I wouldn’t have given her my combination no matter where I was from. Anyway, this is how we met. Then we exchanged names and where we were from.

We walked out of the classroom together. I sized her up - good, a little heavy, not too perfect. She wasn’t too cool either, which was good because I never was. She crammed her books into my locker as my brother Ken was also sharing it. She put her coat in also.

This is how I met my best friend in high school. Lesson number one - helping someone can lead to a wonderful friendship. Also, being untrusting can lead to a wonderful friendship. We had to connect every time she wanted to use the locker - not having the combination and all. So we saw each other all the time. This went on for months as the school really didn’t have enough lockers.

* * *

I felt someone poking me under my right shoulder blade. Pam, of course. Remember, she sat behind me. I turned around. “You’d never guess what happened last night.” Surely this was another story about her sister. Linda was a trip. She was older, drove a car already (an old one for that matter that always broke down), and always did crazy things. This time she broke down on the railroad tracks. Was the train coming? No. That would be too much drama. But her sister did leave the car on the tracks to get her father (as this was before cell phones) who had to come and get the car off the tracks before the train came. I got all the details from Pam. I can’t remember them now, 40 years later. But what I remember was Pam’s mischievous smile. She would have loved to have been responsible for this devilment if she could have arranged it. Our home room teacher took attendance and made announcements while Pam told these stories. Pam had a new story every morning, she never had to repeat any because her sister did crazy things all the time.

From these stories, I felt as if I knew her whole family. She had a younger brother Bryant who was in junior high, parents and a grandmother, and of course, Linda. When I did finally meet them all (except the grandmother who died), they were just like she had described.

Junior year was as expected with the requisite new-kid-in-high-school stress. Of course, I was also experiencing culture shock. In the Bronx, I took the subway to school. Here, I took the “School Bus.” Yes, it was yellow with “School Bus” written across the front. It helped that my brother Ken also went to the same school and we could make fun of the bus together. It came to a corner near where we lived. There were no sidewalks, no traffic lights and no pedestrians. We just stood in the road waiting for the “School Bus” as there was not very much traffic anyway. Pam came from a different town, so we met her every morning at my locker.

Pam certainly wasn’t like the city kids I used to know. She was naive in her own way, and very quiet. She was a gentle soul. I would meet her for lunch and otherwise throughout the day. The only class we had together though was geometry, the first class of the day, which is why we had home room together. She provided a certain stability in my life which was important being alcoholism with its chaos and insanity ruled my home life. It was important to me having someone close who was emotionally consistent.

The following year we each had more friends. She had Kathy. I had Helen, Karin and even a boyfriend Tom. My brother attended a different school. I missed him. However, I was getting comfortable at this new school in this new town in this new state. I could share anything with Pam, and Pam shared everything with me. I graduated and got a job at the phone company.

Of course, Pam and I kept in touch. I remember visiting her in the summer and going out on the lake in her boat. She lived on Cranbury Lake in the nearby town of Byrum. This was a little different from walking along the Bronx River, or on it when it was frozen or not frozen enough, which is why I once fell in. I remember visiting her once with Tom and on another occasion going Christmas shopping with her. Of course, when the time came she invited me to her graduation.

This was the last time I would see her, but there was no way I possibly could have known that. She made sure I had a ticket, and I made sure I was on time. I met up with her family at the stadium. She graduated, and we went to the White Elephant, a restaurant in her home town. She was delighted I could come, and I was delighted I could be there. Besides her parents, brother, sister, and me, her new boyfriend Andy was there. I met him for the first time. I already knew she loved him, but seeing them both together made it clear that they loved each other very much. I figured that this was the real thing and was wondering when they would marry.

There was something surreal about that evening. Her sister agreed with that later. I remember when we were saying goodbye it was as if Pam didn’t want to leave me. Everyone was already in their cars, I was in mine, and she wouldn’t leave my window although she really didn‘t have anything more to say. I remember when I was getting into the car and giving her a hug I thought I should tell her that I loved her but we just never did that.

Life went on - for the next 10 days. I went to work and then went out with Ken and my neighborhood friends after work. My mother told me that Pam called a couple of times, but always when I was on my way out the door to go into a waiting car. Then afterwards I would forget. I wasn’t in the habit of making notes to myself like I do now. Also, I don’t know that I realized it was important to call people back right away. Lesson number two - call people back right away. But most importantly, I always thought she would be there.

About a week and a half after Pam’s graduation, I came home from work. It was a Friday and I was beginning a two-week vacation. It was the Fourth of July weekend. I was making myself bacon and eggs for dinner. I was standing at the stove when Ken came out to me while reading a newspaper and shacking. “Isn’t this your friend Pam?” he asked knowing the answer. I screamed! One of my brothers thought I had burned myself on the stove. I couldn’t believe it. It read, “Girl Killed in Crash.” Andy had been driving. They were coming home from his house the night before, he had been drinking although he said that was not a factor, had crossed over the yellow line, although he said he only went over about a foot, tried to correct it by turning the wheel but got hit on the front driver’s side anyway. It was the other driver’s fault Andy said because the other driver hit him. Pam was not wearing her seat belt, although Andy said that that didn’t matter as he held her tight. I was furious with Andy although I knew Pam would not have wanted me to be. He lived, having been extricated from the car. She died of a ruptured spleen while being admitted to the hospital. The ambulance squad said afterward that she had asked for her mother.

And there you have it. Just like that she was gone.

My body still reacts to her sudden, violent death. I was taken completely off guard. They say that people die the way they lived. Well this was a little too dramatic for Pam. It really didn’t fit her.

I feel angry that her death was more powerful than her life. I feel gypped that the first thing I think of when I think of her is how she was killed. Her life and our friendship was easy, but her death was traumatic and harsh. I wanted to be able to speak to her about her accident. I couldn’t call her. It was as if I kept expecting her to call me and say, “Guess what happened to me the other night. I got killed in a car accident,” and proceed to tell me every detail. I felt so cut off from her. She was just gone. I wondered what she wanted when she last called. It is a luxury to reflect on one’s life. She didn’t have that opportunity, and I didn‘t have that opportunity with her. I felt jolted by her accident. I wondered what it was like to be jolted to death. It was such an abrupt ending.

I remember the man I met on the way to her wake. It was Sunday (the Fourth of July) and I had to drive to Newton, a town I didn’t know very well. I had to find High Street. I cried the whole way which took awhile being I had been stuck in the Pocono’s holiday traffic. I stopped to ask someone directions. He was elderly and sitting on his porch. He was so relaxed. I wonder if he was placed there just to comfort me. I asked him where High Street was. He told me and then asked if I was going to the hospital or the funeral home. When I told him he said that that was too bad because from the hospital you come out and from the funeral home you don’t. I proceeded to tell him what happened and he listened. He was kind. I was devastated. Later that week, I did see Andy in the hospital. He came out of the hospital like the man said and went on with his life. I understand he married soon afterward.

That week my friend Helen called. She said she found out at her job that Pam had been killed. She worked at the hospital, was one of Andy’s nurses and saw Pam’s picture on his table. She summed it up for me. She kept saying, “You loved her! You loved her!” She helped me put into words what I was feeling. I missed Pam terribly and still do.

The train pulls into the station, my station, Dunellen. I get off and begin the short walk home. One thing I know I will do when I get home is call my friend Rose back.