Catching up with a High School Friend

I was minding my own business when I got a text from a friend I hadn't seen in 20 years. Chris told me he was in town for a few days, and he thought it would be a great idea if we were able to meet up for a beer or two. Great minds thinking alike, I naturally agreed with him.

The New Kid in Class

I met Chris one day in religion class at my alma mater, Bishop Fenwick High School. He was "the new kid". I don't know how he ended up being transferred to my class. It was winter, months into the school year, but here he was. I still remember that day. I got to class and sat down. I exchanged greetings with someone who sat near me. That was when I noticed him sitting in the back of the room. The guy I asked shrugged his shoulders, and we agreed he was probably someone who was making up a test in another class.

My teacher, Ms. Bertrand, came into the class. She saw Chris and was surprised.

"Oh," Ms. Bertrand said. "You're here today."

"Yes," he said. "I am." That was when Chris was formally introduced to the class.

A couple of days later, I decided to introduce myself. I'm still not sure why I did, but I did. We talked for a little before I needed to take my seat.

We Started to Talk

Weeks turned into months, and we spoke occasionally during the few free minutes we had before class started. One day, Ms. Bertrand decided the room needed to be cleaned. All of the students emptied the trash from their desks. Ms. Bertrand went around the room with a push broom, cleaning up what was on the floor. I found a recent copy of the sports section. It was great for me to find a link to the outside world. I turned to the standings page to see where the Bruins were in the division. They were doing well at the time, but there was room for improvement, of course. Chris saw me with the sports section, and he asked if he could take a look at it with me. We both looked over the standings and other statistics, seeing who the scoring leaders were. We looked at the basketball news, but the Celtics weren't very good then, so it was mostly about hockey and the Bruins for us on that day.

Not much else happened beyond talking about sports until one day, Chris mentioned that he liked the group, Genesis. I also liked Genesis, and we got to talking a little about the band. It was something else we could talk about, and it was great to see we had still something else in common.

Sophomore Year, Homeroom Period

I survived my freshman year and spent my summer vacation with well-earned video games and bicycle rides. I enjoyed my time away from school just like every other teenager on this planet.

I found a recent copy of the sports section. It was great for me to find a link to the outside world.

Alas, summer vacation gave way to the drab and dreary routine of school days. I trudged into school and found my homeroom, room 215. This was where I was to start every day, sitting through morning announcements. I noticed Chris was also in the homeroom. I thought this was cool. We had talked a little during freshman year, so I knew he was alright, and talking to him made the mornings a little less painful.

Fast forward a couple of months, and we exchanged numbers one Friday night. Neither of us had anything happening, so why not kill time and shoot the breeze a little. We did just that.

We talked at night, during the weekend. We talked when God saw fit to bless us with a snow day. We survived the winter. The weather got warmer. It was baseball season. We shared what we read in the newspaper in case one missed the latest news with the Red Sox.

We all survived the school year, and we were thrilled to be off for a few months. We talked in the morning. It was a lot more fun to talk form the comfort of my phone while sipping coffee than to talk while being held down by The Man in homeroom. We hung out a couple of times, shooting hoops and playing video games. Important stuff.

Junior Year

"Up in the mornin', and out to school
The teacher is teachin' the Golden Rule
American History and practical math
You're studying hard and hopin' to pass" - Chuck Berry, "School Days"

Summer came and went. School bells rang and we were back in class. I was at lunch period looking for a seat when I heard my name called. It was Chris. We ate our lunch together all year and did the same our senior year. All the while, there was talk of school, classes. sports. Chris made the baseball team. I got cut, a conspiracy that is a story in its own. I'm not saying Chris had a part in that injustice. He didn't, but he knew the people involved just as well as I did.

Not only did Chris play baseball, but he also ran cross-country. Better him than me. I'm excited when I break the 8-minute mile. Sports aside, I had other things to keep myself busy. I scored a part in the school musical. That kept my busy enough. When the show was over, I went back to my diligent studies. Junior year ended. The year was over, we survived.

Senior Year and Beyond

As much fun as it had been in high school, I was happy to get out.

The summer after my junior year was unlike any other. I got a job. Days that had been spent riding my bike and playing video games were now spent toiling on hotel grounds cutting grass, sweeping walkways and picking up trash.

(L to R) Scott Sutera, me, Chris.
 Senior Prom, 1995

I was back to school senior year. The last year of high school. Chris and I did the same thing. We ate lunch, talked at night and during the weekends. High school was coming to an end. As much fun as it had been in high school, I was happy to get out.

Like a lot of other teenagers when the school year ends, I went back to work. I was washing dishes at a restaurant while Chris was working for a landscaper. It was the same as the previous year. Calling each other when we could and hanging out if/when we could find the time. It was tough. It's not like we had all day throughout the summer to shoot the breeze and maybe hang out.

The world would be a lot better if people just listened to what we had to say.

Summer turned into the fall, and I was ready for my first day as a college freshman. Not long after the first day of classes, we talked on the phone and talked about how high school had prepared us for what we were doing in college. Begrudgingly, we admitted out teachers did a good job and maybe, just maybe, they were right about a few things.

We talked about college. We talked about our jobs. We talked about girls. In two very special cases, two girls came into our lives and became our wives. We talked about our progression through college and moving into the real world. We connected when we could, meeting up at sports venues and bars. Instead of discussing sports and classes at lunch period at Fenwick, we were sipping beers and talking about college or jobs. Life was changing, but one thing stayed the same. The world would be a lot better if people just listened to what we had to say.

Chris Moved to Texas, and Other Changes

(L to R) Chris, "Big Dave, me. January 1996

Chris moved away, eventually settling in the great state of Texas. I remained in Massachusetts, home of cold winters and bad drivers. We kept touch when we could and shared stories and news of our lives. I learned Chris' dad passed away. This was sad news for me. I loved seeing "Big Dave" and he enjoyed offering me a frosty glass of "Shut your Mouth" when he deemed it necessary. I offered my sage advice whenever I deemed it necessary, including backseat driving advice when he was trying to negotiate the streets of Boston. I think he just took everything under advisement. When news reached about his crossing to the other side, I offered my condolences.

We watched our children grow up. Chris' eldest went through high school, just like her dad. It was time for her to consider colleges. I secretly hoped there would be some Massachusetts schools on her radar. Alas, she decided to stay in the Lone Star State. I let him know I was hoping he and his family would have a reason to head north.

Unfortunately, there was a reason for him to come to Massachusetts. Chris' family had suffered a loss, and they were coming up for the funeral. Chris reached out to me, asking if there was a day I could come and see him. I frantically checked my work schedule and reached out to people to see if anyone would be willing to trade a shift with me. Someone did, and I was able to take an earlier shift. I immediately braved the Boston traffic after work and made my way to the North Shore, where I grew up, to see a friend I hadn't seen in 20 years.

Seeing Chris and his Family Again

I sat down to dinner with Chris and his family. From dinner, we went to a nearby bar. There was plenty to talk about. We only had a few hours, not enough time, even if it hadn't been 20 years and three or four presidential administrations. We drank beer, talked about our jobs, our families, life. What started out as banter before religion class turned into catching up about each other's families. Some of whom we've met, some we've only heard about, and some have been lost to us.

We talked over lunch 30 years ago. Now we share beers. I remember being in college and going out to eat with Chris. We ordered nachos. Chris deemed it necessary to observe a moment of silence to the beautiful plate of nachos that graced our table. We called each other on weekends and during school vacations. Now, we text when there's a free moment at work.

A lot has changed since that afternoon in 1992, even Bishop Fenwick has gone through some changes. It's inevitable when a few decades roll by. Included in those decades are life events, marriages, births, deaths, and other noteworthy things we have the need to, "talk to anyone who'll listen and even those who won't," as Vin Scully likes to say. I don't know when I'm going to see Chris again, but when I do, there may be a beer involved. There will be stories. Some will be dusted off as we resurrect some specific moment from a play rehearsal or sports tryout. Others will be a moment from our time as a husband or a father. Whatever it is, we're going to smile, say hello, and start talking just like we did that day long ago in Ms. Bertrand's religion class. I don't know who decided to transfer Chris to that class, but whoever you are, Thank you.

January 16, 2025. Thirty-four years later.

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