An explanation re: the friend mentioned in the post below...

by Otony, Thursday, January 30, 2014, 22:26 (3955 days ago)

I met Tom Austin in 1967 at Madrone Junior High School. We were instantly both friends and at odds with one another for the rest of our time spent together, a period of over 20 years.

Tom was one of those unfortunate fellows who is far more intelligent than virtually anyone around him, and yet was unable to apply that gift in a productive manner. He was, at times, the most brilliant person I had ever met, and the most exasperating, sometimes simultaneously.

His love for the outdoors, firearms, and fishing, was instilled in him by his father, Orville, and an older brother, Brian. Their family owned a small cabin in the northern California redwoods, and he set about mastering the ins and outs of backwoods living.

I mentioned arguing with him. Oh my, could he be contrary. He was on our school debate team, both in junior high and high school, and would argue a point at he drop of a hat. Honestly, I saw (and experienced!) him argue both sides of an issue more than once. Or argue his opponents side better, just to prove he could. I was a fan of Elmer beginning in the '60s, so of course Tom preferred Jack. We somehow managed to agree that Skeeter was more interesting, and had a healthy disregard for George Nonte for reasons I can no longer remember, but probably had to do with that mustache!

The times we had were shining, golden, despite his orneriness. We did a lot of outrageously fun things together, as well as a few incredibly dumb stunts, like all teenagers do. We discovered cars, girls, and alcohol, we took risks, we egged one another on. In short, we were friends, good friends.

As we matured (somewhat) Tom became more and more uncomfortable in his own skin. He was searching for, and failing to find, happiness and success. The worse it got, the more morose he became, at times paranoid to some degree about those whom he perceived as dragging him down. Once we had hit our mid-30s, he was well on the road to becoming a serious drunk. And if it were possible, he made the situation more difficult by beginning to offend and alienate total strangers who were simply in his path.

By 1989, I had had more than I could manage, the more so as three other dear friends of the same age were themselves undergoing battles with alcohol. It was more than I felt I could deal with, so I gently eased my self out of Tom's life, with a tremendous amount of regret. I know it hurt him terribly, but his actions had caused total strangers to fight with me, simply because I happened to be his friend. It was time to bow out, for my own well being.

About ten years ago, I started searching for Tom. His family had sold their home, his parents had passed on, and I was unable to locate either him or any of his siblings. I was hoping he had matured, and gotten into a program, and frankly, I was ashamed I hadn't stood by him. We had been like brothers, and regardless of his issues, I couldn't escape a feeling of having failed him. Foolish, perhaps, but that was how I felt.

Fast forward to a few weeks ago. I idly typed Tom's name into Google, and thought to add the name of our high school. I was stunned to find an obscure alumni website that listed him as one of the classmates who had passed away from our class. I also found contact information for one of his sisters. Writing her, and establishing a connection, I was shocked to discover Tom had taken his own life ten years ago, at roughly the same time I felt a need to search him out.

His alcoholism and depression had only increased over the years, and the passing of his father along with a recent divorce was apparently more than he could deal with.

I am having a tremendous amount of sadness and nostalgia about our friendship, plus a strong sense of having truly failed him. I am not so silly as to think myself responsible, but I certainly feel as though my turning my back on him may have contributed in some manner. Since discovering this news, not a day has gone by wherein I don't think of him, or one of our escapades. Let me put it another way. Growing up we both took extraordinary delight in Skeeter's "Me an Joe" stories. That was us, that was our friendship. And I miss him, I miss that companionship. Would that we could turn back time.....

Otony