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The Bridge to Joel Madison.
I lost a friend today ...
At least I think I did ... It sure feels like I did ...
Maybe ... I just think too much ... At this moment, I don’t
know what to think ...
It’s just that there was such a splash in my ocean today ...
a real soul soaker.
Joel is one of the few people in my world that I feel
doesn’t want anything from me. Some one who I really enjoy
hanging around with. We share a great many interests ...
deeply important interests ...
Flying for instance ... We both have the deepest passion for
flying airplanes.
There are few bugs like it in the world. Once you’ve been
bitten ... there is no escape. It is very hard to love
anything like you would love flying.
It’s so ... well rounded ... this passion ... its many
facets making a jewel like no other ...
Firstly, to be up there ...
Looking out over the rest of the world ... is a serenity
only a pilot can understand.
Secondly, to be in control of your motion while you are up
there ... can give you that elusive feeling that most of us
philosophically ponder as we watch a bird’s flight in
wonderment.
And last but not least ... With love ... any and all loves
... there must be respect.
So if you truly love flying, you most assuredly respect it.
If you don’t ... it can kill you.
It’s kind of a strange lesson on real love ... Flying I mean
... It must be accompanied by respect.
I guess you could compare it to the sea ... There are those
who love the sea as much as I love flying. I promise that in
their love, there is a deep respect. Again, if there isn’t
... it can kill you.
Joel and I love flying ...
We also share another deeply important interest ...
Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups ... Frozen Reese’s Peanut Butter
Cups to be more precise. We always have them in our freezer.
When I’m at his house, he throws me few. When he’s at mine,
I toss him a couple. We bring them to each other’s house and
“keep the stock up”. There’s other stuff too ... but you get
the picture.
I’m getting ahead of my self though. First, you must know
that I met Joel in the seventh grade ... I’ve known him for
over 27 years ... you do the math ... we’re getting older.
I’ve
known his wife for over 20 years and knew each of them
before they knew each other ... here is where the story
starts with twist ... I ran into his wife at a pub about a
year and a half ago and before I knew it, I was “meeting her
husband” and low and behold I knew him too! That happens a
lot around here ... I mean me knowing people. I’ve lived
here over 30 years. When I got here, there were dairy and
chicken farms and such. There aren’t any of those within
fifty miles of here now. I’ve grown up with the community. I
know a lot of people. We got to talking, Joel and I ... then
eventually hanging out ... at least when he wasn’t working.
I’ve never seen any one who could “Go” like he can. He is in
motion from the time he gets out of bed until the time he
climbs back in it ... When I say motion ... I mean MOTION!
If he isn’t literally at work doing some project, he’s hot
on the heels of one somewhere around his house. He and his
family helped me move into this old house I’m buying. He had
his paid employee, Wendell, come and help me do stuff around
here to get the ol’ place ready for me to move in. His wife
and kids even helped move furniture or clean or paint. I was
so flattered that they’d help me like this ... I was amazed
at how strong the bridge between he and I had been. Without
seeing him for years, we were buddies just like we’d been
years ago. I wondered if it was a lingering emotion carried
over from our youth ... or did he, like me, just believe in
being real.
I thought it was a little of both. Let’s face it, as you
grow older, those types of friendships grow fewer and
farther between. Every one wants something out of you or has
some motive for befriending you. Of course, the more
successful you are, the more of these “non-real” types you
attract. Your older, more “real” friends seem to head off in
their own directions and rarely do you get to keep an “old”
friend in your life for any length of time. I think we both
thought it odd that we’d known each other for so long and
yet not seen each other around this little town for years!
And besides all that ... share a passion for flying, as
well.
This is where our parallel lives ended though. You see, he’d
gotten his GED and left school in eighth grade. He hated
school and wanted to get right to work! Like I said ...
always in motion. I loved school and stayed to graduate. By
the time I was out of school and started working as a bag
boy at Winn Dixie, he was working at a restaurant his uncle
owned and driving a ‘Vette! After that, he went into
construction. He’s done very well for himself that Joel. He
has provided for himself and his family with great success.
He has a nice house and he and his wife have four kids. They
have many nice things ... like four-wheel ATV’s ... A nice
motor coach for the whole family to go camping in ... and an
airplane.
His construction experience helped him get a contractor’s
license, a busy industry here in west central Florida ... as
is keeping up with four kids and a wife ... a pool ... two
cats, a dog, several fish, two turtles and six ATV’s, a golf
cart, a motorcycle, a motor coach, an airplane and an
airport. Did I mention that they live on a runway? His
subdivision has it’s own airport and most of the people who
live there have their own airplanes. Leave it to Joel ...
He’s in charge of maintaining the airport. He changes bulbs
on the runway, orders fuel, makes purchases and such, all
while juggling the rest of his life. No problem for him
though ... Always in motion. He is truly amazing.
I went another route entirely ... chasing dreams and pots of
gold, changing careers whenever the wind blew. I’ve never
really had anything. I’ve always rented. I’ve even lived in
my car when times were tough. I’ve never accumulated
anything but experiences. To have the things he has ...
especially a family ... has always been my most elusive
dream ... let alone to have an airplane and live on a
runway!
I have no regrets though and neither does he ...
But on more than one occasion we’ve each laughingly
expressed a jealousy for each other’s lives ...
Me, filled with a longing for security ...
He, filled with a longing to be a leaf on the wind ...
Ah ... sweet irony ... I think we are both just a little
tired ...
Hindsight is always 20/20 when you’re looking at the green,
green grass ... on the other side of the fence.
For his help, I tried many a time to show my appreciation
... but no matter what I did, I felt like I was annoying him
more than anything. Furthermore, they always made me feel so
welcome in their home, calling me over all the time and
whatnot. I loved it. It gave me a feeling of belonging to a
family that I had been missing for far too many years. They
made me feel so comfortable. I loved his children like they
were my own. I tried to help him whenever I could ... but
more often than not, it would seem I caused more harm than
good. I settled for just hanging out and trying to let them
know if they needed anything, to just ask. I often opted to
stay out of his way and just sit up in the office and play
on the computer.
After a while, I noticed a change in the kid’s demeanor
towards me. They began to talk to and treat me with great
disrespect. One day the older son, angry because I wouldn’t
let him bully his younger brother off of the computer, told
me that he “ ... couldn’t understand why my parents let you
come over at all.” When I asked what he meant by that, he
replied that they thought I was a jerk. I was dumbfounded. I
didn’t know if this bordering-on-genius-IQ child was using
the sharp sword of a child’s tongue to lash out at me, or if
this was the black and white world of youth. But later my
suspicious fears began to be confirmed. One by one, the kids
each began to show me not only disrespect, but also an
outright pleasure in aggravating me by hiding my things,
vandalizing my car or just plain saying mean, spiteful
things. When I told their parents what had happened, I was
amazed that there was very little ... if any ...
reprehension.
I began to theorize that the children had heard their
parents speaking badly of me in my absence and so they felt
that they had “license” to disrespect me.
And why not?
If their parents thought so little of me ... why should they
show me any respect?
Especially when I was trying to stop them from fighting with
one another or bullying each other. They felt they didn’t
have to listen to me because their parents didn’t hold a
very high opinion of me. When you are their age, your
behaviors are learned ... by example. I had never seen this
disrespectful demeanor being displayed to any of the other
“adults” in their world. I didn’t want to believe my theory
... I wanted to be part of this family and Joel’s friendship
meant the world to me. I started to not hang out at the
house so much. I thought that maybe it would be better.
Maybe I was getting on their nerves. I would tell them to
call me ... but the calls would never come. When they did,
they would say things like “ ... you were supposed to call
us.” Or “ ... How come you ain’t been coming over to hang
out lately?”
More confusion ...
I didn’t want to confront them with what I was thinking.
What if I was wrong?
What if it was just the kids being kids ... or me, like I
said before, “thinking too much”?
So I slowly started coming back over, but my friendship with
the kids wasn’t the same. I kept my guard up and didn’t
interact with them as much. It hurt like hell ...
One week, Wendell had to go out west. His mom was very sick.
I went to work with Joel in his place to try and help him
meet a deadline on a very important client’s new home. It
was summer and Joel brought along his younger son. I’d
always gotten along great with him ... protecting him from
his older brother’s bullying. But the first day out on the
job site ... I asked him to run and grab a can of PVC glue.
He not only smarted off to me ... When I told him not to
talk to me like I was an idiot ... He informed me: “You are
and idiot!”
I couldn’t believe he was speaking to me like that. But that
was nothing compared to the disbelief that I was smacked
with when I told Joel what the boy had said to me and Joel
said little if anything to him about it. When I was a child,
if I spoke with disrespect to an elder I was punished post
haste. For the rest of the day, I wondered if there would
have been more said if the boy had spouted off to another of
Joel’s adult friends ... The older sons words from before
floated around under my bridge all the way home that day ...
“If they don’t want me around ... ” I thought. “ ... then
why call or invite me ... or ask me why I wasn’t coming over
as much?” The confusion blended into a cocktail with my
fears and my pain that made me ill.
I hung out less and less ... I didn’t know what else to do.
This time, they called less and less.
My theory was proving to be more and more correct all the
time.
But did he ... they ... really hate me or think so little of
me that they had no respect for me at all?
After all ... love, true love ... comes with respect.
Remember?
I never had a bad word to say about any of them ...
especially Joel. He was one of the best friends I had!
How could it be that right in front of me ... he was
teaching his kids that he had no respect for me?
I didn’t know what to think.
I’ve said before that we are all islands.
To go along with that, I’d like to add that between us we
have bridges.
Some are weak ...
Some are strong ...
Some are short ...
Some are long ...
We build them ...
We propose them ...
And sometimes ... we burn them ...
In the business world, they call it “networking” ... No
matter what its name, the stronger the bridge, the more
weight that can be carried across it. These weights can be
burdens or blessings ... it’s what the bridge’s are for.
It’s what helps to keep us friends and allows us to do for
one another ... to help carry each others weight ... to
share each others blessings. The bridge’s ability to hold
weight is a direct measure of the strength of a friendship
and the mutual respect that comes with it.
I was fascinated that our bridge had remained through all
those years ... Or did it?
Today I was at the house and had a few final bricks of
evidence dropped on my head.
Again, by the kids ... A few days before, I had sat up for
hours in the office on the phone trying to get their new
cable Internet connection straight. Half of the time on
hold, the other half talking to a technician. After that,
the younger son asked me to put some games on his desktop.
The older one, always the bully, then went behind me,
deleting them. In his blind cruelty, he deleted the game’s
ability to be played by any one.
When I called him on it, he spitefully informed me that he
had heard his dad telling some friends, who were visiting
for the weekend, that he “ ... Hate’s it when Jeff comes
over because he’s always on the computer and so he can’t get
on it to get his own work done.” I could tell not only by
the look on his face that he was telling the truth, but by
the fact that when I met these people, that they never
really bonded with me. Hardly looking me in the eye, short
in conversation, cold body language etc. But, more than
anything else I’d noticed, was this overwhelming feeling
that they knew something that I didn’t. I can’t explain it,
but I get “Vibes” (for lack of a better term) from people.
Well now it was all explained. These people felt no respect
for me because they felt no respect for me from Joel ...
Just like the kids. After this realization, I left and went
home with a broken heart. My usually overactive mind was
going a million miles an hour ...
What had I done?
What had I said?
What could have possibly transpired to make him secretly
dislike me so much?
Stranger still ... Why do so much for some one you seemingly
cared so little for?
He had done so much for me ...
I had nothing to offer him in return but my friendship ...
It made no sense to me at all ...
But the writing was on the wall ... as clear as day.
A few hours later, his older daughter called me, having a
dilemma on the computer while trying to get on the net to do
a book report. I drove back out there to help her and while
I was there, the older boy asked me to help him do something
on the net ... I informed him that since he didn’t
appreciate my helping him any other time, I didn’t see any
reason why I should help him now.
He stated that it wasn’t him who didn’t appreciate what I
did on the machine. He topped that off by informing me that,
at the dinner table earlier that night, the younger brother
(The one who I had helped by putting games on his desktop)
had made the statement;
“Why doesn’t scumbag Jeff get his own computer, instead of
using ours?”
The older daughter wouldn’t even look away from the computer
... It confirmed that she knew that what he was saying was
true. She knew it was said.
I just shook my head.
The Bully didn’t even realize that it wasn’t only his
brother that he was telling on.
She knew that too. That’s why she wouldn’t look up at me.
How could a ten-year-old kid feel so comfortable calling an
adult friend of his parents “Scumbag” … In front of them?
It just all made too much sense ...
More sense than I cared to deal with ...
And with those few simple words ...
From the mouths of a few small boys ...
I felt a bridge crumble ... into the ocean.
A bridge that had meant so much to me ...
A bridge that I so desperately wanted to stay intact ...
Soaking my soul with painful, bone chilling waves ...
It was a very large splash indeed.
-Jeff Gaines
10:00 P.M.
November 25th, 2002
Port Richey, Florida.
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