A Voice From My Past

I don’t know about you, but my social media accounts send me unsolicited flashbacks.  Some are called “Remember this day?”, or something similar, and they show a picture, or two, taken on the same date years prior.  I suppose they’re part of some algorithm that someone thought we receivers would find helpful.  I always take a look to see what I was doing back when.

A few days ago, I received copies of two emails sent from one of my friends, Mike Smith.  The first was sent in 2013 and the second in 2014.  Both were sent on the same day, May 26, a year apart.  I’d never received flashback emails before, only pictures.  Receiving documents seemed unusual.

I lived with Mike during my first year of teaching.  We were fraternity brothers at Western.  We did more together after college than during.  We double dated, took trips to New Orleans, Canada, and Martha’s Vineyard, and visited each other’s parent’s homes on several occasions.  We both dated girls from Nazareth College but married others.

Mike was the first foodie in my life.  He and I discussed opening a restaurant together.  We envisioned a fancy steakhouse with high end liquor and beautiful waitresses.  He’d oversee the food, and I’d run the bar.  Love dashed those dreams.

After Ruth and I married, we lived with Mike and Chuck Jensen for a few weeks.  We were the four amigos.

Mike started dating one of Chuck’s former girlfriends, Vivian.  Chuck had moved on to Linda.  Mike married Vivian a year, or so, after Ruth and me. They had one child, Allyson, a few months after our David was born.  Chuck married Linda.

Mike’s first post college job was with the Federal Reserve Bank in Detroit.  He was one of the guys in charge of burning currency that was being taken out of circulation.  He didn’t do the burning but was responsible for the disposal accounting process.

Mike’s second job took him to South America on several occasions.  He learned to speak Portuguese while working there.  When Allyson was about a year old, he was transferred to England.  When they returned to the states, they moved to Sacramento, California.  Ruth and I visited them a couple times when my work took us to conventions in San Fransisco.   Mike introduced us to Starbucks and sushi. And he took us to Pebble Beach for creme brulee.  That’s the last time the four of us were together.

His two emails summarize the last couple years of his life.  He died in March of 2015, about nine months after sending the second.  Chuck died in 2020 and Ruth last September.  I don’t know if these emails popped up to bring us together again, or if they are the random selections of artificial intelligence.  In any case, they have caused me to take a moment to reflect.  I’m grateful for that.

Bob (lambda tau #60)