It was early in the morning when May had just turned to June. One of my assistants knocked on my door, “Todd is on the phone.” The person on the other line had never called my office before. His last name was never mentioned and none of my employees had ever met him; yet, everyone knew why he was calling. In the short moment I had , I searched for an appropriate greeting. “You’re not going to sue me, are you?” was what I delivered. “I don’t know, I haven’t read the book yet.” We both had a good laugh. It was the answer I should have expected from my old friend, Todd Krieg.
What do you say to your best friend from childhood whom you have not spoken with in over 15 years? I was hoping he read the chapter in the book , I was hoping it made him feel good about our coming of age relationship, and I was hoping that maybe we could move forward being in each other’s lives again. ” I did hear all about your book. Congratulations. I heard it was really good.” I couldn’t let him finish, “I sent you a copy a few weeks ago, have you read it?”
“No I’m in Florida and won’t be returning home (Milwaukee) for another week. I promise to read it as soon as I get back.” With those brief words and some informal, small pleasantries, my highly anticipated reunion with my old buddy was over that quickly.
The story of my childhood best friend was a lot easier to write than I like to pretend. It was relationship I had agonized over more than any other in my life. On some level, I’ve known what I wanted to say for the last 30 years. I always knew the story would begin with Todd and myself meeting on the Campus School little league field at second base. Although our memories together get foggy, the way it read was exactly how I remember it and that’s all that really ever matters. Our close knit bond unofficially ended in September of 1984 . It was in the early summer of that year that I flew back from Milwaukee (after Todd got married) and knew I had left a big part of me behind.
In the 30 years that have passed since then, my old friend and I had spoken maybe three or four times. Our brief conversation that June morning was pleasant, brief, but somewhat awkward. After it was over I was left to wait a few more weeks to see how Todd was going to react to my mea culpa to him in print for all the world to read. I was very nervous. My mind went back and forth between two extremes. “I don’t know Rich, it is O.K., but I’m not so sure you got the story right and I’m not so sure our friendship in adolescence was all that.” Or quite possibly, ” Amazing Rich, brilliant job. You captured it perfectly and it moved me to tears. Thank you for the tribute.”
Of course I got neither reaction. Spring had just turned to Summer and I noticed I had an e-mail from Todd. Like the kid waiting to open that last present on Christmas morning my heart skipped a beat. I was excited but also ready to be disappointed. After I opened and read the e-mail, I sat motionless, staring into my computer. It was the Todd I had loved as a boy. In very few words Todd was practical, to the point , and sent a subtle message. “Bravo and Congratulations! I started the book Saturday morning and could not put it down until I read it all! Although our friendship may have faded during the middle holes of life, after a strong start, my philosophy in life is that the back nine holds tremendous promise and I am willing to double down.'” Nothing specific, nothing about his chapter, but I heard him loud and clear; ‘I love you too Rich, and I forgive you.”
