What does the LORD require of you, but to love kindness, do justice, and walk humbly. —Micah 6.8
* * *
I inadvertently found out that my first-ever best friend died last month. I hadn’t seen or heard from him in 60 years. I didn’t weep. I gasped. I’d been meaning to call him for the past 20 years.
Marvin and I were friends from first grade through high school. We were in nearly all the same classes. We competed in academics, sports, and religiosity.
He went to Hebrew school. I went to Sunday School. He was bar mitzvahed. I was baptized. He went to the Jewish Community Center. I went to the Young Men’s Christian Association.
We hung out. His house. My house. Janet’s house. Shelley’s house. Tennis courts. Basketball courts. (His jump shot was sweeter than mine.) We both wooed the same girl in sixth grade. (If you’re keeping score, I won that one.)
In sixth grade we wrote a comedy skit about dental hygiene. The school nurse sent us around to every classroom. Not exactly Cheech and Chong. But close.
We were officers in Interact (the high school version of Rotary). We were on the varsity basketball team. We never thought of dying. Friends forever. Why not?
We graduated. He went one way, I went another. He went to the University of Cincinnati. I went to Wheaton College. We drifted apart. We assumed our lives would remain intertwined, somehow. They didn’t. An old story.
Twenty years ago—out of the blue—I searched the web and found his contact information. He was in Los Angeles. I meant to reach out to him. I didn’t. An old story.
One of my subscribers who also knew Marvin in high school saw his name in my post last Sunday (“A Jewish Prayer”) and sent me his obit.
As President and CEO of the Jewish Community Foundation of Los Angeles for over 33 years Marvin presided over unprecedented growth, transforming the Foundation into a philanthropic powerhouse and cornerstone of Southern California’s Jewish life.
Reflecting back on his 33 years at his retirement, Marvin remarked, “I have been grateful every one of these 12,000-plus days to be in a position to help repair our broken world and assist many others in doing likewise. What could be more rewarding than that?”
It’s too late for me to tell him what I would have liked to tell him, but I can tell you: I was proud and grateful to count Marvin Schotland as my first best friend.
May his memory be blessed.
Glad to see how much of a blessing his memory is.
Author Lois Wyse has written, “A good friend is a connection to life–a tie to the past, a road to the future, the key to sanity in a totally insane world.” Marvin, your first best friend, was such a tie and key for you. For all these years, despite not making contact with him, he remained within your heart, mind and spirit. What a legacy he left for you and others, striving to “repair our broken world.” His example, actions and friendship still remain a part of you. His memory remains a blessing for you and the world. Thank you for this inspirational story.
This is really beautiful Randy. I imagine the thin veil between us and Marvin might give him the openness to witness this blessing. Pretty incredible the way each of you made huge impacts in similar domains on exact opposite sides of the country.
And so, maybe just maybe, your life touched Marvin‘s life touched the life of Stephen Miller, stranger things have happened and someday, somehow, something good will come out of that connection. We must live in hope.
A moving tribute to your first best friend. We’ve all got folks in our lives such as Marvin. Also, we all have good intentions that we never follow through on. Such is the way of life. These folks were pivotal for us when young. We all do the best we can and do so partly due to friendships we had in the past. Let’s hear it for first best friends.
Thank you for this thot provoking, deeply human story, Randy. A celebration of young friendship; a cautionary tale about what one means to do, & sometimes never gets around to. But since we are spirit beings in temporary bodies, the spirit connections you have with him & others are strong…& there is much to be grateful for in this tired & troubled world – still filled with beauty, friendship & love!!
I have two thoughts.
My best friend throughout all my school years was my best man and we are still in regular contact. (He lives in Santa Fe now,)
My regret, similar to yours, concerns my high school physics teacher, Ed North. This was at Washington-Lee HS in Arlington VA. Besides teaching us how to design an experiment and write a good lab report, he taught us how to seek direction in life, with some useful purpose in mind. He left Arlington to take a teaching position at Choate in Wallingford CT.
For some 45 years I intended to look him up and tell him what an impact he had on my life. So, when I finally used the internet to track him down, I found he had died some six months earlier. What a blow. The good side is that I connected with others who knew him professionally, and we reminisced.
No doubt you shared your own theology with each other. Maybe your experiences with one another brought greater and deeper understanding and love than dry theology.
My two best life-long friends were also two Jewish brothers in Spring Valley, NY. Like Shepherdstown it was an idyllic town nestled between the Hudson River and Harriman State Park. Word to the wise, its development was not watched over, and is now not a place I would choose to live. But I digress. William (Willy) and Steven Weitzman, now going my their musical trade name The Roues Brothers, We were inseparable. All of the firsts of growing up, we did together, cigarettes, alcohol, pot, and other assorted pleasures. We learned about Pete Seeger, Bob Dylan, The Buddha, and the antiwar movement together. We learned to play guitar together, moved to Village and played in all the famous Greenwich Village cafes together. They stayed with music and I drifted off to University (never being as talented as they were). Through all those years, wives, kids, and life’s lessons, we have stayed in touch. There have been years of gaps but now, we speak daily to weekly. I am blessed to have two brothers from another mother. Thank you for sharing your remembrance of Marvin.
When a precious friend or school acquaintance dies, I write a letter to them. It spells my heart and friendship and love for and to them. I then go outside and burn the letter – letting the smoke carry my message to them and from me.
Sorry for this startling loss, especially when he came to mind for you to contact. I’ve encountered this, and each time I say, I need to reach out quickly when a person comes to mind, if I have any way of contacting them. I am glad you had a subscriber who could send you the obituary. Sweet friends from long ago stay with us, and I expect/believe Abraham’s Bosom and Heaven are the same, so I will meet Jewish loved ones again.
Beautiful, ty. Good reminder to check in on old friends from the past.
I’m sorry for your loss and that you can not tell Marvin what you would like to tell him. Sometimes those ‘oldest best friends’ are the best! Many blessings,
Sounds like a great best friend that each of you had. I enjoyed the story.