This & watching Nancy Pelosi & Jo Biden last night gives me hope that there’s truth to the adage that age brings wisdom & along with vast experience that make times hopeful, not full of want to take us back to darker times when people said & continue to say, mean, hurtful, shameful things while seeking revenge & retribution. Go Jo Biden!!!!
You have written many beautiful things over the years, but this one tops ‘em all. Between this and Joe’s speech last night my faith in human nature just might be restored. THANK YOU!
That is why I can relate to so much of what you write: My experiences growing up in a small town in South Dakota with similar church separations (Catholic and Lutheran and also relatives who were Evangelical). There was the one town bum who people tolerated, the one Communist who was an outcast, the person who built a bomb shelter in his old sistern, and the one old woman who never came out of her house except on Halloween when she served hot home-made donuts. It was a great place to grow up but I could not live there now. Thanks for all of your writing, speaking, and cruises.
The truly blessed are those who have appreciated the value of every friendship from the beginning, for they have likely made the most each of their treasures. The rest of us may be blessed by incidents that expose the value of a friendship to us now and again, but often it is only on reflection that we come to appreciate how very special - even magical - a friendship can be. Your column today reminds me of the value of friendship and I hope it encourages many to pick up the phone, stop by the house, or otherwise take steps to enjoy some more of the special magic that is friendship. Thank you!
What "Amen Stories" today...leaping over the defensive back and into the arms of a touchdown, and you being more than just a cub reporter, telling the stories that bring back these pieces of memories that last and retold with a friend who mixes the catalyst. Who knows how we will be welcomed through the pearly gates when our time comes. Perhaps it's on the shoulders of those we love who are the "Welcoming Committee." and they all explode with a greeting you'll never forget because you'll be there doing whar you do best and forever.
When I hear Garrison up there leading us in savior-song, I'll join in too, just like they all do in GK's shows.
"The phone is the best tool of freiendship" I recently put an old wall phone in the kitchen and it works like new. The dial tone, the ring you can't miss, bring a smile to my face. Some friends and family now call on that line. It's a small change that has made a very welcome difference. Also, thanks Joe for pumping us up and kicking some red butt last night.
Thank you, Mr. Keillor. The video link was beautiful. Here in northern Arizona, 5,300 feet elevation, my roses are all starting to bud. A little wet snow and rain yesterday. No city or street lights thus the Big Dipper directly overhead now is spectacular!
You took me back to growing up in Sauk Rapids on the Mississippi and I’m now 83. I live in Ohio now but we used to go up to the lake every summer while we could still get in the boat to fish. My old friend died not too long ago and I shed tears all over again. Thanks for the lovely column.
The phone rang, not at all the same as it did when we were in high school together, and Ellen, my oldest friend, said, “Tonkiss?” (everyone called me by my odd surname back then; they’re all gone from my life now, so she’s the only one who still calls me that). We had lost friends and family and gone to too many funerals at that young age and her ear was closer to the ground than everyone else’s because her mother, who we referred to as Big Red for her flaming red hair and her larger than life Irish personality, was the equivalent of Mrs. Kravitz in our town, was always privy to its affairs.
So as soon as I heard the tone in her voice when she said my name, I said “What’s wrong?”
All she said was, “Fletcher’s dead.”
Fletcher was the only man I truly loved second to my father, but the love was unrequited. We were the closest of friends, but it ended there. Fletcher was a big shot; our circle of friends orbited around his existence. In truth, he was never a good friend to any of us. He was self centered and quite aware of all the girls who wanted to call him their boyfriend.
I had only been back in touch with him recently; he called out of the blue because he needed some information from me regarding the sexual abuse perpetrated by Father Joe against him and his friends. He was in the process of filing a lawsuit against the diocese. I was one of two people outside of our circle who knew about it (Ellen and myself) and nothing was ever done to address it. We just didn’t talk about it. He needed me to write a deposition and speak with his lawyer. He didn’t ask me how I was doing. I knew that he owned a famous art gallery and was severely alcoholic. We both loved Jackson Browne. He won a $200,000 settlement and we came to find out that this was not Father Joe’s first offense and not his last. He was transferred from parish to parish after every offense was found out and now he is comfortably retired somewhere in upstate New York. I never heard from Fletcher after the settlement. I did go to a Jackson Browne concert and Paul McCartney’s concert (he loved the Beatles) and both times I called him so he could hear the music with me. No response. It figured. Me thinking of him, he thinking of himself.
The news of his death hit me hard for a minute or two, and then I felt oddly relieved. All those years of never getting over him vanished, I told Ellen we would talk again soon, and I made my bed, got dressed and started a new day.
Thank You for your honesty and I am sorry for your loss. Many,if not most of us, had a friend or two like this but I would love a chance to say 'good-bye to them, all the same.
Got my own blue eyes cryin' in the rain from the reading. It's ok.
Same her, Annie....great minds.
What you're speaking about sounds like a "rosary conversation" - where the deep connection goes on underneath the actual words passed back and forth. You might want to see more about this at http://momentsunderlamplight.co.uk/2024/02/26/evening-under-lamplight-308-rosary-conversations/
That was lovely. Thank you.
This & watching Nancy Pelosi & Jo Biden last night gives me hope that there’s truth to the adage that age brings wisdom & along with vast experience that make times hopeful, not full of want to take us back to darker times when people said & continue to say, mean, hurtful, shameful things while seeking revenge & retribution. Go Jo Biden!!!!
Lovely, and what it’s all about.
You have written many beautiful things over the years, but this one tops ‘em all. Between this and Joe’s speech last night my faith in human nature just might be restored. THANK YOU!
That is why I can relate to so much of what you write: My experiences growing up in a small town in South Dakota with similar church separations (Catholic and Lutheran and also relatives who were Evangelical). There was the one town bum who people tolerated, the one Communist who was an outcast, the person who built a bomb shelter in his old sistern, and the one old woman who never came out of her house except on Halloween when she served hot home-made donuts. It was a great place to grow up but I could not live there now. Thanks for all of your writing, speaking, and cruises.
The truly blessed are those who have appreciated the value of every friendship from the beginning, for they have likely made the most each of their treasures. The rest of us may be blessed by incidents that expose the value of a friendship to us now and again, but often it is only on reflection that we come to appreciate how very special - even magical - a friendship can be. Your column today reminds me of the value of friendship and I hope it encourages many to pick up the phone, stop by the house, or otherwise take steps to enjoy some more of the special magic that is friendship. Thank you!
What "Amen Stories" today...leaping over the defensive back and into the arms of a touchdown, and you being more than just a cub reporter, telling the stories that bring back these pieces of memories that last and retold with a friend who mixes the catalyst. Who knows how we will be welcomed through the pearly gates when our time comes. Perhaps it's on the shoulders of those we love who are the "Welcoming Committee." and they all explode with a greeting you'll never forget because you'll be there doing whar you do best and forever.
When I hear Garrison up there leading us in savior-song, I'll join in too, just like they all do in GK's shows.
Every note is needed....
"The phone is the best tool of freiendship" I recently put an old wall phone in the kitchen and it works like new. The dial tone, the ring you can't miss, bring a smile to my face. Some friends and family now call on that line. It's a small change that has made a very welcome difference. Also, thanks Joe for pumping us up and kicking some red butt last night.
Thank you, Mr. Keillor. The video link was beautiful. Here in northern Arizona, 5,300 feet elevation, my roses are all starting to bud. A little wet snow and rain yesterday. No city or street lights thus the Big Dipper directly overhead now is spectacular!
I'm in pieces after reading this. Thank you - seriously!
You took me back to growing up in Sauk Rapids on the Mississippi and I’m now 83. I live in Ohio now but we used to go up to the lake every summer while we could still get in the boat to fish. My old friend died not too long ago and I shed tears all over again. Thanks for the lovely column.
Touching- sometimes you hit into a double play, but this one is a homer- and it didn't just bearly clear the left field fence. It is a no doubter.
The phone rang, not at all the same as it did when we were in high school together, and Ellen, my oldest friend, said, “Tonkiss?” (everyone called me by my odd surname back then; they’re all gone from my life now, so she’s the only one who still calls me that). We had lost friends and family and gone to too many funerals at that young age and her ear was closer to the ground than everyone else’s because her mother, who we referred to as Big Red for her flaming red hair and her larger than life Irish personality, was the equivalent of Mrs. Kravitz in our town, was always privy to its affairs.
So as soon as I heard the tone in her voice when she said my name, I said “What’s wrong?”
All she said was, “Fletcher’s dead.”
Fletcher was the only man I truly loved second to my father, but the love was unrequited. We were the closest of friends, but it ended there. Fletcher was a big shot; our circle of friends orbited around his existence. In truth, he was never a good friend to any of us. He was self centered and quite aware of all the girls who wanted to call him their boyfriend.
I had only been back in touch with him recently; he called out of the blue because he needed some information from me regarding the sexual abuse perpetrated by Father Joe against him and his friends. He was in the process of filing a lawsuit against the diocese. I was one of two people outside of our circle who knew about it (Ellen and myself) and nothing was ever done to address it. We just didn’t talk about it. He needed me to write a deposition and speak with his lawyer. He didn’t ask me how I was doing. I knew that he owned a famous art gallery and was severely alcoholic. We both loved Jackson Browne. He won a $200,000 settlement and we came to find out that this was not Father Joe’s first offense and not his last. He was transferred from parish to parish after every offense was found out and now he is comfortably retired somewhere in upstate New York. I never heard from Fletcher after the settlement. I did go to a Jackson Browne concert and Paul McCartney’s concert (he loved the Beatles) and both times I called him so he could hear the music with me. No response. It figured. Me thinking of him, he thinking of himself.
The news of his death hit me hard for a minute or two, and then I felt oddly relieved. All those years of never getting over him vanished, I told Ellen we would talk again soon, and I made my bed, got dressed and started a new day.
Thank You for your honesty and I am sorry for your loss. Many,if not most of us, had a friend or two like this but I would love a chance to say 'good-bye to them, all the same.
"Home, Home on the Range"...lyrics running through my mind all morning after watching the Youtube video.❤️