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After All These Years

Dan Smith

JEFF, DAVE, JERRY, Glenn, John, the ElderBeerMen, and then Jeff again. Experts say a robust social network is crucial to a happy retirement. My life’s journey has revolved around a handful of friends who begin and end with the same good dude. 

I was a 15-year-old kid who didn’t like school, and I had the grades to prove it. I did, however, have two burning desires. I couldn’t wait to turn 16 so that, one, I could get my first job and, two, buy my first car. My dad helped me land a job at the local supermarket as a bag boy, where I ate up every hour the manager would give me. I saved up and bought my first car, a sweet 1967 Cougar XR-7.

Two years later, when I graduated high school, the supermarket boss put me in the beverage department, where I dealt with all the vendors delivering beer, wine and soft drinks.

Jeff. A driver for 7-Up, Jeff was a few years older than me. We hit it off right away. He got me a job with his employer and later asked me to be in his wedding. I didn’t stay at 7-Up very long. Meanwhile, Jeff ended up working for corporate, eventually moving out of the area, and finally owning a small chain of supermarkets down south. Though I lost touch with Jeff some 45 years ago, and haven’t seen him since, the ripples created by our friendship continue to enrich my life to this day.

Dave. In addition to nice cars, we boomer kids loved our big stereos. This was the 1970s. Dave owned a high-end stereo store. I first went to the store with Jeff, who was looking to purchase a stereo. I ended up buying all my gear from Dave.

Dave and I became friends, and I even ended up working for him in the evenings after finishing my day job. To this day, Dave and I meet every month for lunch.

Jerry. It was still the 1970s. By this time, I was selling beer and Jerry worked for Coke. We shared many of the same customers and became friends. I got Jerry a job with me at the Budweiser distributer. Jerry later got his friend Glenn a job, and he became my friend as well. I suppose you could say that, if Jeff hadn’t got me a job, and I hadn’t got Jerry a job, Glenn wouldn’t have got his job.

Glenn. In addition to selling and delivering beer, I also served as the local union president. I needed a new shop steward. Glenn stepped up and did a tremendous job. I would soon appoint Glenn to our bargaining committee.

John. Fast forward to the late 1980s. I had been at the beer company for about 10 years when we got a new hire named John, a tough, hardworking Irish kid who’d previously worked for Pepsi in another city. It turned out that John’s family had history with the labor movement.

His dad’s name was Red, and Red was the president of the 6,000-member local glassworkers’ union in Rossford, Ohio, part of Toledo. John soon became the newest member of my team. Anyone who’s been at the bargaining table will tell you negotiating contracts is no walk in the park. The experience has kept us close to this day.

The ElderBeerMen. I left the beer business 22 years ago, but remain close with a lot of the guys. John retired a couple years ago and now owns a great little bar in Rossford. These days, I blast out a text to three dozen of my former coworkers, saying whoever’s available on the first Wednesday of the month should meet for lunch at John’s bar, Red’s Irish Goodbye, which is named after his dad. I call it the “First Wednesday meeting of the Council of ElderBeerMen.”

What the heck does any of this have to do with my long-lost buddy Jeff, the guy who got me that first job? About a year ago, the ElderBeerMen were at lunch. I was telling a story about a long-ago canoe trip I’d been on with my long-lost buddy Jeff, who I knew back in my 7-Up days. John, who I’ve known now for some 30 years, stopped me mid-story and said to me, “Smitty, Jeff is my brother-in-law.”

“Holy crap, John, I was in your sister’s wedding.”

It turns out that Jeff also got John his first job in the beverage business. After that epiphany, neither John nor I really thought about this coincidence until just the other day.

Last week, I went to Red’s twice. The first time was with my old friend Dave from the audio store. I introduced Dave and John, and the three of us had lunch. The next day, I walked into Red’s for the monthly lunch with the ElderBeerMen. John was there, but at a separate table talking to some women.

After about an hour, one of the retirees at our table directed a comment toward John, about him ignoring us in favor of the girls. John growled back that he was with his sister, who was visiting from Florida.

“Not your sister Claudia,” I shouted.

“Yep,” John answered.

John’s sister, who also happens to be Jeff’s wife, was now looking my way with that “who the heck are you look” on her face. I told her that I was in her wedding. “I’m Dan Smith,” I said smiling, and we had a great little reunion.

None of these longtime friendships that now enrich my retirement would exist had I not met Jeff more than 50 years ago. The ElderBeerMen lunches probably wouldn’t be a thing. I’m now looking forward to spending some time with Jeff and Claudia during their next trip north.

In the meantime, if anyone wants to look me up, I’ll be at Red’s eating the best darn patty melt you’ve ever tasted and sipping on an ice-cold beer, while I ponder the friendly currents that landed me on this sunny beach in Ohio.

For 30 years, Dan Smith was a driver-salesman and local union representative, before building a successful income-tax practice in Toledo, Ohio. He retired in 2022. Dan has two beautiful daughters, two loving sons-in-law and seven grandchildren. He and Chris, the love of his life, have been together for two great decades and counting. Check out Dan’s earlier articles.

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Mark Schwartz
7 months ago

Cool story on how small the world reall is. I am currently in Costa Rica visiting with one of my kids who’s looking to move here and I’m here to look around at some potential investment property. I’ve lived in Atlanta now for the past 40 years. I grew up in a suburb of Philadelphia and left to move to the South with the company I got a job with after college in 1981. It just so happens my son and I were with a real-estate guy who he knew for a previous job in the the States and we had a second real-estate guy transplant from the U.S. showing us some land and houses up in the hills on the Pacific coast. After about 15 minutes of listening to this guy talk, I asked where he was from, he says near Philadelphia and I said I’m from there too, where exactly I asked? Conshohocken he says, I about fell over cause I’m from Conshohocken, Pa. too. Turns out we grew up about 3 blocks from each other, went to the same high school and knew some of the same families, I’m about 5 years older than him so we would not have been in high school at the same time. Additionally, he’s married to a Belgium woman and I’m married to a Dutch woman…How crazy is that to come in contact with a guy from your home town in a foreign country looking at business deals and properties. This is how you network socially. Even if it’s by chance.

DAN SMITH
7 months ago
Reply to  Mark Schwartz

Mark, this truly drives home the “small world” concept.

Edwin Belen
7 months ago

What a great story. I’m glad I clicked on it. Gave me great feelings of what life can be with good friends.

Jeff
7 months ago

Dan, Great tale! Glad to hear you stayed in touch with many of your buddies. Brings to memory times when I sold beer at the old Veteran’s stadium for the Phillies in 1983 with a bunch of high school buddies. I wish I had stayed in closer touch with them.

kt2062
7 months ago

You mean you still live in the town you grew up in? That definitely makes it easier to keep a circle of friends as we get older. I guess there are pluses and minuses to being a homebody versus being peripatetic.

DAN SMITH
7 months ago
Reply to  kt2062

My two occupations, beer sales and tax prep, are not careers that called for relocation. Many of my professional friends were moving constantly. I was of the opinion that companies were taking advantage of their youth… Just my opinion.
Everything important to me is here in my home town, or at least within a couple hour drive. The positives of staying always outnumbered the negatives for me.

Jonathan Clements
Admin
7 months ago
Reply to  DAN SMITH

I’ve led a fairly root-less existence, moving often, and have ended up living thousands of miles from where I was born. I have family nearby and good friends. Still, I must confess, I’m a little jealous of those who spent their lives in one place and feel part of the fabric of the community.

Jeff Bond
7 months ago

When I left for college, I swore I would never live in my home town again. It was only 60 miles away geographically, but it might as well have been on the moon as far as what it had to offer. I’m still amazed how many of my high school classmates either never left or returned at some point. Not me.

DAN SMITH
7 months ago
Reply to  Jeff Bond

My high school sweetheart couldn’t wait to get out of town, She has had a wonderful and fulfilling life. She has a daughter in Spain and a son in Australia and uses them as an excuse to see the world.

Last edited 7 months ago by DAN SMITH
Andrew Forsythe
7 months ago

Great story, Dan, and I well remember those very nice XR-7s. But for me it was a ’67 Pontiac GTO!

DAN SMITH
7 months ago

My buddy had a 66 GTO. It was the only goat I’ve ever seen with a 3 on the tree.
Your GTO would run circles around my Cougar… but my Cougar did have class!

Last edited 7 months ago by DAN SMITH
Mike Gaynes
7 months ago

I love stories like yours, Dan. I’ve never had a network like that, but it must be wonderful to be immersed in one. I have a pal in Liverpool, England whose friends are united by their allegiance to Everton Football Club. Some have known each other 60 years. I’d be a member of their mob if I lived a bit closer than 5000 miles.

BTW, the first car I ever bought for myself was an 1985 Cougar XR-7. I went through four turbos in four years.

DAN SMITH
7 months ago
Reply to  Mike Gaynes

Thanks for the compliment Mike. I feel lucky to have many good people in my life. And I sure wish I still had that Cougar!

Pete Storm
7 months ago

Red’s is 2 miles from my mom’s house. Next time I’m in town I’ll have to stop in for a patty melt

DAN SMITH
7 months ago
Reply to  Pete Storm

Pete, that’s more proof that it’s a small world. If you ever stop in Red’s be sure to tell John how you learned of his place.

Linda Grady
7 months ago

Wonderful story, Dan. A great example of what a small world we live in.

DAN SMITH
7 months ago
Reply to  Linda Grady

It really is a small world Linda.

Nuke Ken
7 months ago

The ElderBeerMen sign is epic. Nice story, Dan.

DAN SMITH
7 months ago
Reply to  Nuke Ken

The sign was courtesy of my former employer. When I organized a memorial event for our deceased co-workers the company made a huge banner with names and pictures going back over 60 years.

Jeff Bond
7 months ago

Never underestimate the power of social networks in retirement! Great story!

DAN SMITH
7 months ago
Reply to  Jeff Bond

True that Jeff. I keep my dance card pretty full socially.

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