Retirement Reconnections by Ken Cutler

Note: The following is an abridged version of an article I wrote months ago but never submitted to Jonathan. It’s from my ‘Shelved Articles’ archive. 

RETIREMENT CAN BE a time for reconnecting with old friends. I’ve always enjoyed keeping up with pals from my early years. Of course, many friendships have fallen by the wayside as time passed, but I value the long-term connections I’ve been able to maintain.

I had a habit of saving nearly every personal letter I received—back in the days when handwritten missives were a thing. I have hundreds of letters I threw in a box 30 to 40 years ago, telling myself that they would be fun to reread when I got old. I guess that time is now. I’ve enjoyed making copies of some of the letters and sending them to the authors, allowing them a glimpse of their younger selves. It’s a small way of keeping old connections alive.

During my childhood in New Jersey, I had a best friend named Scott who lived in the house behind ours. We rode bikes, played with Matchbox cars, celebrated birthdays and got into trouble together. He had two sisters—one younger, one older—and two older brothers. His two brothers and the older of the two sisters were friendly with my three sisters, who were all considerably older than me. When I was seven, he and his family moved away to Florida. I can still picture the family’s wood-paneled station wagon backing out of their driveway while I sadly waved to my friend. We exchanged a letter or two, then lost touch.

Three years after Scott had moved, my parents and I took a vacation to Florida. As my dad and I exited our hotel on the way to the beach, I spied a kid who looked strangely familiar.  We passed by without any kind of exchanged words or glances, but I felt compelled to turn around and get another look. I found that he was staring at me.

No words were spoken as my father turned around to see why I had stopped. He looked at the tow-haired boy who held my attention and asked, “Is your name Scotty?”  “Yes,” Scott replied to Dad. “Do you want me to get my mother?” One of his brothers drove us to their house and I ended up spending the rest of the day with my old friend. After that, we lost touch again.

Over the years, I pondered that unlikely encounter and wondered about Scott and his family. Every so often, I would go online to see what I could find. I’m a pretty decent internet sleuth. Still, I could not find any information about Scott. His surname is pretty common. A few years ago, I gave it one last try. I sent texts to various phone numbers which I thought might belong to Scott or one of his siblings. After sending one final text that got no response, I gave up.

Several days later, I received a cautious response to one of the messages. It turned out to be from Scott’s oldest brother, Ned. A few days later, Ned and I had a video call for 90 minutes and caught each other up on our families’ histories. Ned had been a friend of my sister Carol and was sad to learn she’d passed away at age 61.

He filled me in on his parents (both deceased) and caught me up to date on his four siblings. He didn’t tell me too much about Scott, though. Rather, he gave me Scott’s phone number so I could find out for myself. A week or two later, Scott and I were able to reconnect over a long, animated phone call. It was a great experience—I think for both of us.

I have a fantasy that someday an old friend from my distant past will stumble across my HumbleDollar articles and reach out to me. If that’s you, please let me know in the comments section below.