Another chapter of not judging the book....
Hello All,
With my days and nights changing to a new life style, I wondered how I would spend my time. Mornings filled with college class schedules and my nights with practice, my only option was to take a position in public service. I just graduated High School and was now heading into a path known only as “My Life”.
Once an Olympic hopeful, I remained a non-professional skater. Since a child’s age, I participated in every balance sport I could find. My skating included ice, roller, and boardwalk. Ice skating was practicing hockey, dance, figure, and speed. Then, when an ice rink could not be found locally, I spent my practice sessions in the roller rinks practicing hockey, dance, speed, and rexing. The summer months found the boardwalks in San Diego as I entertained the passer-by’s with my spot skating, in between my surfing sets. It was the early 1980’s and skating was a national rage. So many people, kids, flocked to their local rinks on Friday and Saturday nights with the dreams of having all eyes on them as they demonstrated their abilities, or meeting the “Right” person to share the rest of their life.
The summer of 1980 also brought great joy and sorrow for me. The joy was in the form of competition at Silver Cup. Pretty much a guarantee in my category, I was moving on, as I targeted the United States Olympic Men’s Team. The sorrow arrived one warm night as one of my closest friends was gunned down in a drive-by shooting. Randy was only 15 years young and shot by two fully grown adult males in the most cowardly and spineless acts. For these two did not act like True Men by standing up for his individual action, they just sped away in their vehicle not knowing they were being followed, and later apprehended.
Shortly after, every “news” paper in Southern California was on the scene. Considering this was my place of employment, we were instructed to remain quiet regarding the media. These “professionals”, “reporters”, people in a desire for historical accuracy decided the only avenue for their name to accompany this story was to interview any person on speaking terms. And, these “qualified journalists” did just that, talked with anybody. The very next day, my name appeared in the local “news” paper as being one of the victims. Not that I hold anything against these people, their position is a necessity, or that is what these people convince themselves as they “report” non-reliable shit. Again, weighing heavy on my heart and mind, I knew the need for continued practice as Silver Cup was only right around the corner on this timeline.
The team arrived to the location two days before the competition and we were excited to begin our rituals. The following four days contained much practice with little- to no sleep. Then, the night before the opening ceremonies we were allowed to have a night out. I did not sleep well for many reasons, one of which was the early awakening at 0400.
I had the most fun during the competition in the company of some major names. On the television, these people were superstars and now I am “goofing around” with these same, but, normal people. Though I was proud of my Tenth place, I did understand as Randy was always in the back of my mind. I knew he was with me that day, as I looked at the line up of competitors. My final outcome ranged in the best five percent in the nation. The spooky part came when I finally arrived back home. Some of my friends, who also knew Randy, asked if anything odd had happened while I was away. They said, little things changed, as if Randy were still with us. For example, when Randy would ride in Mike’s car, we would always put him in the back seat and he complained about the rear seat belts being under the seat and not at his ready. While I was away, the seat belts found their way to above the seats without assistance. Did I mention, I had a crush on Randy’s sister, Michelle? Well, we never went out again following these events.
There are times when I wonder how, or where, Michelle is in her life. I never wonder about Randy any more, for I know in my heart of hearts how, and where, he is in this next stage of life.
Be Safe,
Reach
With my days and nights changing to a new life style, I wondered how I would spend my time. Mornings filled with college class schedules and my nights with practice, my only option was to take a position in public service. I just graduated High School and was now heading into a path known only as “My Life”.
Once an Olympic hopeful, I remained a non-professional skater. Since a child’s age, I participated in every balance sport I could find. My skating included ice, roller, and boardwalk. Ice skating was practicing hockey, dance, figure, and speed. Then, when an ice rink could not be found locally, I spent my practice sessions in the roller rinks practicing hockey, dance, speed, and rexing. The summer months found the boardwalks in San Diego as I entertained the passer-by’s with my spot skating, in between my surfing sets. It was the early 1980’s and skating was a national rage. So many people, kids, flocked to their local rinks on Friday and Saturday nights with the dreams of having all eyes on them as they demonstrated their abilities, or meeting the “Right” person to share the rest of their life.
The summer of 1980 also brought great joy and sorrow for me. The joy was in the form of competition at Silver Cup. Pretty much a guarantee in my category, I was moving on, as I targeted the United States Olympic Men’s Team. The sorrow arrived one warm night as one of my closest friends was gunned down in a drive-by shooting. Randy was only 15 years young and shot by two fully grown adult males in the most cowardly and spineless acts. For these two did not act like True Men by standing up for his individual action, they just sped away in their vehicle not knowing they were being followed, and later apprehended.
Shortly after, every “news” paper in Southern California was on the scene. Considering this was my place of employment, we were instructed to remain quiet regarding the media. These “professionals”, “reporters”, people in a desire for historical accuracy decided the only avenue for their name to accompany this story was to interview any person on speaking terms. And, these “qualified journalists” did just that, talked with anybody. The very next day, my name appeared in the local “news” paper as being one of the victims. Not that I hold anything against these people, their position is a necessity, or that is what these people convince themselves as they “report” non-reliable shit. Again, weighing heavy on my heart and mind, I knew the need for continued practice as Silver Cup was only right around the corner on this timeline.
The team arrived to the location two days before the competition and we were excited to begin our rituals. The following four days contained much practice with little- to no sleep. Then, the night before the opening ceremonies we were allowed to have a night out. I did not sleep well for many reasons, one of which was the early awakening at 0400.
I had the most fun during the competition in the company of some major names. On the television, these people were superstars and now I am “goofing around” with these same, but, normal people. Though I was proud of my Tenth place, I did understand as Randy was always in the back of my mind. I knew he was with me that day, as I looked at the line up of competitors. My final outcome ranged in the best five percent in the nation. The spooky part came when I finally arrived back home. Some of my friends, who also knew Randy, asked if anything odd had happened while I was away. They said, little things changed, as if Randy were still with us. For example, when Randy would ride in Mike’s car, we would always put him in the back seat and he complained about the rear seat belts being under the seat and not at his ready. While I was away, the seat belts found their way to above the seats without assistance. Did I mention, I had a crush on Randy’s sister, Michelle? Well, we never went out again following these events.
There are times when I wonder how, or where, Michelle is in her life. I never wonder about Randy any more, for I know in my heart of hearts how, and where, he is in this next stage of life.
Be Safe,
Reach
posted by Reach | 8:31 PM
2 Comments:
Dear Reach...I love hearing the bits and pieces that made you who you are today. I love that you look inward but stay focused on the here and now. I too was a skater at one time, though never Olympic bound. No...those things were never for the baby of the family.
Thank you for sharing this chapter. Nothing here to judge but a very nice, warm and compassionate guy. ;)
Ciao for now...and yes, I checked out that link and enjoyed it very much. One day I will get the nerve to leave my mark.
Very good story Reach and I agree with Sideways Chica about the little climpses into your life...I enjoy them!
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