In a weekend full of one delight after another, probably the sweetest delight of all was the opportunity for Marshall and me to reconnect with one of our dearest childhood friends from Decorah, who is also a Luther classmate – Tim Ness. We had not seen him nor communicated with him in any way since our 5-year reunion twenty years ago, and it’s all but impossible to put into words what it felt like to be together again. (But of course, I’ll try.)
Tim and his family moved to Decorah when we were all in second grade, and his dad – like my dad – was a Lutheran pastor. We all grew up in the Daley Addition, a neighborhood very close to the Luther campus. Marshall was five houses south of me – and Tim was two houses south of him – so we were frequent playmates. And although all three of us probably deserved the designation of “nerd” Tim was the least nerdy of the three of us. While Marshall and I were both pretty shy and fairly awkward, Tim was quite outgoing and affable – much more of an outdoors, athletic kind of guy than either of us- and yet still a super nice, really smart guy who loved books, loved his telescope, loved to sing, etc. I’m sure I didn’t ever think of him exactly in these terms at the time, but I look back on him now and realize that he was an absolute prince of a guy and we were so lucky to have him as a friend.
That was true even on the day went we went sledding on a hillside on the Luther campus that was dotted with big evergreens. I was willing to be a passenger but not to steer- I was well aware then ( as now) of my limitations, and had no intention of trying to steer the sled. But at some point Tim decided that I was being needlessly cautious and that I was really missing out on some fun and excitement by not taking a turn at the front of the sled. But he was not able to seal the deal until he threatened to never allow me to use his telescope again unless I steered the sled at least once. So I agreed reluctantly – and sure enough, managed to steer the sled straight into a tree and broke my leg. Tim and Marshall dragged me down the street on the sled to our friends the Tlous – who called my house – and I was taken to the hospital from there, crying and scared but also silently pleased that my reluctance to steer suddenly looked like wise caution rather than spineless fear. Tim reminded me of the end of the story- that my folks gave me as a consolation prize for my mishap, a telescope of my own – – – and suddenly Tim’s threat to withhold access to his telescope seemed like nothing more than a joke.
And then in sixth grade, Tim’s dad accepted a call to a church in Slater, Iowa- and suddenly Marshall and I lost one of our very best friends. I can’t remember any talks with Tim about his moving away – but I can still conjure up the sick feeling I had in my stomach when I first heard the news that he was leaving – the same feeling I had when they finally moved and their house was empty. And of course, that same pain would be revisited two years later when my family moved from Decorah to Atlantic – and the three amigos truly were no more.
Fast forward to 1978 and freshman year at Luther- and Marshall and I were reunited there as roommates. . . and right down the hall of us, on the top floor of Ylvasaker dorm, was our old friend Tim Ness. Interestingly, our paths did not cross at Luther as much as I would have thought they might. . . . .although all three of us were active in campus radio. (Tim was first and enticed Marshall and me to join him, and so I owe Tim credit for getting me into radio.) Tim and I were in a play together- Tim and Marshall and I lived with some other guys in a campus house our sophomore year (not a frat house- just a house) – and Tim was in Nordic Choir with me by his senior year – but our respective pursuits ultimately took us in different directions. (Tim was a double major in biology and chemistry, I believe – so he was busy.) But we certainly still counted each other as friends- and I remember being racked with concern for Tim on our college commencement day when we learned later that day that Tim’s dad, right before the ceremony was to begin, had suffered a heart attack or something resembling one. And although he recovered and in fact was in the pulpit the following Sunday, his days were numbered- and later that summer, I remember picking up the Decorah paper in the barbershop, reading that Tim’s father had passed away, and crying right then and there for my friend’s loss.
Fast forward twenty-five years – – – and there we were again, childhood friends who had let all sorts of time go by (dare I say Foolishly let so much time go by) but now so thrilled to be together. And in such a moment, it’s so intriguing to think of the ways in which we are largely the same people we were (how funny to think of the three of us all ending up as college professors- Marshall at UW-Whitewater in theater, me at Carthage in music, and Tim at the University of Alabama in the field of anesthesiology.)- and also how different we now are – and how much we still feel like very close friends. . . if it’s indeed possible to be close friends without exchanging so much as a Christmas card in a quarter century. But I get the distinct impression that all this is about to change. What is it about approaching the age of fifty and one’s 25th college reunion that you start to look at time a bit differently – and cherish the prospect of reconnecting with those whose lives have gone off on other trajectories? If this reunion did anything for me, it was to remind me that I knew some great human beings at Luther and my life will be even richer than it already is if I can find a way to remain connected with them beyond the occasional class reunion. Life is too short and friends are too precious to settle for that.
pictured: Marshall Anderson, Tim Ness, Greg Berg, at our 25th college reunion dinner.