https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PKGBuwISjCg
(Play this while you read this post.)
I had a pen pal for a couple of years in high school. I met Karl at a music camp and he played the trombone. I can’t remember details about our meeting or what started our conversation that lasted so many years. He lived in Washington and we saw each other at summer music camps and during a few visits he made to family in the area. There were long walks and sad goodbyes, one at a train station where his sister placed coins on the tracks for a keepsake to give to me. The bulk of our friendship was built with ink, paper and stamps. We wrote long letters, but eventually I stopped writing. He came to BYU and we met several times during our years there.
Karl is an accomplished musician and has been a member of the President’s Own Marine Band for 14 years. The band came on tour to our high school last week and I was able to talk to him for a while during intermission. This is the song they played right after we talked, and it was the perfect accompaniment to the bright light I felt about my youth and this friendship I made through music. I am grateful for this friend who was a real gentleman to me.
I hope my children find (and be) good and decent people like this to fill their memories in their high school years. No one seems to write letters anymore, which is a shame. Some of my favorite relationships have been held together by writing.
Do you want to see a picture?
