John

 I met John in the fifth grade, I think.  He was in my class with Miss Flynn.   We were in Sts Peter and Paul elementary school.  I remember I liked him.  We did not speak very much.  He usually spoke in English, I understood the language well but could not express myself fully.  At that time, before the school day would begin, we would line up outside where the flag is and recite the Pledge of Allegiance.  We had a little time before Sister Louise Angela would call us in.  She would then direct traffic into the school with a certain type of noise maker to keep us all in line. One time, a little before school started,  I met this guy who looked curiously similar to John.  I told Fabio: Hay dos (There are two!).  I had never seen them together.   Fabio then told me all about them.  One was John and the other was Frank.  They were approximately the same age.   I remember that specifically because I and my brother Carlos were also of similar age.  Frank and John were both in the same class.   I remember wishing Carlos and I were in the same class.  I do not know if envy was the right word but I did think they were fortunate to be together.    I remember John sat to my right and two seats behind.  One time he asked me for a pen and I was about to give it to him.  As I reached back I hit the edge of the desk with the back of the pen.  I jabbed myself in my palm and bled.   That was a bad idea.   I still have the scar.  That probably the only reason I remember John in that class.   

I got to know both John and Frank well.  They lived in a house, close to Coral Way and South from mine. My house was on their way to their home.  John and Frank walked to their home and saw me and my brothers playing football in the front yard.  They stopped to play.  This became a ritual.  Cousin George also came along.  We had a lot of fun.  The field was maybe 30 yards between end zones.  Going long meant a pattern of maybe 10 yards.  The south end zone was Julio Mechoso’s concrete driveway.  This was paved with very rough concrete.  There was a palm tree on the north end zone.  Instead of a flag we had a bush or what remained of the bush.    When you ran a flag pattern you had to be careful not to run into the bush.  When you ran a post pattern you would have to watch out for the palm tree.  A down and out would run into the sidewalk, or the house. We could not have a running game, or we could get hurt very badly with the driveway.  We played a lot during that time.  It was the most fun I ever had playing football.  It was great playing with both my family and John and Frank and Cousin George and sometimes other classmates who would join us.   

I am saying all this because this is the last conversation I had with John. He called me.  He wanted me to join him next year at LaSalle Bros Joe’s Stone Crab Feast.  It had just taken place.  Elvis invites me every year; I always want to go.  I hate to disappoint the young lady Elvis claims is expecting me. 

John and I had a great conversation.  We reminisced about playing football in such an intricate field.  I told him that occasionally, as I drive by my old house, I feel like asking the current owners if we can stop by, gather the gang, and toss the old football around.    We remembered old times in Sts  Peter and Paul, old times at LaSalle, old times at University of Miami.  It was like we were then.  I told him I would try to go to the Feast next year.  I explained to him about Carlos’s (my bro) illness.  And we kept talking. I was so grateful he called.  I promised I would not disappoint that young lady Elvis claims is expecting me next year and that I would see the gang then.   

Carlos passed two weeks later.   

A few days later my sister, Sister Rosa called me.  She saw John at St. Kieran’s.  He had stopped by to pray for Carlos.  She told me she was touched.  She told me they had a great conversation.   John then called me at my office.  He left me a beautiful voice mail message which I saved and will forever treasure.  

With this letter I am saying Thank you John.  

Thank you for calling me that day.  I was in a bad place, and you helped bring me back.  You made me remember the good times when all of us played together at the old house, running a post pattern, avoiding the palm tree and the stump with Carlos, Frank and Cousin George.  Thank you for the message you left.  Thank you for being a friend. 

Today I am proud to be member of my class.  The outpouring of good will, support and just kindness towards John. Frank and their beautiful family as they traverse this difficult time has been nothing short of impressive. Thank you all.  

I love you all.   

Best  

Moose.