Remembering an old friend

From 1963 until 1966 when I graduated, I attended a Seventh-day Adventist boarding high school. Newbury Park Academy was located in the Conejo Valley just north of Thousand Oaks and just before the pass to Camarillo. NPA was a refuge for me from a pretty messed up family situation. I was 13 years old when I started my sophomore year.
My high school class was a collection of interesting people from various situations. Some were like myself, in boarding school to get away from something. Others were simply attending the Adventist high school closest to their home.
That was the case for my friend Chip French, whose family lived just over the hill in Oxnard.
Chip was a great singer. He was probably the best voice in our school. I was a first tenor, he was a baritone. With another couple of guys we formed a men’s quartet and sang together pretty much all through our high school years. Chip’s favorite trick was to grab the back of my pants and pull up when I was drifting off the pitch, usually when I went flat. I am not sure this ever actually worked. But that was Chip.
He was one of a group of guys who left girlfriends who were still in high school behind when they went off to college. The first weekend of the new school year after we graduated a bunch of us drove up to the campus from Riverside. On the way home my car broke down (something to do with the radiator) and we spent the night in the car at a service station. Just one of the many “bonding” experiences with Chip. Chip was part of our ongoing card games in high school and college. We sang in the choir and in college we formed a folk group, along with his younger brother and another friend and sang at some churches and youth groups.
The last time I heard from Chip was a little over a year ago by voice mail. He had come through Loma Linda and there was his voice going on about some “gig” we had to sing at a church. He was pulling my leg, but his voice was warm, it was the voice of a friend.
He loved to play golf and especially loved to boom out a big drive. He loved singing barbershop.
Chip and I were facebook friends and I would check in on his profile from time to time to see what he was doing. Once in while I would think about him as I drove through Westlake where he worked. He tried to help me buy a car a few years ago and we had a long lunch and talked about life.
I know that he leaves behind loved ones and family that were closer to him than I was. We were almost as close as brothers during our high school years. Living in the dorm with a bunch of other guys. Singing in groups together. Going on double dates at the cafeteria. When I heard of his passing a couple of days ago, it hit me harder than I thought it would. I’ll be at his memorial service today. I’ll see some other old friends. And I’ll think about a friend, who is gone too soon.