Wednesday, May 21, 2008

Good night, sweet prince

I learned yesterday that a childhood friend of mine has died. Erik Ray, computer genius, all-around genius, trike enthusiast and bird-lover, was struck by a car a couple of weeks ago while he was riding his recumbent tricycle. He later died from his injuries, leaving his wife, Jeannine, and several pet birds.

His funeral was last week, and I didn't know any of this until after the fact. He lived in Saugus, just north of Boston. Close enough for me to have paid my respects, had I known.

Erik and I weren't best friends as kids. I think much of that had to do with the boy-girl thing; I hung out with the girls, he with the boys. I always thought him a little odd, but there were a lot of us in the Delphi program that were that way. He was always kind to me, most notably when he volunteered to play the part of Prince Charming to my Snow White in our 5th-grade play. When the cast list was announced, no other boys wanted to be the prince, making for one very embarrassed and upset princess. He gallantly stepped forward and didn't seem to care what anyone thought. And I was eternally grateful, not only for his saving me from being a prince-less Snow White, but also for his careful pantomime of the kiss that broke the spell of the poison apple. My ten-year old reputation was safe with him.

We lost touch after 6th grade, but found each other around the time leading up to the Delphi reunion, two years ago this month. He didn't attend the reunion, but he and Jeannine did come for a visit last summer, when Kathleen and her family were here. It was great to see him again.

Over the past year or so, Erik and I had corresponded fairly regularly. He was very encouraging of my writing, and I trusted his instincts completely when he made comments and suggestions. He once told me that a lede I wrote was the best opening sentence he'd ever read.

I hadn't been in touch with him much lately. I had been thinking about sending him an email about some new writing developments, but I hadn't done it yet. And now I can't.

Thirty-nine is too young to die, to leave a widow behind. I hope wherever Erik is, he's riding a fast, flat course with no cars or potholes. And a bird or two on his shoulder.

1 comment:

jbestine said...

Julie, I wanted to get a hold of you, but couldn't remember your last name, nor could I get the info from Erik's computer since it was on the bike he was riding when he was hit. We both had such a great time at your house last summer and were looking forward to doing it again some time, hopefully when he got better after the accident, but that was not to be.

Now, my best friend is gone, my soul mate. I don't know how to live without him. But I like the story you told. That was Erik through and through. He never cared what people thought of him, but was always concerned what his friends thought of him.

Right now, I'm in Buffalo with my family trying to come to terms with this. I don't think I ever will. He was my prince charming, and we were suppose to live happily ever after. Now what do I do?

In any case, feel free to get a hold of me. I'm not sure when I'll be back, but you can email me at jbestine at mac dot com.