MY FRIEND BOB

I have had a penchant of writing about people whom I respected, admired or just genuinely liked. Bob Johnson was one of the above --maybe all of the above. He was married to my cousin, Barb and our family came to know them when we came to Minnesota in 1963. They opened their arms to us and our kids and we spent many very enjoyable times with them at their home but mostly at their lake place in a northern part of the state. Bob was a very interesting man-sometimes sullen or grumpy but when you knew him, this was all a sham. For some reason, he would pretend to be characterised as a uncooperative person but the minute you asked him for some form of help, he was immediately ready with his tool belt. He had been a gymnast for the University of Minnesota and there was still a semblance of his athletic body but as is the case in many of us, as his hair disappeared, his stomach seem to compensate. He might be leaning toward portly but again it meant nothing when it came to being of service for someone--possibly even a stranger. I can't tell you the many time he came to my assistance maybe in the construction of my back yard shed, my family room and sundry other things. When I needed help, he was the first one I called, no, the only one. And I was not unique! Was it his ego that propelled him to be of assistance to others? I doubt it. Under that gruff exterior he was a people person and he would always find time to be a friend. What a wonderful accolade that was. He died about two years ago and I miss him a lot! He was my fishing buddy and we managed to get in a trip to some nether region to try to catch fish for the 40 years of our relationship. He had spent about three years building the cabin I spoke of and I mean building. He was a most handy person and it didn't matter the problem, he would find a way to take care of it Carpentry, plumbing, electricity were all a part of his talents and we were the recipients of all of those at some time or other. I could go on a long time extolling his virtues or his talents but suffice it to say Minnesota will never be what it once was. In many ways Bob was the catalyst that enlightened our lives in those days that have past. Sleep well Robert, I know you are carrying your tool belt around even now.

MY BEST FRIEND

I have spoken before about the good friends that I have been fortunate enough to have but of them all, Nick is really my best friend. It all happened on a tennis court playing with Paul. It seemed each week when we scheduled our game we were placed on the court adjacent to two other guys. After several weeks in which we were friendly enough to exchange greetings, one of them came to my locker row and asked, "How much tennis are you playing"? I replied, "only once a week". He then said, "well, my name is Nick Camm and I would like to play once a week with you". To make a long story somewhat shorter, I agreed and we began to play. Now as it turned out, I found his favorite expression after I hit the ball was to shout "OUT"! It became my favorite jibe at him on many occasions. Of course the ball wasn't out. It could be in the middle of the court and if he knew he couldn't return it---- "OUT"!

He turned out to be a very friendly person with a great sense of humor who laughed at almost everything I said. I could have said "I have a large boil on my butt" and he would think it hilarious. But that was his personality. Everything was funny to him. He became my best audience for my humor and my jokes. As a matter of fact, I could tell him a joke and he would laugh. I could tell him the same story two days later and he would laugh some more as though he had never heard the joke. Either I was a poor teller of tales, or he had a bad memory or maybe he just liked to laugh. I think that was the case and I went on telling stories and he kept laughing. He and I and two other guys also played golf, and Nick, who was older than the rest of us would tee off from the Ladies tee. He would also put a tee in the ground each time he hit the ball except of course on the green. It was a constant time of ragging on each other with Nick catching most of the flak. He loved it. He used to brag that he had shot an 80 at a tournament on a different course which, with his handicap gave him a net 60. Of course it was the low score of the day. We never accepted that as a fact. We just kept saying, "You never shot an 80 in your life".

One day he even found the score card from that tournament and we said, "No way! You went to the course and got one of their cards and faked your score." It drove him crazy but he laughed at all of our digging and was fun to play with. He had a habit which drove me nuts, to go up to people he didn't know and they instantly started laughing. What did he say? Who knows? But they were laughing. I was saying, "C'mon Nick lets go", but he never paid any attention to me. He was on center stage and he was milking it for all he could get. Nick would go up to people in a theater and ask if he could have their popcorn and they laughed and offered it to him.

I could go on a long time talking about my best friend. He was a Jew and the two of us made an interesting couple. The Jew and the Mormon! But Nick is no longer the man he was. He is living in a facility and stays in his room and naps or watches TV. The man was the most gregarious person I have ever known. He only laughs when I call him, and when he does I laugh with him. I miss him a lot and always go get him when I go back to Minnesota and we enjoy our relationship. He is 93 now and the spark he once had is fading, but each time I call him when I hang up I always give him one more shout "OUT' and he laughs!!

NO FINER MAN

It has been my privilege to know many fine men during my activity in our church but none have been finer than the man I came to recognize as my mentor. My first real acquaintance was when, at the eve of a conference, he had Louise and I meet him at his office. He was the of head our multi-unit (Stake) and he asked that I become his clerk. At that time my experience in the church was somewhat limited and I asked what my duties would entail. After his explanation, I replied, "I can't type and my hand writing is terrible. I have little or no knowledge of accounting and my church experience is quite limited, but if none of that bothers you, I'll take the job". His reply was a phrase I came to use often in some of my other positions ---"Well, look at all you will be able to learn". He was obviously a more skilled negotiator than was I.

Strangely, it was in a club shower room that I came to know him very well. I was giving up racquet ball and had decided to learn to play tennis and when I mentioned this to him, he said "I'll be glad to play tennis with you". That was the beginning of a friendship that went on for several years and we played tennis every week over that period. During some of my later positions in the church he and I would sit following our game and I would tell him of some of the obstacles I was facing He would advise me on possible solutions. This was a practice that lasted for a long time. It was during these and other meetings in which I was included that I came to fully appreciate his leadership qualities.

I knew him as a friend but under certain conditions he came forth as a man of deep devotion to his position as a leader of his large group of congregations. I would sit in these meetings taking minutes and was rewarded with getting to know the other two councilors that were his associates, Everette Manwaring and Alan Anderson. The three of them were magnificent in their endeavors to lead the aforementioned congregations and I was the recipient of their combined knowledge and efforts. These qualities brought about an organization that remained unequaled for many years, In particular, Paul Wilson led with a calm, experienced hand. He was a man of honesty, integrity and industry. He had a love of his family that, while his demeanor was sometimes very reserved, was the catalyst that allowed him to be such a great leader. To some, less knowledgeable of these qualities than was I, he may have appeared almost embarrassed to stand forth as the head of this large group of congregations, but to those of us who had come to know him, he was admired and respected. I am honored to call Paul Wilson my friend and my mentor as well as my spiritual leader. I have known and been acquainted with many men having most of the qualities mentioned before, but in my estimation there was no finer man than President Paul Wilson.

SOME OF MY BEST FRIENDS

After leaving the military, I became a menswear Maven. That's a Jewish expression for "expert". Oh, it didn't happen all at once, but as some time passed it became apparent I was destined to be in Men's clothing in one form or another. But that is not the story I want to talk about at this time. My story is my relationship with the Jewish people. As I became a buyer of Menswear, I quickly was closely tied to various Jews. That was the business they were in and I soon got to know Sid, Manny, Charlie and Hoybie. (That's N.Y. for Herbie) That is only a few I grew to like and with whom I did business. There really isn't much difference between a New York Jew and a mid-western Jew except in a form of speech or other mannerisms that we all have. Example: I invited a young man in my Wisconsin store to come and look at a certain vendor's neck wear. He demurred, saying, "I don't like him. He's a New York Jew". Now Danny is Jewish and so this surprised me but I went on to say I needed some help in making a selection. I really didn't, but it was a means of encouraging him and to allow him to see the geographical difference is minor. To shorten the story, several weeks later, when this particular vendor was due back in my store, I mentioned to Danny that he was coming back and I now was surprised to hear him say, "Yes I know. He is staying at my home while he is here". So from --I don't like him, to having him in your home was certainly a quick transition. And that was the big difference; you had to get to know them. Isn't this true of all people?
However I want to speak mostly of Herbie. He was not only a character in many ways but he was one of the best friends I could ever hope to have. When my store was announced it was gong out of business. Herbie was on the phone to me saying, "I don't want you to worry. I will hire you right now selling ties and I will pay you what you are being paid at your present job". Did that alleviate some distress on my part? Well, yes, but only because of his generosity and his concern. I was very confident I could get another job. Over the years I have received phone calls from Herbie about every 8 or 9 weeks. In all of those he has asked me to go to work for him and I have resisted, saying, "Herbie you are a friend of mine. If I go to work for you, we can't be friends". His attitude and the questions of all those and others as mentioned above, was typical. Were they concerned, they would no longer be able to do business with me. In part, yes but basically I was their friend and they were mine. After being terminated from my position at a major menswear business, Herbie was on the phone saying, "Come work for me". While I again resisted, in a year, without having been interviewed, I finally broke down when he said, "Jim, I need you. My CEO just left me and I need someone with your experience and stature". And so I went to work for Herbie but that's a story for another day. To summarize this tale , I still get a call from Herbie asking how I feel ? Do I need anything? While it is now more like every three months he calls, yet the bond of friendship was not lessened when I worked for him and it has continued through these many years. I pick up the phone and say hello and hear "Hi, its Hoybie"

MOYNSIE #2

About a year ago I wrote a post about Jim Moynihan, a Catholic character and my best friend. Why was he my best friend? Good question. He had a fascination for irritating others. His cynical nature was always at the top of his personality and, as I said before, he managed to alienate the 5 other couples that comprised our social group. He was left with me, his circle of friend.

I used that sarcasm when he and Kay arrived late one night and he stated he had hurt the feelings of one of our couples. He took great delight in admitting this. All the things I have mentioned makes one stop and wonder, "And he was your best friend"? Strangely he was, and I previously stated that I loved him. So therein lies a question not easily answered. I guess if I had to sum it up, it lies in his great sense of humor and my ability to be almost equally amusing whenever we were together. His family moved at the end of the same street where we had purchased our first home. I would look down to the end of the street and if I saw cars I would call him and pretend to be hurt because we hadn't been invited. It was part of the act we put on.

He was the master of conflict of interests. He had graduated law school --2nd in his class I might add, (his brother was first) and was working for an insurance company as an adjuster. He would go to the scenes of automobile accidents and give his card to both parties and in many cases act as the attorney for both of the principles. As a result he became quite wealthy very rapidly. Unsavory and unreal ? Yes, but the two different insurance companies never caught on for a period of time sufficient for him to not only make a lot of money but to build a client base that went on forever. Conflict of interest ? Of course!! That demonstrates somewhat of a nefarious character, but you must admit it also speaks to an effective result. It was not against the law, but somewhat the crossing of a thin line.

As to his humor he was at his peak at about 5:30 in the morning and I have never known anyone that was instantly funny as he rose from his bed. The times I stayed overnight or that we traveled together made for deliciously humorous mornings. As an illustration of his wit, we played golf one day and acting the part of a pawn, I mentioned to him when I saw a white round piece of dog poop. I pretended to act as though it was my ball and we both laughed. That evening after dinner at his home with the foursome that played and their wives, he parlayed my white (?) ball into a full blown dissertation about how dumb I had to have been to think that was my golf ball. It went on for a full 10 minutes while he extolled the humor of the situation. I could go on a long time about his questionable virtues but suffice it to say I was the butt of many of his remarks. But I gave as good as I got and in the end that was what he enjoyed. Trying not to patronize myself it was this that set me apart from other people he met. and it was this that solidified our friendship. We fed off of each other and it sure made for fun times when we were together.

He died of pancreatic cancer in South Carolina where he had retired following his divorce from Kay. I had a call one night from his second wife and she said, "If you want to see him you had better get here quick". I arrived that night fairly late and the hospital was dark and quiet. As I entered his room he was awake and in his inimitable manner said to me, "Can you imagine all this fuss over a hang nail". I guess he epitomized the phrase "Always leave them laughing" and while I laugh at the thought of him, there is a lump in my throat for what we could have shared these many years he has been gone. Moynsie, my faith tells me we will share some other times in another chapter. The book on the two of us is not yet closed. Be well my friend.