Growing Up on Long island: Part Four

“Growing up on LI” is a catchphrase for how early life events influenced me in later life on how to act, or not act.

When I met Hope, I learned she was a runner. Well, not just a runner but an eight-time NY marathon runner, whose best time was 3:29:44! That’s good to say the least.

Me? Not my thing but wherever we went, in travel or home, running was her daily regimen and she stuck to it like a fly-to-fly paper. Sure, I could find a better analogy but this works for now.

She would run in foreign cities, much to my concern but runners have this ‘code’ and while language may not unite them, the sport is universal. One time, she got lost in Istanbul and a fellow runner in his try at English, managed to steer her back to the hotel. The unspoken bond.

I asked her who her heroes were. Mine were Alan Shepard, JFK, and Soupy Sales. Hers was 1972 Olympic Gold Medalist, Frank Shorter. I asked why: and she said “Running is not about running. It’s about routine and staying sane.”

She recalled the day her dad passed in 1995. A few hours after his death, she went out for a run in their Boynton Beach community. When Erica died, we came back to the house, sat aside quietly, and wondered what kind of life we would have. Then, she went running. She explained: “In chaos, routine is what grounds you and it brings you to a place you need to be.”

For her 55^th birthday, I wondered what to do for her. I was not going running, no matter how much I loved her.

I looked at shows in Las Vegas she might like, accidentally keeping my laptop open as I went to the bathroom. I also tried to think of who she really would want at a ‘surprise’ birthday party. I had a slew of special weekend locations for a quick getaway, again, tipping my hand.

The day before the special day, I had the maid come and hope excitedly assumed I was cleaning the house for a ‘surprise’ the next day.

I told her to come home from work early, another hint of something afoot.

When she came home and walked in, she expected a shout out from all her friends.

She looked disappointed but I said: “before you go out to run, I found you someone to run with.” She looked puzzled. I said “Frank?”

From my living room walked in Frank Shorter and said: “Suit up Hope, we’re going running.”

After the crying and utter surprise, she went to put on her gear and they went off.

Months earlier, being a great writer or at least that’s what people tell me, I wrote to Frank talking about Hope, how she admired him, her marathon history, and how with two impactful deaths, she managed to keep running amidst the chaos. It was routine that helped. I asked if he could come to Az and surprise her.

He wrote back and said:” Any man who would do this for his wife, I have to say yes.” I said I’d fly him in first class and he said he lived in Colorado and that coach was fine. I then said I’d put him up at a nice hotel near us and he said ‘I’m fine. I’ll stay at your place.” We all went to dinner that night and after a run the next day, I took him back to the airport.

A few weeks later, with Frank’s permission, a story ran in the Arizona Republic with the headline: “Arizona Girl Gets Olympic Gold Medalist for Her Birthday.” What followed were good-natured missives from many husbands angry at me for setting a new bar.

But before Hope came home that day a few weeks earlier, Frank and I sat in my kitchen.

He told me how in 1975, he was out with Steve Prefontaine (Pre) at a party with American and Finnish runners. Prefontaine left the party to drive Frank to a friend’s house. After dropping Frank, he descended a narrow road near the university. While in the extended right curve near the base, he crossed the center line, jumped the curb, and hit a rock wall. ‘Pre’ died a few hours later.

In 1972, in Munich, Frank had a fun, warm dinner with the Israeli Olympic team. With a bunch of hugs, he bid them good night and good luck the next day in the trials. A few hours later, in the early morning, members of the Palestinian terrorist group, Black September, kidnapped the Israeli team and murdered them the next day.

There is a teachable moment in these stories. Life is short and can end at any moment and for those ‘silly’ birthdays, anniversaries, graduations, sports medals, best quiz answers, amazing dinners, funny comedians on Netflix, and even the most boring or trivial of moments, there is something special to find in all of them.

Remembrance of people is also a teachable moment and when they bring a slight smile, along with a heavy sigh, they are also to be treasured.

(Next Up: My AU friend Henry said he wants the years 1973-75, when I transferred in)