About 26 years ago or so I was a stranger in a brand new school. This isn't unique, by any stretch, though I happened to be starting anew in a new high school as a senior.
My dad was serving a post in the Philippines with the US Embassy. After three years, he had the chance to move us back to the US, where I could settle into a high school for 2 years before going off to college. Or he could extend to four years, knowing that I would only have one year in high school at a new locale. Five years was not an option for him, career-wise. For me the choice was clear. Being the optimist that I am, I said let's stay here as long as possible--surely he could finagle that fifth year, I could hang with my cousins for another year, and I could graduate with my friends from my high school, and glory days blah blah blah.
Not.
So I'm sitting in this new high school in Arlington VA on the first day, a complete stranger, among kids who (in most cases) were together since elementary school. I felt like a complete tool, and figured it was going to be a long year. Sitting in front of me in homeroom was this quiet and nondescript guy named Tom. It was clear to me that he wasn't the most popular dude in school. He wasn't unpopular, either, just someone who kept to himself. In that first day, he helped me get my feet under me and, while he never became a good friend, he was quite a good acquaintance. Because of him the year didn't turn out too badly, in fact it was quite memorable on many levels.
I recount this because I ran into Tom today in Bethesda, as he quietly works in one of the nondescript high rises on Wisconsin Avenue for a mortgage company. I've seen him once or twice in the past, and talked with him at our high school reunion 5 years ago, and can only surmise that he's a bit of a loner making a decent living who has a good family around him, and seems to be doing fine. We made some small talk, and I know I'll see him again sometime, in downtown B-town.
Next time I'll be sure to thank him for helping me out, way back when.
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