SYRACUSE PART 3

I Was a Bad Friend

SYRACUSE-Part 3

LeMoyne College, Syracuse NY

     I was a bad friend. My best friend, Ellin, whom I had met my Freshman year at a different college we both both attending in Maryland, had transferred to Le Moyne College, also in Syracuse.

     I started off being a good friend, with the two of us spending a good deal of time together, but always with her coming up to SU via public transportation.  This translated to a city bus all filled with seedy sorts of folks, a bus driver hitting the accelerator at speeds beyond legal and the prayer that one would arrive safely at their destination.

     Then, I became enamored with the rich lifestyle of the Syracuse University kids and began frequenting the local bars/clubs for the “All you can drink for $5” and dancing the night away. It was not my fault initially, that I thought a “Long Island Iced Tea” was in fact, simply going to be a regular iced tea in a fancy glass, thus making it “Long Island Worthy”.

     It wasn’t soon after downing two of them and feeling quite free on the dance floor that I discovered that said Iced Tea was laced with every imaginable alcoholic ingredient. I think the bar was “Maggie’s”? Or was it Poet’s?  It definitely wasn’t The Varsity, because that place had pizza and chicken wings. I had no idea what a “chicken wing” was and it didn’t sound like anything one should a. order or b. be excited about as the person said over the loudspeaker, “Chase, your chicken wings are READY!” Weird.

     Back to me being a bad friend. I did visit Ellin at Le Moyne and the fear I felt on the city bus always rose up in my esophagus and gripped my abs into a workout creating the “six-pack” look previously unknown to me.

     Once at Le Moyne, a Catholic college, I was struck at how Fresh Scrubbed everyone looked compared to the Syracuse University style of New York City chic. Ellin and I frequented the Ratskeller there, and routinely ordered “Travelers” which were gigantic cups of draft beer, topped off with visits to the juke box to play our favorite Bruce Springsteen tunes.

     Yes, yes, this doesn’t sound like “Bad Friend” yet, but my visits fell off and when she was struck with tonsillitis and confined to the school’s infirmary, I did not visit. As I write this now, I feel the shame deep in my gut. She needed a friend to bring her soup, sit by her side, bring her magazines and most importantly, be there for her often. I recall justifying my absence with the inclement weather. 

     That is one excuse one cannot use in Syracuse as the weather is always inclement. The truth is, I was scared to ride the bus when there wasn’t a white out, but even more scared when there was. I was also very self-absorbed in frequenting the clubs to try and fit into a culture that seemed so “grown up” in which to shed my Rebecca of Sunny Brook Farm persona.

     Ellin left LeMoyne after one semester and returned back home to South Jersey. One day in my campus mailbox, there was a large envelope from her. Oh, I was beyond excited but upon opening it, was soon shedding tears and weeping an embarrassment and remorse I still feel to this day. She wrote that due to my selfishness, she was “letting me go as a friend”.

     The rest of the letter detailed all the times I had let her down that past semester. I made myself read it, even though I wanted to throw it away and not face up to the truths before me.

      People speak of the “wake up call” that begins their transformation into a better self, and her letter to me, was just that. I am sad to say, that it was not the end of my tendency towards a one-way friendship with her.

      I am going to spiral forward to September 11, 2001. I was a mother of an eight -month old and for some reason, had turned the TV on and had The Today Show on in the background. This was something I never did since having a child. I watched the first plane hit the World Trade Center, and then the second. My first thought was, “Ellin!” She live in The City.

      I knew, through our brief, periodic notes to each other, that she was a writer for TIME magazine and all I could think of was “Is she safe?”  I had no idea how to contact her, not having her phone number. The internet was still new, but I knew enough to look up “TIME” headquarters, and by some luck, had reached the main switchboard.

     “Please, I am an old friend of Ellin M., one of the writers there. I need to know she is okay. I, I know this is highly unusual, but please give me her home phone!” 

     The person who answered the phone, had a shaking voice, and said, “We have, Have been ordered to evacuate. I, I cannot give out personal information”.

     I began to cry, which then caused my baby  to cry, and I pleaded, “Please, please, she is so important to me. I need to know she’s alright!”

     The secretary gave me Ellin’s home phone and I called her. I reached her answering machine, listened to her message and then said, “It’s Mare. Just call me”, and I gave my home phone number, “ and tell me you’re okay, please”.

       A number of days later, she did call and left a message for me on my answering machine. “It’s me, Mare. I was walking across the Brooklyn Bridge covered in World Trade Center ashes when you called…my boyfriend was a firefighter and was killed leading his men up the tower to save people. I’m not ready to talk about it, but it means a lot that you called. Oh, and PD is alive too ( Remember, he was my old Naval Academy beau).”

     That day, September 11, 2001, changed her life forever. I poured over the old photographs from our Freshman year, and the few we had taken in Syracuse. I cried for the selfish person I was, for the devastating loss she had experienced, for the innocence lost and the many years I had wasted.

     Being a mother gave me a chance to truly become the best version of myself as I wanted my daughter to live life with someone unselfish. She made me brave enough to evolve.

      In order to evolve, I needed to confront what a selfish, self-centered person I could be and had been to Ellin.

      Oh, there were many more Syracuse stories in the second semester for me, but I am ending my Trilogy with this one. The loss of my best friend during second semester colored my life forever.

     I am still Rebecca of Sunny Brook Farm, only the much less selfish version than the 20th century version. Now, in the 21st century, I have expressed deep regret to Ellin and also truly dedicated myself to being the best mother I can be. Now, as my daughter is readying to finish her Undergraduate degree, I have carved a large portion of time to my writing.

     I finally wrote about my Army BRAT coming-of-age years as the Syracuse University Guidance Counselor had suggested all those years ago to do so. I truly acknowledged the amazing life I had led and was able to reflect on the lessons that “Place” can teach if we open ourselves to that power.

     When was a time you were a bad friend? This takes courage to admit, and then to write. It’s okay if you don’t want to do that in this forum. Thank you for reading my story and if you feel so inclined “Share” it with others.