Saturday, January 21, 2012
Paul and I walked to our bus stop daily during junior and at least a part of senior high, and we had many if not most of the same classes together for six years. He taught me how to play chess; I taught him a little something about tennis. And we had countless "deep" conversations about math & chemistry & people & books & trees & politics & religion & simply everything. We seemed to enjoy arguing as much as we enjoyed agreeing--at least most of the time. We lost touch after high school, but I will always be grateful to have known him at least for a while. If his sister reads this, I hope she will know she has often been thought of, too, and she's is certainly in my thoughts now. Shalom.