I was six years old. The year was 1970. The date, September 8th. This I know.
Yes, it was that week when almost every year finds the days warm (as long as you’re in the sun) and the nights cold enough to see your breath. That’s how the weather works in early September on the mountains of central Pennsylvania, were I grew up. I often thought it might be what purgatory is like if your destined for hell… frozen over.
It my first day of school — ever — that I met the person who turned out to become a lifelong friend. His name, Grey Hubler. I wonder if he remembers how we met? I do, but I can’t really tell you why this stuck with me; let alone even why it was burned into my brain’s memory cells that morning of September 8, 1970… some forty-three years hence.
Memory Lane.
The bus dropped off my older sisters and me then we made our way to the auditorium, until the other buses arrived. We each carried those old metal lunch boxes. Mine was a circus theme, complete with matching soup thermos. It’s silly now, but I was deeply embarrassed by it. You see, it wasn’t a cool Partridge Family, Brady Bunch, Barbie, or Hot Wheels one… that my sisters scored. Hey, I guess maybe my mom just wanted to see if this whole “school” thing would work out for me. Nope, let’s get the boy the Murphy’s 5 & Dime special and see if he can even make it to lunch, I bet she thought.
Anyhow, that’s were we first met. In the old Morrisdale elementary school auditorium that was abandoned just two years later for the larger centralized one that served the entire district.
Ours, like most friendships, waxed and waned… but never stopped. I remember so much… so fondly.
The stories are many. I recall the two of us, as second-graders, challenging (and beating) the sixth-graders in schoolyard football. To be clear, we would only play tackle. As it turns out, this was foreshadowing of our high school varsity gridiron days. He was the quarterback and without him I never would have tasted such success as a receiver — I also played defensive back, kick returner, and gunner on the kickoff team; I only left the field when we punted— but my buddy was too valuable to the team to risk injury. We set records together that might still be standing to this day. Glory days, for sure.
Our teacher who I was speaking of before, Mrs. Howe, loved us, but she was not one to spare the rod. Ah, the good ole’ days of paddling… not. We were paddled for all the dirt from recess on our clothes (and us). We often got it for not hearing the bell to even come back to class! It was a different era back then with discipline. Can you believe every morning we were led in prayer?
I laugh when I remember when Mrs. Howe stacked the chairs and desks along the wall to clear the room for what can only be described as “Spelling Bee Baseball”. Basically, if you spelled a word correctly you would reach first-base safely and hope to be advanced by your teammates. Incorrectly spelled words were out. Three outs and the other team took its turn. This was the one, and only, time we played this… because of my buddy…. and the slippery hardwood classroom floor… and the stacked furniture. I still giggle about him sliding into (and past) third-base, right into the stacked furniture. It was instantly un-stacked. The result can only be described as a calamity.
We shared so many unforgettable experiences.
Facebook and Funerals.
We served as Altar Boys together, giggling as we stood by the forced-air heater that puffed out our vestments and then imitating our morbidly obese priest (I feel bad about that now). I remember how angry my buddy was that we were banned from carrying lighted candles when serving funerals (because it dripped wax on the carpeting).
Andy, Ken, Bill, & Grey all together for the last time at our high school graduation.
I’ve only seen him once since we graduated high school in 1982. It was for just one night over the Labor Day holiday of our Sophomore year of college. We went off to separate colleges and fell out of touch for decades. There were times when I tried to locate him (like my wedding), but never could until Facebook came along and I joined it in 2008 or 2009. Ryan set me up on it and immediately friended me. My buddy was right behind him as I looked him up that first day. We reconnected immediately and it made me sad for the wasted days of falling apart.
Through these tough times over the past four years he would occasionally send me an encouraging word. It means a lot.
But, yesterday was my turn. Sadly, I know exactly how he’s hurting. Here’s how it went down:
Grey H: Gannon [younger brother] died yesterday, he was 46. Just wanted to let you know. He had cirrhosis of the liver, and kidney failure, brought on by alcohol. I’ll try to talk about it more later, as you have your own pain, which I respect.
Ken: Grey, Experience tells me there is nothing I can say to help you. It’s just too much to cope with and I know this. Please know how deeply this affects me. Send my love to your dad, please. You got this, my friend!Grey H: Thank you Ken. I hope that you’re not angry that I reached out to you.
Ken: On the contrary… I’m honored that you thought of me. It let’s me know that we are both sharing immense grief together.
Ken: Do you remember him being with us (you, me, and Bill) when we painted that huge, brilliant, white “Class of 82” on the school’s field house roof? It’s still so funny to me that we used a paint-roller! It came out like the block numbering on the old scoreboards…Do you recall how hard we all laughed? We could barely run away!
Grey H: God, thank you so much Ken. That was so incredibly touching. I’m struggling right now to find any words for what I’m feeling, this grief feels like a wave that stifles me when I try to speak. In time I’ll have more words but for now, that was so beatiful, and true, and brought back the best times of my life in youth.Ken: You just keep looking downfield… I’ll protect your blindside.
Then I thought to myself, just like “Team Diviney” does for me.
Words… So Inadequate.
You know how it is when you can’t find the words for me? I get it… I felt the same with Grey. I hate to see him hurting. It just makes me sick to know this good man is grieving. He loved his younger brother — his ONLY brother — with passion and protection. In return, his younger brother adored Grey. Outstanding siblings from superb parents! The memory that drives this home is how Grey’s brother stood, mesmerized, looking at his stud quarterback bro’ leading the football team into battle. I remember Grey reaching out and squeezing his hand as he ran by.
There’s just nothing that I think that will help. Words will never make it right. Why in the hell is it I have no idea what to say? I suppose it’s best not to pretend I do. You’d think I’d know what works by now, but I don’t.
What I do know is remaining quiet because I’m stumbling to write a thought is not the way to go. In fact, it can be downright worse than saying something silly. It’s not necessarily the word’s meanings that help, but the knowledge that others are here for us…
Through their words.
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Ken,
I just took some time to review the site in greater detail. I had no idea. Such amazing acts of love you and your family perform on a daily basis. I can only offer words of support and love to you as you extend such warm loving thoughts and memories for Grey and Gannon. I am so glad you are there for him in this time and can help him with what must be overwhelming emotions.
Thank you!!
Absolutely Beautiful !
I hope the Diviney Family enjoyed Thanksgiving with the whole family being together. Continually praying to God for Ryan and his family. God Bless you.
Ken, your writing amazes me!
🙁 Whew! This is exactly how I have felt for the last 3 weeks. People telling me how sorry they are that my father in law died. Really? You are sorry, what did you do to kill him? Did you know what he did and what would be handed to us exactly 2 weeks later?
Even I had no idea what to say to my husband about his father passing. I would say how sorry I was and he asked the same questions. Only difference is I had a long string of things that I could have done to save him.
Grey, I am so sorry for your loss. No I could not have done anything for him. I will tell you that I have learned from him, I will not be partaking in certain activities any longer. I know that doesn’t help and it doesn’t bring him back. I will carry your grief with me in my heart.
Ken I sincerely hope we are your blindside, that we push you and give you that support you need. It never feels like any one person (me) is doing anything directly for you. The yard sale crew is amazing, the Grace Singers are huge, fundraisers are amazing, your friend who ran for Ryan is incredible, the billboards, wow, but me, what have I done for you directly or for Ryan directly? I don’t really pray any longer, had a crisis of faith that proved evil abounds. So I rely on my own heart and the goodness that I know is in it. With that I wish to be your blindside, I wish to be the wind that blows sunshine up your skirt when days are bad.
Grey, condolences. Ken,condolences to you too.
Cheated! At least that is how we feel when we lose a loved one so young. I am very sorry for Grey and his family and for you, Ken. Thank God you guys are here for each other, and Team Diviney is here for you, too.
Alcoholism is a devastating disease. When our loved ones end their life with abuse of alcohol, we will always wonder if there was something we could have done to change the outcome. The answer, of course is, “No!” It is very difficult to treat and has a high fail rate in re-habilitation, I am sorry to say. it is a life-long struggle for family, friends, and the suffering from alcoholism of the person most of all. We need better solutions to treat it–and money–always about the money! It is the same with Traumatic Brain Injury, as we here have come to know, if we didn’t already.
I can see that you and your old friends cherish one another, Ken. You are here for Grey as he is for you. And so are we, Ken and Grey–so are we!
Many of us send our condolences, Grey, and we have been where you are. Love and prayers for you and your family with our deepest sympathy.
Make new friends, but keep the old. New friends are silver, but old friends are gold.
Tears for you Grey. Oh, Ken–I surely do know about having no words to console. When I come here, I cry, and though I think the words are mostly inadequate, I write them to convey my caring for you all. They have to take the place of actually being physically present there with you. So, we all write. SHSP NGA ever. My love to you precious family, Annie
These waves of grief, at the moment, prevent me from elaborating, but for any of you on Team Diviney who have not read his words, please take a second and read them. I’m extremely fortunate to have such a great man, as my oldest friend.
Love, Grey
“God understands our prayers even when we can’t find the words to say them.”
I find this to be true, even with friendships. When words might escape us, our friends still know that we care.
Sharing your memory of Grey’s brother was a perfect way to let him know you love him and his family, and I’m sure he appreciated it very much.
And, as always, your words have moved me. Salt-laced tears spill onto my desk, and I look up to our dear Lord and ask Him to comfort Grey and his family. And you, and yours.
Love,
carla
We are meant to help bear one another’s burdens and come alongside friends who are grieving. Sometimes it makes all the difference in “getting through it”. What a blessing to have true friends with whom you can feel free to share your sorrows as well as your joys, without needing to find the “right” words. You just know each other’s hearts. Thank you for sharing this special friendship and your compassion with us, and please let Grey know that Team Diviney is lifting him and his family up in prayer for God’s comfort. I am so sorry for their loss
That’s hitting the nail on the head. There are so many of your posts that just leave me speechless and yes, tears as we’ll. I hope you know whether I post or not, I’m still here!
So kind of you to continue to think of others when you carry your own sadness . I think of your dear Ryan everyday . Stay strong Ken , you’re a wonderful guy .
I hurt every day for you and your family Ken. Another hurt has been plunged into my soul as Gannon was like a little brother to me. I still have fond memories of coaching him in LL baseball. I still tell stories to my current players of how hard and far he used to hit the ball. I remember the shorts ripping like it was yesterday, and playing tag up with a tennis ball in the Hubler yard. I guess as long as we have memories, we will always have smiles on our face, even in times of sorrow. Just reading your article, gave me just about all the emotions a person can have, all in just 5 minutes. God bless you Ken for being such a wonderful friend, to all of us, and God bless Grey and his family, and Gannon and his little boy. It breaks my heart.
Memories do bring smiles… and pain. It’s just the way it is when new memories can not be made.
I know that friendship and love for a friend, I mean a real friend, go hand in hand. Time goes and we go separate ways, have jobs, families, and never get together again. When we do meet again it’s like being home, true friendship never skips a beat. It is indeed something to cherish.
I do not know anything about what you and your family goes through in a day, but always know that I am here far away, reading about your family and praying every day is progress. You, Ken are doing exactly what I would be doing in your shoes. Loving, taking care of Ryan, being a great example to others, demanding justice, and being there for your family. I am in awe of you and your family, and Ryan. I too believe that he will come back one day, I pray its soon
I tried to make a face with a tear drop … did not work so I guess I’ll have to use my words …. I have tears in my eyes
I’m still here, and I’m still praying……not going anywhere, Ken — ever.