Silver Valley Day at Salem IHOP

That's right.

Roger, Scott, Kirk, and I went to the Sunnyside Drug lunch counter for a meal before every ninth grade basketball game.

Cheeseburger.
Mashed potatoes.
Grape Crush.

Jan Herd was our waitress.

And that's right. My senior year at KHS when we thumped Post Falls at home in Andrews Gymnasium, in the fourth quarter Post Falls missed a shot and we started a fast break and as I ran to fill the middle lane, Roger fired a passed intended for Scott and hit me in the side of the face.

Not long later, I sprinted down court after another missedTrojan shot and Scott heaved a high arcing three quarter court pass, I circled under it, and it hit me on top of the head.

The gym went quiet for a split second and heedless laughter broke out.

I fake staggered toward the Kellogg bench, Coach Emheiser comically put smelling salts under my nose, I sniffed, straightened out my gait, and play resumed.

The laughter intensified.

Oh, yeah, it came back to me that when I was twelve years old I homered in back to back Little League All-Star games, first off Dave Kraus against Valley and the next day off Steve Rife against Wallace, a game we lost in bottom of the sixth inning.

It all came back.

This morning I had breakfast with Scott, Terry, and Roger.

Roger and I were born two days apart in the Wardner Hospital in 1953.

Scott and I first met in Sunday School before we'd started kindergarten.

I've know Terry since I was eight years old and the eight years old baseball team he played for arrived at the field packed in his dad's Bogey's Bread truck.

Here we are today:

Terry, living in Gladstone, flying all over the country and the world for Xerox when he's not building fly fishing rods in his home or teaching kids to fly fish at a Trouts Unlimited camp on the Clackamas River.

Roger heading up the Workman's Comp. team of attorneys for the State of Oregon.

Scott teaching P.E. for special needs kids in Spokane.

Me, teaching away at Lane Community College.

We don't get to see each other often.

When we do, we're a band of brothers.