[July 15, 2011] You never forget your best friends Tweet Jul 15, 2011 (The Macon Telegraph - McClatchy-Tribune Information Services via COMTEX) -- The phone rang Saturday in the middle of a late-afternoon thunderstorm. It had been 43 years since I had heard the voice on the other end. "Is this the skinny kid from Sterling Point?" he asked, laughing. I could have picked Larry's voice out of a lineup, even after all these years. It sounded much the way it did in the sixth grade, only deeper and wiser. And here it was again, filling my ears across thousands of yesterdays. Larry and his wife, Mary Beth, had stopped in Macon on their way from Virginia to Florida. "We're finally here," he said, after they had parked on College Street in front of the 1842 Inn. I told him we would pick them up for dinner in 45 minutes. You can say what you want about Facebook, how people use and abuse it. I read where 750 million people are on Facebook. If it was a country, it would be the third-largest in the world. When used responsibly, it is a powerful tool to reach out to new friends and re-connect with old ones. This year, I taught an autobiography class at a local church. I shared a few stories from my childhood, about moving from LaGrange to Virginia when my father re-enlisted in the Navy. It was tough time for me. My dad would be going to Vietnam, and I was uprooted to a new place in the middle of my fourth-grade year. It wasn't easy being the new kid at school. Some of the children made fun of my Georgia accent. But not Larry. He became my friend, one of the best friends I ever had. We would ride our bikes and play along the banks of the Elizabeth River. He would sometimes spend the night. We would eat spaghetti, stay up late and watch scary movies. But we lost touch after my dad was transferred to the Naval Air Station in Jacksonville, Fla., then moved to Atlanta. I had always wondered how Larry's life had turned out. So, I typed his name on Facebook. Larry Comstock. His name and profile popped up on my screen. I was pretty sure it was him, now living near Richmond, but I sent a cautious friend request. "I hope you remember me. We were best friends in the fifth grade. If this is not the right Larry Comstock, please disregard this message." The next morning, he wrote back. He said he was so surprised when he saw my name he almost lost the message. "You have the right guy," he wrote. "Hearing from you and discovering where you are completes perhaps the largest missing piece in the puzzle that forms my past. Hearing from you is a genuine gift." I almost cried. Since then, we've been exchanging e-mails and catching up. Yes, a lot of water has passed under the Churchland Bridge. We have practically been living in parallel universes. We both ended up in the communications field. We love music and good food. Larry writes and records his own songs and has released three CDs. Interestingly enough, a lyric from one of his songs reads: "I wonder where my friends are now." He promised to visit me this summer. He made good on that promise. I could not believe we were going to be reunited. Delinda and I showed them our home and drove them around Macon. We sat in a corner booth at the Downtown Grill and, as Larry put it, took a "walk down amnesia lane." Growing up, he said I was the only kid he knew who read the newspaper. He remembered how I would spread it across the kitchen table, and encouraged him to read it, too. Funny, but I don't remember doing that. He considered it great advice. He began paying attention, and it ultimately influenced his career path -- first in broadcasting, then in communications for a major energy company. He said he still smiles when he drives by my old house in Sterling Point. I thanked him for being a part of my life. I meant it. After dinner, we went back to the 1842 Inn and ate cookies in the parlor. We took some pictures. It was getting late. I pulled Larry aside and whispered in his ear. I asked him to please mention something about me being the second-fastest kid in the fifth grade. That tall tale has reached legendary status in my family over the years, and I wanted Delinda to hear it from him. We all had a good laugh. Summer is a season of family and school reunions. This was a simple reunion of two friends who remember the way we were and appreciate the journey that brought us where we are. Reach Gris at 744-4275 or [email protected]. To see more of The Macon Telegraph, or to subscribe to the newspaper, go to http://www.macon.com Copyright (c) 2011, The Macon Telegraph, Ga. Distributed by McClatchy-Tribune Information Services. For more information about the content services offered by McClatchy-Tribune Information Services (MCT), visit www.mctinfoservices.com. [ Back To TMCnet.com's Homepage ]