One of the challenges one faces later in life is the passing of friends … maybe especially, old friends. Because with old friends the history is so rich. The memories rush to mind. Tears well as I recount them in most cases. Not just for this person. But because it also brings your own mortality front and center.

A long time, dear friend of mine, Skip Gable died recently. We played baseball together, rode to school together. Went to classes together. Shared all those challenges a teen faces along the way. Skip was sincere. So handsome. I actually envied his good looks. Thought if I’d had his, I’d be chased by all those girls … who didn’t.

Gabe was captain of our championship winning, high school baseball team. He pitched. Threw what was known as a heavy ball. Hard to really hit hard. Gabe had guts. I do remember him letting a hard ground ball go through his legs during a game I pitched. Two runs scored. Lost the game 3-1. I remember him coming to the bench after his “boot.” He simply looked me unapologetically … no excuses. He was tough. Just part of the game. Gabe was … well, to put it simply … a pro in every respect. We both went on to college. Lost touch with one another. I went into the insurance business. He went into construction. I contracted him to build an addition to my home in 1980, seventeen years after graduating from high school. Knew, because I knew him … that the job would be done meticulously, beautifully. It was. No surprise. Gabe was always a very “stand up” guy and friend. I trusted him … implicitly.

Then maybe forty years out of high school. (Wow … 40! Really?!) In 2003. We ran into each other again. I was working one day in Malvern, Pa. Id traveled there from my home in Atlanta. My client and I went to lunch. “Baxter’s.” A casual place. There was Gabe! An embrace. He was as handsome as ever, though a little distant. “Wow, I said. You went into the restaurant business! Great” His eyes dropped. Soon I would know why. Skip didn’t own the place. He was there … waiting on tables. Curious. But I later learned he had been divorced, his construction company had failed. Gabe had fallen on hard times.

I saw him one other time. At our 50th High School reunion. He was fun there. But had to leave us early. To spend the weekend as a security guard at a local office park.While there is nothing wrong with waiting tables or serving as a security guard, most in our class went on to run businesses, became doctors, lawyers, community leaders. Waiting tables was simply … below Gabe’s pay grade.  I learned later there was some substance abuse, maybe. That distance I felt? Gabe was not fully the guy I once knew.The one I knew, remember, always had my back. Even when he let that baseball go through his legs. We shared common values, dreams even. Oh, he always got the pretty girls. Was a beautiful athlete. Just one of those people you knew you could always depend on. Even seventeen years out of school when I needed someone to build that addition on my home.

Tears well as I remember him. Perhaps his spirit is right here now … with me as I write this. Skip had a daughter. Never met her. But I’ll bet she’s beautiful. Fun. And if she has the character and integrity her dad possessed, I’ll bet she is quite a lady. Maybe I can meet her sometime and we can share thoughts. What a great guy and friend her dad was …