Best Friends

Back in 7th grade, I attended a predominantly white Catholic grade school in Cincinnati.  We had recieved word from our teacher that another Catholic Grade (completely African American) School in Lincoln Heights was closing their doors and the kids from that School would be joining us.   

The first day they came to school, we played a pick up game of football at recess...us against them.   However, they didn't have enough players, so myself and another kid went on their team.  That day, I became the peace keeper of my school and I found myself connecting to the new kids in a way that most of my classmates didn't understand.  In the middle of it all, I became best friends with the leader of this group.  His name was Scotty Hutchings.

From 7th grade through our Senior year in High School, we found ourselves in all kinds of trouble, all kinds of fun, and all kinds of opportunities to grow.  I was the quarterback and he was the All State Tailback for Roger Bacon High School.  

Scotty's mom passed away during our sophmore year of High School and he came to live with my family in Forest Park for the better part of 2 years.  During that time, we grew even closer in our friendship.  

After our Senior year, I went to Toledo and Scotty went to Southern California for college.  But during that time, we both found ways of testing our freedom, but Scotty found himself in some trouble with the law and ended up dropping off the face of the earth for a while.  I tried to find him for 4 years (we didn't have the internet back then), but to no avail.   After getting on with my life and sure that He had gotten on with his, 21 years has passed.

Until Today!

Today, while I was in the shower, I received a phone call.  My wife said, "do you know a William Scott Hutchings?" followed by "is that Scotty?"  You see, I have been married for 17 years and my wife and children know about Scotty as I have talked about him regularly for the last 21 years.  "Yeah, Yeah, that's Scotty...why?"  "Well He just called and left 2 numbers where you can reach him, she said.

Within minutes I jumped out of the shower, cried and called my old friend.  

Turns out Scotty was in town to bury his sister who passed away from a heart attack recently and that brought to mind the death of his mother, his past, and our friendship.  He told me he was shaking when He called because of how abruptly he was taken away from me in a police cruiser, and how he had thought he let my family and I down.   I told him that it could have been either one of us at any time taken away in a police cruiser at that point in our lives.

We met for lunch today.  I don't think I have ever hugged anyone as hard as I hugged Scotty today.   We spent 2 hours catching up on his life, my life and the bond that we shared as boys.  One black, one white, from different worlds that taught each other the value of people simply for the fact that we are both people.   During our lunch, we laughed, we cried, we talked about the paths that our lives have taken us down, and we committed to each other that we would walk this life out together from here on.

I have missed my brother for a long time.  My children will know him as "uncle Scotty" but I will always know him as my best friend.  So if you see me cruising around Cincinnati with a big black man with dreads, just say hi to my brotha from anotha motha.  We are "each others people" and I would imagine, even though we're both 40, we will probably still get in a little bit of trouble from time to time.  At least I hope so.