Wil

I was a 15 year old about to become a high school sophomore. Wilmer was a couple years older.

The private school we attended had a working farm, and we were both assigned to work on the farm. The dairy part of the farm was tiny by today’s standards, with about 20 to 24 milking cows.

Wil’s job was to milk the cows, mine to irrigate. We were paid the princely sum of thirty cents an hour.

Since this was a private school, there was tuition, which was $22 a month for me. If I worked, even at thirty cents an hour during the summer, I could pay off a year’s tuition. It was a good combination.

Wil was taller than I, at 6’ 5”, I was only 6’. He was the center in our school’s basket ball team, and I was as little a jock as could be imagined.

Wil became an engineer, went to California and as far as I know made a fortune. After a divorce he married a gal from East Idaho and moved back to my state.

The first time I saw him after he returned was at our 50th graduation reunion. I asked him how he was. He smiled and laughed and gave me a litany of ills, including that he was on dialysis hours each week, and was waiting for a transplant, unless he died first.

That was 5 years ago.

I saw him again last night. He got the transplant and looks pretty good for an old guy (after all he is still 2 years older than me)! We spoke of many things. His mind and his speech both fast and nimble, mine seemed to be a bit lethargic by comparison.

We keep in touch in a rather awkward way, but it is good to see him and see that he is looking good. His wife is a delightful person. They seem very happy. I am glad for both of them.

Best to you my friend.