Bruce Chadwick
Time, it seems, used to be our friend. No longer. I do not know why early friendships often are not maintained and nourished as time goes by. Mike — Mikey – and I became fast friends for several years late in elementary school and junior high. I then went to Muskegon High School, and Mike went to Muskegon Heights. We lost touch with each other despite living so close and having had such a good bond in previous years.
Several things stand out in my mind about Mikey. First was his discipline, such as in delivering the Muskegon Chronicle to his paper route or practicing one or another sport. I remember walking over to his house and hearing the smack of a baseball slamming into Blackie’s catcher’s mitt…over and over again; or the thump, thump, and swish of a basketball dribbling on his driveway and looping into his basketball net; or Blackie motioning him to run a bit further and unleashing a football into his outstretched arms. I must admit that this sometimes made me jealous that I did not have the same experience. Although Mikey sometimes tired of Blackie’s drive, I am sure he was grateful for it later. It helped him become a star athlete.
During the time that Mikey and I were together, he was short. No, he was very short, and he did not like it. I think his mom and dad liked it even less and tried a variety of supplements to encourage his growth. I remember some licorice concoction that his mom thought would do the trick. He and I used to laugh about it. When he first tried out for the basketball team at Muskegon Heights, they said he was too short, despite his talent on the court. Then, I think in his junior year, he shot up 12 to 18 inches almost overnight. Was it the licorice, I wondered?
Behind the house across the street from Mike’s was a large field extending to Mona Brook Road. At some point, we started chipping golf balls in that field and then had the bright idea of turning it into a little golf course of maybe six holes. We used my dad’s rotary lawnmower to cut fairways out of the field grass (and weeds) and mowed the “greens” much closer to the ground. We buried a soup can in each green for the hole and added a numbered flag. We built a small cashier's stand (like a little news kiosk) with a counter facing the golf course. We made a sign setting forth our prices. I don’t remember, but it may have been $0.15 for six holes and $0.25 for 12. Linda made lemonade that we sold for perhaps five cents a glass. We ended up with a rather substantial clientele — family, friends, and neighbors.
I was astonished by Mikey’s energy and enthusiasm. I was impressed with his discipline and vision. I valued and learned much from his steadfast integrity. I can only assume that these are some of the many virtues that he passed on to his children, grandchildren, and other relatives. I cannot explain why I did not maintain a relationship with Mike. It is my loss. All I know for sure is that I am blessed to have known him, and I cherish my memories of him.
Bruce Chadwick