Dave and Alice

I’ll let that sink in for a minute….

Dave and Alice

Those two names, forever intertwined with each other and with me, during a certain portion of my life there was no Me without Them. Dave has been my friend since grade school. How we met or why I don’t remember. Somehow it seemed like we always were… friends. I know Dave played guitar. I played guitar or tried. Dave always  had a softer, more musical touch. As the years went on into high school and we made efforts to have a rock and roll band inspired by the Beatles, Dave always had a slightly different, more diverse understanding and approach to music. He knew about Bob Dylan and other folkies. He knew about the Village and other parts of New York. There was a time when going into the City was a kind of right of passage. Had you been by yourself or with friends and where did you go and why? Both our Dads worked in the City and still it was more of a mythical place. Then there came a time when we would head to Canal Street to cruise the pawn shops to look for electric guitars, amps and microphones. Me and Dave and Wink formed a band, found a drummer who could play Wipe Out and got jobs at the local Lutheran Church. We practiced every day. The Rhythm/Chords, leads and harmonies. John, Paul, George and Ringo did all the work, provided the template and the drive. We wanted to meet girls. As the years went by we did. We spent hours commiserating in Billies basement. He seemed always on the edge of a broken heart. Dave had a girlfriend simply referred to as The Chick. Again, they seemed to be years ahead of us in their relationship. Dave, Billy and I would pile up into Billies Black 56 Chevy V8 with the Hurst Shifter, 4 on the floor. We’d cruise up to Moonies across the state line where the drinking age was 18 and somehow we passed. 25 cent draft beers. As many as we could drink and keep down. We’d blast the music going each way then turn it down, dim the lights, pull up in front where I’d get out and sneak back up into my house. Thinking back it was probably Daves superior height and relative maturity that got us served at the bar. Dave smoked. I mean he didn’t just try it during a camp out like we all did. No, he smoked. I think he probably drank. He at least knew what drinking was. Dave always seemed older and wiser, more knowledgeable in the ways of the world, so much so that we called him the Old Man. He always served as a mentor to me. A person I looked up to literally and figuratively and a person I always felt that I knew and trusted. 

Well a few years later and we’re all at Oglethorpe College in Atlanta Ga. Dave had come down after dropping out of Syracuse. Dave was still our center, our kind of quiet leader. By now everyone knew about Bob Dylan but the Beatles still reigned supreme. Dave? Dave was listening to Judy Collins; Ive looked at love from both sides now and Bring in the Clowns. Dave was always deeper. 

One night one of the guys who took pride in being a ladies man, hooked up with some girls from the Massey Junior College of Fashion. I had my girlfriend with me in Atlanta so I only heard about it but of those girls several paired up with friends and got married; Kelly, Skoby, Billy, he had another traumatic love life going on… and then there emerged Alice, who soon became Dave and Alice. Dave and Alice survived everyone and everything. After graduation Alice came back to New Jersey and worked in New York for Dave’s dad, Hurst Firm Service. On occasion we’d go down to the Village to the Real Restaurant and go in or stand outside Cafe Wha?, The Bitter End and others to hear the hippie bands. Alice was everything Dave ever needed. A light in his darkness. A voice for his quiet reserve, an overt social energy for his quite and recluse. Back in Jersey, Dave and Alice became my dating supervisors. I would meet someone but whoever and wherever, school, work a Supper Club playing the Yamaha folk guitar I traded for my Gibson, I would bring the new girl over to meet my friends Dave and Alice. The funny thing was that she would remain friends with Dave and Alice long after we had broken up. In the mean time Dave and Alice were building a life together. They got Married. I loved and admired them for it and they never made me feel like a fifth wheel even though I was. But in my mind, Dave and Alice were my extended family. Whoever else there was in the world was superfluous. At the core there was me and Dave and Alice. I broke up with my girlfriend on the day of their wedding because I just realized that we were not them. I wanted to be them. No, not them exactly. I mean I wanted a relationship with a girl like they had with each other. I wanted to be in love and be married and build a life with a person but sadly that person had yet to show up. I had to let go of the ones I knew because I knew they were not the One.

View from the Hurst’s roof

Then they moved to Spartanburg, South Carolina and suddenly I was all alone. I was managing a Radio Shack in Bergen County but still living at home. I had the opportunity to manage a store anywhere in America because they were expanding fast. I packed up my Green Gremlin and moved to Hampton, Virginia. It was difficult but I felt like I needed to make a clean break, move away from home where I was all of too comfortable  and figure out how to make it on my own. Hampton was about 400 from New Jersey and about 400 from Spartanburg so there I was right in the middle. 

I did pretty well as a store manager. I worked very long hours but eventually got the store making enough money so that I could higher a part time employee. I did that and went to visit Dave and Alice. Here they were Married, with a house and starting a family and here I was, breaking up again because I was married to my job with the Shack, still searching. But during my visit to SC I got a job at the School for the Deaf and the Blind where Dave and Alice had arranged for my interview. I got a new job and a new life in Spartanburg SC all because of my friendship with Dave and Alice. I moved into a mill house duplex in Clifton SC. It was dark as we walked around. I paid with cash that I had saved from my job in Hampton. Don’t you want to look at the neighborhood asked Alice? No, we’re down south I answered. In my mind everything down south was good. The very first thing I learned was Wow! It sure does get cold down south as I huddled next to my little drip furnace. I turned the drip up as far as it would go and next thing you know it was chugging like a freight train. I called the fire department and luckily I’m writing about it 45 years later. My weekends were free and Dave and Alice would call me to go with them to the Farmers Market and to Biltmore Ice Cream in Asheville. I’d ride in the back of their metallic green pick up truck like it was a limo. The next girl I tried out for them was a Miss Tess Train Carter whom I had met in a Cedar Springs staff training ( different post ). They loved her. I definitely loved her and OMG here I am 44 years later writing about the whole amazing series of events. Dave and I got together for a “bachelor party” days before the wedding. As mentor he gave me his approval. Dave and Alice were the only guests at our wedding. The only two who we wanted, needed or who mattered. Dave and Alice were my family. So when Mom and Dad and Linda came down to be there for me, my family was complete. But no, I didn’t bring them with us on our honeymoon! So, the purpose of this post is to say Thank you Dave. And Thank you Mr. Hurst and Pat Hurst for treating me, a kid, like a full person. Thank you for offering me a cup of coffee when I came for a visit. Thank you for having a house in the Catskills where we could learn to become adults. Thank you Alice for marrying a yankee, leaving Asheville North Carolina, coming to New Jersey and establishing a home. And can you believe it? This many years later we are all here in beautiful North Carolina. All of us except Dave.

Dave, my mentor, my cynical, sarcastic yet soft, caring and kind hearted friend. Dave, you left us too soon but you did it largely on your own terms. You were good and you were strong, you were trusted and you were loved and you are missed. Dear Dave, you are missed.

One more song by Judy Collins that I still hear in the background on Dave’s Singer Stereo record player from the back of the dorm…