Buddy

Buddy fell from the tree, and that was that. Wait, there's more. In late April 1959, I met Buddy for the first time. He was about 50 days older than me. We became best friends over the next few years. When we were five, we had already decided that we would be best men at each other's weddings and godfathers to our children. To say we were best friends would be an understatement. How many people can say that they have a best friend who they've known since they were about two weeks old?

Mod Squad Buddy in the late 60’s

Buddy decided to climb a tree while taking a walk, as you do when you are five years old. A branch broke about three-quarters of the way up the tree, and he fell. While our families and friends were enjoying a picnic nearby, we hobbled back to our families. Upon our arrival, both of us were crying, and when asked why, we said, "Buddy fell off a tree." Everyone immediately rushed to Buddy's aid to ensure he was okay. Buddy was fine. Meanwhile, I sat all by myself on a picnic bench, still crying. Buddy's mother, who grew up in Brooklyn in the 1940s and 50s, was an amazing woman. She had a rare Brooklyn toughness, no-shit veneer, and a pure heart of gold. She saw me crying and asked me, "what the hell are you still crying about?" I blurted out; he fell on top of me. I was rushed to help by half of the triage care unit fussing over Buddy.

We graduated in 1977

Neither of us was seriously injured.