Being retired I spend some time reflecting on the past, the people I met along the way, and the wonderful times I’ve shared with them. You have met some of them already, but I want to tell you about one I met over 25 years ago who I still stay in touch with, even though she moved miles away.
Chris lived in Port Washington, NY way back in the 80’s when I first met her at my job. I was told she was one of the older workers in terms of service. Being the company was rather large, with a national reputation and famous for giving away millions of dollars, I was impressed by that fact. She married a very pleasant gentleman of Italian extraction, and although she wasn’t Italian, she could speak two languages: English and Hands. Yes, she had very expressive hands, hands that could lead a symphony or direct traffic all at the same time. I guess marrying an Italian; she perfected the second language to a fluency that belied her own heritage.
Most importantly she was a glue pot that held the group together. A group of us would gather for lunch at least twice a week and go to the same restaurants with regularity on Monday or Friday. She rounded us up; made sure we were committed for lunch that day, and followed through.
One of the things we did on Friday was go to the bank to deposit our checks, get cash then go to lunch. I happened to notice that the bank we went to, if you were inside, you could hear whatever anyone was saying in his or her car at the drive-through intercom. This gave me an idea for a Friday amusement. There was a guy named Schwartz, who no one was particularly close to, and seemed to set off Chris at the mere mention of his name. One Friday we went to the bank drive-through and our turn came. Chris was behind the wheel, and I mentioned Schwartz, knowing full well that: everyone in the bank could hear whatever she said. You see, when I mentioned Schwartz to her, not only did she get pissed, her voice got very loud, This went on for a few weeks, then one day she went into the bank. You guessed it; she realized what I was doing!
The fact that I lived to tell this story is testament to her wonderful nature and sense of humor. She was always a comfort if things were not going well and you needed someone to talk to. There is nothing pretentious in her being, nor is she ever envious of anyone. She is just the kind of person you want to know, with her expressive hands, cigarette and glass of white wine, she can hold a conversation and make you very comfortable doing it. We used to go for a special lunch at a restaurant that eventually closed down on us for Gnocchi made with this delicious basil sauce, and it was our lunch only.
Then I left the company, and she eventually moved south, and we lost our connection. Recently we reconnected, and although it is through e-mail, I’ll take it.
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