A Brief Friendship

   I attended Oneonta State College one summer, one of the last steps in earning credit toward my Master's Degree.  It was the summer of 1963, and some things that happened are clear in my mind. While I was there, Ma's pet bluejay named Lucille died, President Kennedy's son Patrick died at birth, and zip codes went into effect.  I'm sure lots of other significant events occurred during that summer, but I have a vivid recall of being in my dorm room and learning these  selected happenings.
   And, living alone for the first time, I made a friend, actually more than one.  My room was in a dorm on a hill;  the campus had lots of hills, steep ones too, and the cafeteria, the only place to eat, was at the bottom of my hill.  After breakfast the first morning, eating alone, I decided to change that. The next morning, in the communal bathroom, I asked a girl if she wanted to go for breakfast and she agreed.  So we went to the cafeteria and the next morning another girl asked if she could join us and of course she did. We must have had an enjoyable time because, later, another girl in one of my  classes said she had been  trying to figure out how to join the group, which she later did.  I have to say that it turned out to be quite a good summer, because it was also the first time in all my years of college that I didn't have to commute spending hours traveling and trying to work at the same time. I took 2 classes, Literature and Statistics, and was so knowledgeable with my new-found study time that I was at the top of the class in both subjects, and others wanted me to come to their study groups so I could share what I knew.  That was a first time event for me.
      But I stray. The first girl I became friends with was Gloria Ryan.  She was a language major with a brilliant background of  distinction in teaching, traveling, scholarships and advanced education.  We had meals together, and traveled around the city a bit, with and without others.  One day, when we were alone, she opened her wallet and showed me several pictures of her father and her brother.  She asked me what I thought.  I answered honestly that I thought they were very handsome; both father and son were indeed absolutely strikingly good-looking, startlingly so, especially since Gloria was quite plain and ordinary appearing.  She agreed, saying they were perfect looking, and talked about them for a while, still looking at their picture.   Abruptly, she stopped, and said they were both dead now.  They had gone out to get pizza to bring home, and were in a car crash that killed both father and son. 
      Several days later, I came home from class to find a note from Gloria;  she told me she was dropping class and leaving school.  She wished me luck.