Keep in Touch...

This past year has been one of “loss” for so many people, from loss of businesses, to loss of jobs, to loss of dreams, to loss of lives.

E-mails have long kept me in touch with Kathe, a close friend from college. Recent correspondence with her included discussions about the pandemic and future travel plans, pets and family. On the evening of March 10, a mutual friend found Kathe on her couch with a bag of treats for her dog, Bree, still in her hand. The medical examiner said she had passed away from a coronary embolism.

It is odd that I cannot bring myself to use the word “died.” Perhaps because it seems too final, too definitive. Perhaps if I don’t say the word, it isn’t true, it isn’t real. Perhaps my dear friend will still be smiling and tossing out a sarcastically witty comment, as she was wont to do.

Linn Memorial United Methodist Church on the campus of our alma
mater, Central Methodist College (now University), Fayette, Missouri

Kathe and I became friends as freshmen in college. We both thrived in that environment, spouting insignificantly brilliant commentary on literature. I’m sure much of it was banal, but our Professors allowed us the dignity of letting us believe that we actually knew something…about literature or about life. I can recall arguing fervently about some minuscule interpretation of a writing in the classrooms of Classic Hall at Central Methodist College.  How many seventeen-year-olds have that much passion and conviction about their literary opinions?  Years later, Kathe gave me one of my all-time favorite books, West with the Night by Beryl Markham.  And yes, she was right about that book, too. It was marvelous.

Our small clique of college friends entertained ourselves in very low-keyed ways. With a student body of only 750, set on “100 acres of Christian atmosphere” (declared the brochure sent to parents) Central Methodist College and the town of Fayette were, indeed, low-keyed. One memorable evening a group of us stuffed ourselves in a car for a rare off-campus excursion. We drove to a nearby town to watch “Beach Party” movies (which, by that time, were already old) at the local drive-in theater from dusk to dawn. By 3:00 am, we were noticing and discussing which bikinis had already been worn in the previous movies. (In case you are wondering, a red bikini with white polka dots showed up most often in those movies.) It was funny and fun at the same time.

This the the group that I hung out with in college. Kathe is
second from the right, in orange coat. On the left, in the red
hood, is Denise, who sadly discovered that Kathe had died.

Upon leaving Central Methodist College, Kathe and I both ended up in Colorado for graduate school, she in Denver and I in Greely. We got to see each other occasionally, but neither of us had a car. In fact, Kathe did not get a drivers’ license for years. She simply did not care to drive. We kept in touch.

Kathe and me, Denver, October 1974, when both of us were in graduate school

Kathe loved Denver and remained there. Later, a mutual friend from Central Methodist, Denise, moved to the area as well. I moved to Minneapolis to enter a doctoral program, and later moved back to St. Louis. One evening I got a knock on my door, and a gentleman with government credentials wanted to talk to me. He told me that I had been given as a reference. My friend Kathe had applied for a position with the State Department, and this was part of the background check. I found it pretty impressive that she had made it to that stage; unfortunately, her quest for an appointment to the diplomatic corps was never fulfilled. Kathe later told me that she had been informed that the reason she was not hired was that she “thought too quickly on her feet.” Personally, I would have thought that in foreign service, that might have been a good attribute.

Kathe would go on to get a Juris Doctor (JD) degree and pass the Colorado bar to become a lawyer. Oddly, especially after the spirited discussions we had had during our undergraduate years, she confided to me that she never liked arguing in courtrooms.  We kept in touch.

One of the things that we shared was a love of carousels. On a trip with Kathe
back to her home in Denver, we stopped in Abilene to visit the C.W. Parker
Carousel, named one of Kansas Sampler Foundation's Eight Wonders of Kansas 

We both shared a passion for travel. One year the two of us planned a trip to the Galapagos Islands. It was a fascinating adventure. We had reading material and discussion groups about each island; the flora and fauna, indigenous species found there, and invasive species that were endangering each island.  My competitive college buddy had not lost her edge – each evening in the ship’s lounge was like a Jeopardy competition. We kept in touch.

Kathe periodically came back to Missouri to visit family, and as often as we could, we would meet for a visit and to share a meal. I travelled with her back to Colorado following one of those family visits one summer and got to see Denise after many years. A few days up in the mountains afforded us the opportunity to enjoy gorgeous scenery and have dinner in a unique restaurant and lodge that showcased thousands of keys hung from the ceiling.  We didn’t see each other for a long time after that visit, but we kept in touch.

Kathe with her niece, Dulcie, during one of her visits to family
in Missouri. We met them for breakfast one morning.

On March 7, I received what would turn out to be a final e-mail from Kathe. She told me she had gotten the single-shot Johnson & Johnson Covid vaccine the previous day. She also wrote about the bi-annual family reunion that she and her siblings had decided to cancel this summer, rescheduling it instead for 2022, for a variety of reasons. “The only upside” she said in a twist of irony “is that we now have plenty of time to ensure that the places we want to stay…will be available at the time of the reunion…”.  With the coming of spring and the protection afforded by her vaccination, Kathe was looking forward to getting out more and seeing friends. She wrote that she had bought a stack of books, and was trying to pace herself, but that she had already read five of the new novels. I’m glad she had a chance to read those five.

But now I can no longer keep in touch. I don’t get the chance to ask you what you thought of those books. I won’t have another chance to argue with you about minutia in some literary work.

As all pet lovers know, our pets are family. Kathe’s dog, Bree, was seriously ill and heavily medicated. Kathe had been hand-feeding her. The veterinarian said the kind thing to do, with Kathe gone, was to put Bree to sleep.

My heart breaks for the loss of my dear friend of more than fifty years. My prayers go out to Denise and JoAnn, her two “besties” in Colorado, as well as to all of Kathe’s family.  My dear friend, until we can keep in touch again, my vision of you is walking with Bree in Avalon, analyzing textual evidence with Professor Forderhase.

Rest well, my friend.

Sunset over the Pacific Ocean on one of the evenings
that Kathe and I were in the Galapagos Islands

Don’t cry for me, I am not gone.

My soul is at rest, my heart lives on.

Light a candle for me to see

and hold on to my memory,

but save your tears for I’m still here,

by your side, through the years.

                          ~ ~ Christy Ann Martine

P.S. Kathe would probably hate this remembrance. I can hear her now saying that “it is too sappy”, that “it needs more editing”, and “how are you going to work in your signature tag line, Road Stories?”