Most of my life was devoid of religion or religious training. I went to church some when I was very little, but none of what I was exposed to actually stuck. It did not interest me and I did not have a good support group to help mentor me. The closest I came to having any religious ties in my teen years was when I met "Stupid" Bill. That is not my name for him...it was one of his choosing. He used to comment that he always was doing "stupid" things so he thought the name fit.
Holmes actually introduced me to SB...they knew each other from school where they were both seniors. We made our introductions just outside his house as they were walking home from school. SB invited us in and introduced us to his family. When I heard that his father was a Methodist minister, I immediately went on the defensive. I really had no use for religion at that time and did not want to be chastised for my "heathen-ness". Oddly enough, neither the Rev nor his wife judged me. I was accepted and that was that. As a matter of fact, the Rev was pretty cool for a preacher. He liked Pink Floyd and was pretty up on things...he was smart and he and I got along very well. As a matter of fact, he was the minister who married me and my (now) ex-wife. On second thought, maybe he did not really like me after all...
SB had two sisters, one whom I thought was terribly cute and the other terribly annoying. He was the oldest and as the oldest (and the male) he was given a hard time about a lot of things. I am not saying he didn't deserve it, I am just commenting that it appeared he was given the bigger yardstick to measure up to. I know he resented it but he never drifted away from his family.
Once in a while I would met up with SB after he gotten out of school (I had graduated a couple of years before) and we eventually started hanging out pretty much all the time. SB and I would drive around in his parents old Chevy Citation when things got boring but more often than not, we would stay at his house and rock out to the "hair" metal bands of the 1980's. I soon found out that SB and I had a lot of similar interests and soon we started playing AD&D, jamming, lifting weights, and writing lyrics together. We had plans to form a band a some point, but my lack of musical skills kept me from helping much. SB was a pretty good bassist but his writing was worse than mine...which was pretty crappy! He eventually jammed with a local punk trio (making it a quartet) but I do not think that gig lasted long. He was not really into punk. He was a metalhead.
After a few months of SB and I becoming good friends, KD, Carp, Charlie, and Holmes came back into the picture and the group was expanded. I think that was the last major addition to the group and things remained basically the same until we began to drift apart. Charlie was not around much except when we filmed. He really did not approve of our normal day to day antics, but when a camera was involved...he was there. The rest of the crew was always around.
Let me tell you a little bit about SB's appearance. SB was thin. Up until he was added to the group, I was the smallest guy there. I weighed about 150 lbs or so, had a 29 inch waist, and stood about 5'11...I was a bean pole. SB was about the same height, but he weighed even less and had a smaller waist than I did. A good stiff wind would have blown him over. I am glad we did not live in Texas at that time...he never would have been able to keep on his feet.
SB also had a couple of trademark items that he wore all the time. The first was a very broken in pair of cowboy boots. They were so well worn that they would not stand upright by themselves...they flopped over. The other item was a threadbare denim jacket that he wore year round...he never took it off. I was half expecting it to fall apart one morning when he put it on, but it never did...at least not during the time we ran together. We used to joke that it must be enchanted.
If you couple that with his mustache, a perpetual 5 o'clock shadow, and short, black, thinning hair at age 17, you have SB. He was a metalhead with a punk's attitude and a country boy's swagger. He was the bad boy that every one of his girlfriends seemed to love. However, the most impressive thing about him was his loyalty to me whom he called his friend. He always watched out for me. He (and his family) even gave me a place to crash when my family and I were not getting along...no questions asked. His house was one that you never knocked...you just walked it, giving a small shout as you did so. If you were at their house within an hour of meal time, you were expected to stay and eat. His family even let me borrow their spare car for week while mine was in the shop.
Most of the activities that SB and I did were local, but once took a road trip about three hours north to his hometown of Weirton to visit his friends. The "International Food Festival" was being held there that year and the opportunity to see where SB was born and raised was something I could not pass up. The trip up was uneventful, as was the trip back. We ended up making it only a day trip, but we had a good time while we were there. We hung out with his friends, ate festival food, laughed, gawked at girls, and cut up as only teens can. Our only regret wast that we did not plan on staying the night so we could hang out at the festival and see some of the live music that started at sun down. Poor planning on our part, but at least we had a good time while we were there.
One of the more memorable occasions SB and I were part of centered on a double date with SB, his girlfriend, and her sister. SB had a cute girlfriend...cute and tiny. She could not have been more than 5 feet tall. She almost looked like a toy doll sitting on his lap...beauty and the beast. We drove around in SB's Citation, his girlfriend in the front and me and the sister in the back. We were not really into each other (she was kinda cute, but she did not shave her legs) so SB cut the night short after a quick bite to eat and a long drive. Once we got back to the girls house, I was stuck "entertaining" my date while SB and his girl were being amorous...in the back yard! The back yard was dark and shaded by large trees creating a very shadowy environment. SB liked to take risks and it would appear that his GF did as well.
When driving his parents old Citation (dubbed, "The Red Baron"...all of our cars had nicknames IIRC) became boring, SB looked at a vehicle of his own. He settled on a 1983 (I think) Ford Escort GT. It was a 5-speed and SB loved to drive it...fast. We drove all over town in that thing with Iron Maiden or Metallica blaring out of the stereo. Just as we did in "The Red Baron", we gawked at girls and cut up. One of the silly things we did was rate other drivers on a scale of 1-10. If we spotted a driver doing something stupid, we gave it a rating. We once saw a girl run up on a sidewalk with her car in downtown traffic and we gave her a rating of "8". She must have thought we were rating her looks because she yell back, "Thanks!" Little did she know...
SB's fascination with speed almost killed him once when he lost control of the car on some loose gravel. He was driving (fast of course) on a twisty country road several miles from his house when he slid the car over a hill. His bumper snagged a guy wire which kept him from going all the way over. SB was lucky to live through that one. When we heard what had happened, we feared the worst.
When it was time for SB to move out on his own (he did not go to college either), he and Carp became house mates. They shared an apartment until Carp got married and moved into his own place with his new bride. SB disappeared off the radar for a while but I eventually made contact with him via his father. SB was married and had a child (from a previous relationship) and was working in the food industry. When I called, his wife was rather guarded about information, so I just left my number and asked her to have SB call me back. She later informed me that there were a few people in SB's past that were intent on causing trouble and she thought I was one of them. She apologized and I accepted. No harm, no foul.
I have not spoken to SB in some time. About 5-6 years ago or so I stopped off in Summersville where his parents lived and spent the night. We caught up and I even got to speak to SB again. He was doing better but you could tell he had seen some hard times. According to his parents, things had gotten rough for him and he was in the process of getting back on his feet. While it hurt to hear that he had struggled, it was good to hear that things were on the upswing.
***Update***
Back before Thanksgiving 2007, I managed to get in touch with SB via his father. I tracked the Rev through Google and re-introduced myself. It was not too long after that when Stupid Bill called me. We have been chatting every couple of weeks since.
Bill has not changed one bit, outside the fact he lives on a small farm in Kentucky. He still has that, "to hell with the devil" attitude, has multiple girlfriends and drinks like a fish. It breaks my heart.
He has also been diagnosed with Lymphoma. The news rocked me. We are very near in age and the thought of outliving yet another of my friends saddens me. I plan on stopping off to visit when I make my annual pilgrimage to WV to visit family and friends.
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