The Most Unlikely Couple ~ Pt. I ~ Stillwater Rules


Let me tell you about Paul Tschida, the only reason I am married to The Wife. We met in seventh grade. He's the smart guy in the math class that I'm drowning in, taught by Mrs. Duberstien. Luckily, he had no problem helping me. And by "helping me" I mean letting me copy his homework. Sorry, Mom. We were fast friends. Decidedly in the "nobodies" group in junior high, we hung out a lot. Entering 10th grade, the start of high school in our school district, we began playing basketball every day during summer. There were a couple other regulars. Emmerson Ward and Mark Strege were the usual suspects. Mark had a car, so that was nice. Chuck Ressler and, I think, Dan Englund joined the crew. It was a great summer of hoops and ice cream at Selma's, a tiny shop in Afton, Minnesota. 

Hmm. I wonder how it all ends.

Once high school started, we drifted. I drifted, rather. I was more concerned with being cool than with hanging out with old buddies. Not that I was above hanging out with them or even disliked the basketball crew. I just had a lot going on. In high school, I lettered in tennis, theater, student council and newspaper. And I'm pretty sure I left another one out. But you get the idea. I was everywhere. Years passed and we continued drifting. College started. Strege went to a little school in Morris, Minnesota. Tschida and I went to the University of Minnesota, though we never saw each other. Ward went to Eau Claire in Wisconsin. As is normal, we were growing apart.

 And then, the summer before our third year of college, Mark Strege died in a car accident. Word passed fast in our hometown of Stillwater, in part because his mom, Glenda, was a math teacher at the high school. I was sitting at my job at the Jaycee softball fields in Stillwater when I found out from somebody else on the school district's grounds crew. Stunned, I picked up the phone and called Paul Tschida. Emmerson Ward was already at his house. We were all shocked. We went to the funeral the next day together. Paul and I reconnected. We carpooled to school. We graduated and remained close, even though he moved to Atlanta and I went to New Hampshire. We went on a baseball roadtrip in the summer of 2001, visiting Detroit, Cincinnati, Pittsburgh, Baltimore, New York and Boston. 

 In the spring of 2002, I got a job in Duluth, Minnesota. I e-mailed my Minnesota friends and asked if anybody knew of anybody in Duluth. I needed a roommate, or someone to help me find an apartment. One person responded. Paul knew somebody in Duluth. A girl he met while visiting Mark Strege at college in Morris, Minnesota. A girl named Amy.

 Part II here.

Comments

  1. JillMarch 28, 2011 at 7:08 AM

    An unpredictable cliffhanger. 13-3-1.

    ReplyDelete
  2. mestreenMarch 28, 2011 at 4:42 PM

    Hey Jim- have been enjoying your blog and felt the need to comment after this post. So many names from the past, memories of when Mark died. Crazy. I can't wait to read the rest. :) Megan

    ReplyDelete
  3. IncarossMarch 28, 2011 at 7:59 PM

    Schorty - Yesika and I are gripped by your story and look forward to the next parts in the series. Nice photo by the way very "Peruvian" it looks very familiar.

    ReplyDelete
  4. GlendaNovember 2, 2013 at 5:38 PM

    A very inspiring article. The outcome of events is not always apparent until later. The ripple effect. As Mark said a few days before his death, "An essence of life is not the way something happens, but why it happens. But part of the why it happens is because of the way it happens." Thank you very much for mentioning Mark and the BB adventures in your article: PS, EW, CR, DE, and yourself. Those were fun times -- not just for Mark, but for us, his parents, when he would talk about them. We went back to Selma's last summer just to stand there -- and think. Another Mark-ism: "There are connections between everything ... Even when I die, I will have a connection to Life." We sure miss him. Love never dies. Thanks again! Wishing you all the best -- always!

    ReplyDelete

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