How I Met Jared

I had heard of him in sixth grade at Dag Hammarskjold Middle School. An eccentric student in my grade but not in my team of teachers. I had Englehart and Brown. I forget who he had. He had come from another elementary school - Pond Hill, I believe though I could be wrong - and so, I had had no interactions with him. Just his name and some hearsay.

I met him in seventh grade. We had both been placed with the same 'team' of teachers. The 'upper' level team of Mr. Germanese, Mr. Truehart, and Mrs. Economopolous (who we understandably called Mrs. E). We formed an odd sort of friendship that year. I, the geeky recluse; he, the eccentric outcast. I remember he began calling me an Irish potato bug, or something of the sort. And he had a habit of using polysyllabic words that confused even the teachers.

I specifically remember a time when he came over my father's house with his skis and ski boots to sled down the hill we had in the backyard while my brother and I use an inner tube - a very steep hill. After we had finished, we had dinner. My stepbrother was there, and he decided that he wanted to try on the ski boots. Jared matter-of-factly stated 'Please refrain from wearing my boots.' My stepbrother, taken aback by not only the politeness but also the language, literally guffawed and ran to his room, continuing his hysterical laughter. But that was Jared.

Our frienship continued through middle school and into high school. We both decided to play football. And we were always compared by the coach. Whether King of the Hill or Ball in the Ring, Coach Scott pitted the brainiacs against each other. Oh, and Jared may be shorter than I - well, now he is - but he's very much more compact than I. In other words, I normally got the worst of it. He broke his hand halfway through the season, and didn't return to football. Then again, in college he played rugby. He liked full contact sport.

But it wasn't on the field that we learned to be the best of friends anyway. It was in the school. We helped each other with anything and everything. He credits me with getting through Munley's precalc and Tetreault's calc classes - I still think he's full of it - and he did his share of helping me when it came to science, English, and even history. Because we had the same classes, we always sat together at lunch. Ribbing each other and our other friends. Talking about the latest news, whether political or familial. There wasn't a school day that went by when we didn't see each other.

Some of the times I remember best? Jared most likely wouldn't want me revealing some of them. So I will anway.

Freshman year in Mrs. Johnson's class - she looked rather like a white version of Yoda - Jared thought it would be funny to enclose himself entirely in his altogether ridiculously large bag. He actually zipped himself in. When Mrs. Johnson spied the bag moving in the back of the room, she - rather bewildered - sent him to the office.

I also recall a time when Jared did worse on a test than he expected - instead of an A+ he received a B+. He crumpled the paper and ate it. Yes, ate it.

In French class his freshman year, he decided that he would not take the name Francois. Instead, he would be Framboise - which he kept as his French name all four years. It means raspberry.

During high school, Jared would encourage all of his friends to scale the walls of Rock Hill school for no reason in particular. On Saturday nights. Yes, when others were out experiementing with normal things, we were finding ways to climb atop schools and not be noticed by the police.

Jared loved - and most likely still loves - paintball. I played only once with my friends. I had a slingshot and did rather well. Until the end, when I was outflanked, ran, tripped, and fell. Jared approached me confidently and fired at my stomach. I was pissed at him for a week.

During our senior year, he gave me rides to school. In the car, we listened to one of two things. They Might Be Giants or Rush Limbaugh. 'Nuff said.

Boy could he write. But, his handwriting? Completely illegible. I actually had teachers ask me to interpret his handwriting so they could grade his papers.

It turns out Jared was the valedictorian our senior year. By far. I was somewhere in the mix in that top percentage too, but he took the cake. The most intelligent and talented person I'd had the pleasure of meeting in my tenure at Lyman Hall.

He went to Middlebury, acing everything he did. Then he went to med school at Columbia. He joined the Air Force. And now he's working in Boston, eminently successful and as smart as ever.

We stay in touch. Maybe once a month. Well, normally longer. But that doesn't change the fact that he has been - and is - the best friend I've had the opportunity to know for the longest period of time. Almost twenty years...