My Dear Friends,
My name is Bill Gould. Perhaps you remember me, perhaps you don’t, for I certainly was not one of the stars. But I remember so many of the Class of ’62, my crazy pals, and the beautiful girlfriends. I am writing to tell you that, after all these years, those memories are more meaningful than they were half-a-century ago. I recall the hard lessons you taught me about fitting in, about right and wrong, and how to be part of a team. The petty differences, who cares? All of it now, at the other end, so trivial.
I did not know Roger Kauffman well, but his passing was particularly hard, as here was a strong, intelligent man taken long before his time. There was also gentle, impressively strong Charlie Jenkins; and Andy Austin; and then one of my best friends ever, “Sidley” Kreutzer; and my pal from Rochambeau, Earl Rainey; and so many more dear souls.
This may seem the ranting of a madman, but after I found myself the uninvited guest of the Viet Cong in Viet Nam in 1969, my dreams have never been happy. Yet, every once in a while, I dream about our thirtieth reunion, and I wake relaxed, content, even happy.
I am writing to ask you to come to the fiftieth reunion. I selfishly want to greet everyone, to look you in the eye and thank you and tell you that those were great years, and that you were an important part of the innocence that now emerges as so much more important than the trials of the past half-century. And I want to see you before it is too late.
I do not know what becomes of us after this life, but I do know, from the sadness of seeing dying soldiers and civilians in Viet Nam, and then four decades of treating patients in their last days on three continents, that a clarity emerges at the end, and your life, certainly the critical fragments, percolate to the surface during those last days. It is never your work or your bank account, but always the personal connections that linger when the unknown stands before us. I want to remember my great friends with a smile, especially the chums with whom I spent that senior year, the best days of my life.
All my best,
Bill
William Gould
