Dave’s my oldest friend, he’s one month older than me, he claims that was the best 30 days of his life. We were introduced when four years old in a church nursery.
When we were sixteen, the 4th of July came around and we’d an idea. I’d a box of M80’s, some aerial bombs and triple repeating bombs. These explosives were as powerful as the ones used at the stadium. We worked all afternoon taking the explosives out of the sky works and taping everything together with half the box of M80’s and a long fuse. At 7pm on a Sunday evening, we went down and set it on a tree stump in the schoolyard, lite it and ran. We're peeking around the corner and the fuse went out. It took a moment to creep up. We went back to my basement, added the rest of the M80’s and a couple more aerial explosives and replaced the fuse. Proudly returning to the schoolyard, we set our experiment on the stump and RAN. It’s nighttime. We’re behind the same corner, thinking the fuse went out again. Dave stepped around the corner and the thing went off. The blast knocked him down, the tree stump was blown apart, a few school windows shattered, all the home lights around the school came on and the city’s fire alarm went off. There was a write-up in the newspaper the next day about vandals attempting to dynamite Elm School. We didn’t do it on purpose.
We went through college together. Our first week as juniors, he came to the dorm and said,” You won’t believe what I just saw.”” What?” Two men were holding hands.”” So?” They’re friends.”” They kissed on the mouth”” WHAT?” We were twenty-two and didn’t know what homosexuals were. Small town, Martins Ferry. He’s taking accounting to become a Certified Public Account, CPA. I went into finance for no particular reason, except I knew accounting was much more difficult. We were both very determined and pushed one another, like Bill and I had done with weight training. We’d go to the library every night and study for hours, party on the weekends. Ohio University in 1973 was the highest partying campus in the nation, behind Berkley in California. There would be as many people in the bars on a Tuesday afternoon as a Saturday night. I came to campus with a 2.7 grade average and graduated with a 3.3. I aced high-end mathematics, Calculus, Quantitative Methods (QM), Advanced Algebra. I was gifted with a mind for math. What I enjoyed about it, there were no gray areas. One plus one equals two. I should have decided on engineering as a career, no common sense. Dave passed the CPA exam the first time he took it. This was very unusual, nobody passed this extremely difficult exam the first try. He had an important interview with a potential employer, Haskins & Sells, which was one of the big eight accounting firms in the nation. He had one white shirt, his family struggled to put him through college. His dad was a meat cutter at the local Kroger, his mother was a librarian. We’re sitting on our dorms bed bunks, I reached over and tugged his shirt a little. WHOOSH, his fist fly’s past, If he had hit me, I would definitely been knocked out. His one white shirt was of critical importance. Haskins & Sells hired him for $32,500, in 1974 that was an extremely high paying job. Due to my amazing faulty thinking processes, I went to work, after graduating cum laude (with honor) at a foundry with the highest fatality rate in the nation for $7900. A bank would have hired me as an investment banker for a much higher base salary, plus commission. I was intelligent, when I had to be, very stupid when I wasn’t. Dave was in charge of auditing one third of Ohio National Bank’s assets, which became Chase. He was superb at his craft.
After two years he quit, and started a civil war magazine. His wife Robin was his secretary. He had to borrow money from his boss, to finance his first issue. In return, he signed a contract which offered the gentleman 10 percent of net earnings. The man made a wise decision. At the time, Dave had the highest response in the history of new publications. He has an uncanny knowledge of the Civil War, and told me he had a birthmark on his chest. He believes he’d been killed as an officer and was shot in the heart. He’s now retired, with office, home, and all assets paid for. He’s a self-made millionaire, however, you’d never know it if you met him. Very down to earth, no fancy clothes, always wears jeans.
He’d invited our family to his daughter’s birthday party. My future wife, Mary Jo and Dave's’ wife Robin, instantly clicked and the two of them talked for hours. There were over a hundred people in attendance on a beautiful Saturday night summer evening. He had built the deck around his pool and designed a waterfall with flowing water. He enjoyed working with his hands. He paid the sheriff’s department to prevent people from crashing. Somehow, he’d arranged for a very popular band who had just played at Ohio State to perform, The Moffatts. They were the youngest band to sign a major label recording contract at the time and released five albums. Four young Canadians who were very talented and articulate. We all shot pool. The only issue I had with Dave was his faulty perception of marijuana. One of his closet friends, Jim, smoked a joint. Dave kicked him out and wouldn't talk with him for over a year. I talked with him today, 7/23/2024 about my first chapter discussing this issue. I explained you’ll also read of technology that would have cured Robin’s liver cancer.
Back in the late 1990s, seven of us went to New York City on the Guy Trip. Dave and Jim were friends again, so we took Jim’s beautiful customized van. Friday night we bar hopped and Dave paid for everything. After several hours, we ended up in a bar across the street from our lodging at the Marriott on Time’s Square. There’s a group of young men and Dave found out they’re doing internships and were from Ohio University. He bought them all a round. Twenty minutes later he decided to leave, went over to the interns and wanted them to come. They refused, so he twisted one’s nose and stormed out. What happened next was one of the most hilarious events I’d ever witnessed. His magazine was so popular because of The General’s Tour. He’d walk the battlefield field and had published detailed maps, so readers could walk also and understand the significant events of the battle. Outside, he saw they had moved Jimmy’s van. New York is the chop shop capital of the world. Dave went into a rage and the General charged. His 6ft.2in frame is running across the four lane thoroughfare. He thought the attendant’s window cubical was plastic, it’s glass. He slammed on the window, shattering the glass and slicing his wrist, all this took ten seconds. The drunken seven of us made it back to our room, leaving a trail of blood. Jimmy said, “Put your hand above your heart.” I said, “He doesn’t have a heart.” I still have my shoes with the blood on them, I chuckle every time I see them. We bandaged him and went back to our bar hopping at 2am. New York City never sleeps. I lagged behind and ended up talking with a beggar who was black, he averaged making over four hundred dollars a day. We talked about God. Dave saw I was gone, knew about my ability to get lost in a parking lot, and became worried. They found me sound asleep. The next night we ended up at Johnny Passianos, a popular club in Little Italy which was directly across the street from John Gotti’s headquarters. He was a mafioso and the boss of the Gambino crime family, his name was plastered all over the daily news. This was the only borough in New York where no cars parked on the street. You walked or drove through. I’d never seen so many beautiful women, expensively dressed, in one place. Dave explained this was the modeling capital of the world, and they came here because they were protected. On Sunday we’re leaving, but Dave had to visit Grant’s Tomb first so he could use our trip as a business write-off so he’d be partially reimbursed for over the thousand dollars he’d spent. This was the first time I’d been on a subway and was like a kid with a massive hangover. We left the subway and found ourselves smack-dab in the middle of Harlem. I'm thinking, way cool, part of the Guy Trip. I’m looking in all the shops, the beauty salons were packed, we’re the only white people in sight. Dave and crew had formed a “V” with Jim at the head as he was a Vietnam veteran. They’re marching out of Harlem. Dave told me later Jimmy had said, “Halt. Where’s Bob?” I’m three blocks back, sightseeing. Dave ran up and said, “Get in formation.”” What?”” Get in line.”” Those four men across the street are looking at you like you’re a Doe.” Dave was irritated with Jim, as he’d mistakenly told us to get off at the wrong exit. We survived.
Dave later told me another event that almost bankrupted his magazine. He’d hired a young man who had published several books about the Civil War at the age of 24. The first day, he barged into Robin’s office, who was in a meeting with folks wanting to advertise in their nationwide publication. Robin was somewhat confused, brought him outside and politely asked him to leave. The next morning, Dave arrived at the office and the man’s toiletries were in the restroom. He’d stayed all night, telling Dave he had big plans for the business. Dave told Robin he was just excited and took him on a trip to Washington, D.C.to get to know him. If I remember correctly, his name was Mark. Dave was doing an issue about haunted battle sites. For the issue’s spooky cover, he’d made arrangements with an Armory to have on a light at the top right and bottom left of the building. His camera’s on a tripod, he’s looking through the view finder and Mark runs in front. This happened two more times, Dave said if looking closely at the bushes you can see his face. They went to a high-end steakhouse and when the meal arrived. Mark yelled,” They didn’t bring me any pepper.”, and through his silverware. Dave told him to go to the van. When he’d finished his meal, Dave went to the van and Mark is covered in sweat. “I have completed re-con, thirty push-ups, checked the oil and tire pressure. All is in order, sir.”” Umm, that’s great, Mark.” That night they were in a battlefield, sleeping in the van. Dave woke up out of a dead sleep and Mark is staring at him, inches from his face. He threw Dave’s expensive camera, Dave said, “Leave.” He’d spent the night outside, apologized for the camera, and seemed normal. After several hours, Dave made a horrible mistake and let him drive. Dave woke up, truck horns are blaring, and the van is shaking. Over a hill crest, Mark had left the van in the middle of the interstate. If two trucks had been side by side, he’d have been killed. Mark had been running around in the middle of a field. When he climbed in, he was drenched in sweat and his eyes looked like a maniac. He said, “I’ve been with Jesus on the road to Damascus.”” Ok Mark.” Dave naturally fired him, it turns out he’s a complete schizophrenic. What happens is, they take antipsychotic meds thinking they're cured, and they’ll stop. Mark thought he was cured because Dave had hired him. He sued the magazine for firing him due to his medical condition. Dave thought he was going to be forced to change the magazine's name. An excellent corporate attorney found a loophole and resolved the issue. Mark is a history professor at a prestigious university, and Dave still receives Christmas cards that explain how much he’s admired and respected. Dave just says, “What a quack.”
45Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEq9lNESVQI
45Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡu0f4xbbNkX
