Monday, June 05, 2006
Ritch Kumhala, a friend from high school, died on Saturday in Green Bay, Wisconsin. I don't know how or why.
Random memories of Ritch, in any order:
Boy scouts, hunting chipmunks up at his grandparents’ land in Michigan, the way he made that double shot on the run, maple syrup, running from the cops, showing me how to slip out of handcuffs, white blonde hair and beard, a really crazy and open smile, sleeping on our couch in Madison for months, getting him a job at the corner grocery store, his army jacket, quick mind that instantly caught me and Kent cheating at cards when no one else did, we going to the high school dance stag, leaving alone, those endless days and nights of parties, Ritch, running from the cops, the way he made you nervous with his silence, the way he made you laugh: “Ritch, you want some coffee?” “No thanks, I’m not thirsty.” Cigar box full of “goodies,” unapologetic living, afraid of authority, unafraid to challenge authority, devotion to his friends, forest fire, Ritch, running to the neighbors pounding on doors, plunging headlong into the flames with a bucket of river water, video games, mastery of video games, boredom and ideas, a bottle of whiskey and we walked down the long black road in the rain looking for the party where we knew we were not wanted, walking anyway, longing anyway, hoping to bribe our way in with the whiskey, running from the cops, tossing the bottle over a fence, who were the cops?, wrapped in an American flag, bloody lip, emerging from between the houses in the middle of the night, “Hi guys, remember that fight I had in front of South West”, always fighting, thirsting, hungry, happy to see and be with you… we lost touch and the last time I saw him was in a bar in Green Bay and I hadn’t seen him for years, walks in and says “Hi Jeff.” like we’d talked yesterday, very simple, and I, excited, “Hey Ritch!”, “Are you going to be around here in the center?” he asks. “Yeah, for a few days…” “Ok, see you then.” He turns and walks out as if we’d made solid plans and was counting on seeing me again sometime real soon. Thank you Ritch for the time we spent together, you are a good friend.
Ritch may not have been a fearless person, but he faced many, many things without fear, things that would (and did) make other people afraid. And of course there were circumstances in which Ritch did not have a lot of power or authority, but then, there were times when he was definitely the one in command. I am thinking of very specific situations, in which I was personally involved in one way or another. And from personal experience, I can say that there were times when I was afraid to do what needed to be done, and Ritch was more than happy to take care of the situation, to face the conflict for me, even if it meant personal risk to himself. And also from personal experience, I can say that there were times when Ritch was the person with the power or authority, and he used it to help me, to lift me up.
It was an honor to be Ritch's friend.
: 4:31 PMLinks to this post:
