|R.G. reading my calculus book|
Almost everyone in those rooms were friends and we often congregated in the hallway for long conversations. R.G. and I would often sit on the floor in the sleeping-room hall talking and smoking cigarettes (him with his Salem menthols and me with my Marlboros) all night long. Pat remembers often saying “Good Night” to us before going to bed and then “Good Morning” to us when she got up the next morning. We were usually still sitting in the same location. I don’t know how I managed that lifestyle and still was able to complete my bachelor’s degree, but somehow I did it.
|R.G. raiding someone's refrigerator|
Of course we also visited the local watering holes in the neighborhood. R.G. was partial to Chief’s, a bar that was less than a block away from our apartment building. It was a neighborhood bar that reminded me of a smaller and less decorative version of the bar that Archie Bunker bought in the later seasons of All In The Family. We spent many nights and lots of money that we should have used more wisely in that crowded little bar eating hard-boiled eggs and drinking Iron City Beer. It was a great place, but it was also a rough place. R.G. was in there one evening when a man with a gun robbed the bartender, who wisely forked over the money with no struggle. We all knew that Chief’s was robbed fairly frequently and that the owner kept a firearm behind the bar. None of us wanted to be there when he decided to use that firearm. Anyway, we still continued to frequent Chief’s. There was just something about that bar that beckoned to us, even though it was not a typical college bar. I also imbibed in The Luna (a college bar) across the street from Chief’s, but R.G. didn’t feel comfortable in that environment.
|Richard, Paul, Pat, Bruce, and R.G.|
We also had parties in that sleeping-room hallway and R.G. was one of the main entertainers during those parties. Alcohol would always loosen his discipline some and he contributed lots of humor to those parties. However, he usually was able to retain a modicum of servility.
R.G. was an amazing person and I have always felt lucky that we were friends. Unfortunately, he had to return to Jamaica after he was informed that his younger brother had been killed by a hostile Jamaican gang member. He had to leave suddenly and never returned. I lost a very good friend whom I thought of as almost a brother. We exchanged a couple of letters, but then lost contact. We both moved on, but I will never forget R.G. and I hope he is having a wonderful life. Where you be, R.G.?