Tommy and the Big Cincuenta

Tom and George: Friends for fifty years

A little over two years ago, I was blown away when I received an email out of the blue from someone in my distant past. He had been anonymously reading my blog and he asked if I was "the george rede from decoto (union city) calif." If so, we had been good, if not best, friends in kindergarten/first grade.

Yes, I was that George Rede and the writer was Tommy Nunez, who was indeed my best friend in those long-ago days of black-and-white television, one-speed bicycles and baseball cards. We emailed back and forth, trading memories and establishing an online friendship. I wrote a blog post which remains one of my favorites: "Tommy? Is that you?

And today, our friendship came full circle. I flew down to San Jose for a weekend family reunion and drove over the mountains to Santa Cruz to meet him and wife Terri at one of their favorite spots for lunch. He met me in the doorway of Hula's, a casual restaurant with a tiki bar, Hawaiian art and a distinctly laidback surfer vibe. And, wouldn't you know it? He looked just like the Tommy Nunez I used to hang with until I was 7 or 8 years old -- except for the mustache and beard, of course.

Over the next 2 1/2 hours -- as Tom and his wife Terri sipped mai tais while I tossed back a couple of Oregon microbrews and we noshed on wings, pot stickers, calamari, chicken and beef skewers -- we chatted and laughed as comfortably as if we were still second-graders at Decoto Elementary School.

Hula's Bar and Grill, Santa Cruz

We covered a lot in 150 minutes: marriage, family, children, work, parents, siblings, in-laws, the economy, the Internet, Portland and Boulder Creek, the community where they live in the Santa Cruz Mountains. My family moved from Decoto/Union City, a blue-collar, heavily Latino town, after the fourth grade, when I was 10. I had the fuzzy impression that Tommy's family had moved away around the same time but he corrected me. His family also moved away after second grade, when we would have been 8 or 9.

We were both living in Fremont but in different parts of town, so we never again attended the same schools.

So, Terri interjected, that means you haven't seen in each other in, what, 50 years??

"Uh..." I stuttered. "I guess that's right. Fifty years!"

Last fall, I attended my 40th high school reunion and called it The Big Cuarenta. Realizing the Tom-George  friendship goes back half a century, it's only right to call it The Big Cincuenta. :)

Oh, how I wish Lori could have been with me. She would have loved Tom and Terri, with all of us growing up in the Bay Area. Lori in San Francisco and Terri in Hayward, the town immediately north of Union City. I told them both how completely relaxed I felt in their company and how it felt like Tom and I hadn't missed a beat. What a great feeling to know we have so much in common -- with three kids each, all of similar ages, including one married child and one gay or lesbian child in each of our families.

Here's hoping all four of us can get together, whether in Oregon or in California, to continue the conversation.

Tommy? Is that you?

The e-mail arrived 10 days ago with a mysterious subject line: an old, old friend?

you may not remember me....esp. if you aren't the george rede from decoto (union city), calif.

but if you are, we were good (best?) friends in kindergarten/1st at decoto elementary....

i lived on 7th street....think you lived on 5th/6th....who knows now....

anyway, am enjoying your blog and just wanted to say hey....

And just like that, I was transported back to a time when Tommy Nunez and I were indeed best friends. A time when I was 6 or 7 years old, missing a tooth or two and loving things like playground kickball, the corner grocery store where I bought candy, the freedom to ride my bike or walk anywhere in our neighborhood of working-class Chicano families. (It would be another three years before my first kiss -- a quick peck on the cheek of the 4th-grade bronze goddess Stella Gonzales).

Tommy and I parted ways when one of us moved away from Union City. I was in 5th grade when we moved to Fremont (I honestly can't remember if his family moved before or after mine) but I do remember feeling crushed at the loss of my best friend. In any case, we never saw each other again, though I do remember a time as a prep sports writer for my hometown newspaper when I noticed a familiar name on the soccer team at a rival high school -- and, yes, it was Tommy. I ran cross country and track, so we never competed in the same sport.

After all these years, how did he track me down?

Simple, he wrote: "the all-powerful google....was feeling nostalgic the other day, when i do, i run
old friends thru google, if i can remember their names at this point....one of the entries was for 'rough and rede', and there is a picture, and the picture kinda looked like you...so there ya go. "

These days, Reunion.com, MyLife.com and Facebook are among the many social networking sites that make it easy to get in touch with long-lost friends, classmates -- even relatives. I've never been attracted to either of the first two; unlike my social butterfly wife, who still gets together with lifelong friends from San Francisco, I've maintained only two strong friendships from high school.

So it was gratifying to hear from Tommy and appreciate the amazing reach of Google. Like anything else, the combination of a few keystrokes and mouse clicks can transport you anywhere in the virtual world, from the workplace to the blogosphere, from familiar to the never-been-there, from the present to your past. (Decoto Elementary, by the way, is now the home of New Haven Adult School and Union City itself is celebrating its 50th anniversary this year.)

Even more gratifying? To hear that Tommy -- he's Tom now -- is doing well, living in the Bay Area and working from home for a high-tech company. He and his Significant Other have three kids, one married, and are expecting their first grandchild in October.

Turns out his S.O. has relatives in Oregon, and they've been up here a few times. Needless to say, I hope their next trip up here -- or our next trip down there -- allows us to get together. Trading childhood memories and catching up on everything since then would be so cool.

Until then: "take care, dude."