Last night I sat idling over the keyboard, not interested in writing but merely browsing. I read the forum entries on high school memories, then on a whim called up Altavista.com and typed in the name of one of my former best friends. We formed a triumvirate that lasted from fifth grade through college: Susan Atherly, and Susan Fiedler, and me. We played horses and foursquare together at recess and after school during grade school and junior high, studied competitively and goofed off joyously together in high school, pledged the same sorority at the University of Washington. We had one male friend, Curtis Hawkes, who hung around with us a lot starting in junior high when he used the time honored method of drawing on my hand to get my attention. We added a fourth female member, Lori Weber, in high school. We stayed good friends until we went our separate ways after college. Weber married. Fiedler married; she was a waitress and a horse trainer last time I knew. Atherly took two degrees, one in history and one in art, and then went to work for her father's electronics business. I parlayed my musical talent into rent, and my graphics abilities into a side job in the rock and roll scene. Eventually, I left town. I don't think I've seen any of them since 1980. I've certainly never tried to find them online before. But to my surprise, Altavista turned up a web page belonging to a Susan Atherly. All hail the Internet.
Thinking about our friendship it occurs to me how grateful I am to have had them around. I went from being reasonably popular to a complete pariah when my family moved to Mercer Island in the middle of a school year when I was ten. The Susans got me through the worst social experiences of my life. There was a certain sense of being the Uncool Girls together, but we weren't the lowest rung of the social ladder. For my part, I thought they were funny, and smart, and they were passionate about the same things I was (movie making, drawing, pop stars, and horses). What more could anyone ask for in a friend, after all? The magic lasted for a long time.
But by college I was into my bad girl phase, smoking and drinking and raising hell in that particularly mild way good girls do when they haven't the faintest notion of how to be really bad. It was the first time I was aware that sometimes people don't stay friends forever even when they want to. I didn't have any boyfriends, and two of my friends were sure they'd met the man of their dreams. I got thrown out of my sorority for smoking pot. The others looked vaguely disapproving if I merely swore too often. Curtis went to another university, and the only time I saw him after that he looked manic and acted odd. Eventually, I realized we were friends only by long association. It was exciting to see them once a year or so, but no one bothered to keep in touch oftener than that. Two years after college I moved to California, and that was the end of that.
I did get some second-hand news once. A sorority sister named Rhonda was Atherly's best friend and fellow history major when we were all members of Phi Mu. I stopped by the chapter house in 1993 or 1994, and to my surprise Rhonda was there. We gossiped like mad, and she told me a little of what Atherly had been up to, along with other former friends. I promised to keep in touch, made one or two follow up phone calls, and once again disappeared. Until last night.
Eventually, after some minor detective work to determine if it was the right Susan Atherly, I wrote to her, asking if it was really her. It was. And here I am going to Seattle this weekend. I hope I can convince her to meet for a drink. It'd be really cool, and really strange, to see someone I spent so many formative years with after a gap of two decades. I wouldn't go to my high school reunion on a bet, but I would love to talk to either of the Susans again. I'm less like to find Fiedler; I know she took her husband's name, and I know I haven't the faintest hope of remembering it, though I remember him. I still have photos of us double dating: Susan and Randy, me and various nice guys whose names I no longer recall. Maybe Atherly will remember. I hope she accepts my invitation.
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