I ask for your indulgence. This one is going to take some explaining. Settle in. Names have been changed for the usual reasons.
I live in Los Angeles, but I was raised in an outlying desert suburb that seemed like a totally different world from here. The town was no great shakes, but far from the worst place you could be. At the time, there was a lot of the rural area-type of naivete that you might find in a less cosmopolitan state. To give you an idea, back in the year of my high school graduation, 1968, people in my hometown would have been shocked to find out that Rock Hudson was gay. They would have said "No way. You're just jealous of him getting all the women that he must get." Needless to say, times have since changed.
The town used to have two main employers: a military base, where my father worked, and a manufacturing plant that during WWII employed nearly 1,000 people. After the war, employment at the plant hovered between 300-500, but still did a thriving business. Both the plant and the military base are gone now. The Pentagon closed the base, and foreign competition, among other factors, did in the plant.
Fast forward to the present, as in last night, July 6, 2007. I'm sitting in a Hollywood-area coffee shop sipping coffee and reading a newspaper that I've neglected all day. I'm by myself, and no one is bothering me. I see various people come in and out of the coffee shop, including an attractive middle-aged blond woman with long, straight hair in business attire, toting both a laptop and a briefcase. There is an instinctive brain spark that tells me she looks familiar, but at this stage of my life, that can be said about a lot of people I see everyday. I don't pay her any mind and I keep reading.
Suddenly, the woman is walking in my direction. Seeing her get closer to my table, I look up and see her smiling. Her smile widens and now she's beaming. I still don't know who she is, though my brain is frantically trying to figure it out. She reaches my table and says "Rico? Rico! Remember me? It's Andrea ____!" My jaw drops. It IS Andrea. I stand and exclaim "I'll be damned!" and we hug. It's been ages. Andrea sits down and joins me, then we start playing catch-up.
Andrea takes some explaining. Like the sub title says, please bear with me. Andrea was one year ahead of me in high school. She graduated in 1967. She soon told me that she just flew in from New York where she now lives for her class' 40th reunion, which will take place weekend after this upcoming one. Her younger sister still lives in the hometown, and she wants to visit with her. With both her parents gone, her sister, who now teaches at the same high school, is all the family she has left. Andrea had two unhappy marriages with no children. Her sister is married and has 3 children, and will soon be a grandmother. Andrea is looking forward to being a visiting aunt from the big city.
This is another case of how times have changed. If Andrea and her sister had been born 25 or so years earlier, they would have had a thriving, vibrant plant to inherit. Andrea and her sister were from the quote-unquote "Rich Family in Town." That's putting it very mildly. Their father, whom I met once or twice way back then, and who seemed like a nice man, was very powerful and influential around the region. He had local politicians in his hip pocket. As a result, Andrea was perhaps the snottiest girl in the long history of our high school. She did whatever she wanted and got away with it. As often happens in small towns, good grades are just automatically given to the offspring of the influential. I don't think Andrea ever got below a "B" in her entire life. She could have been Homecoming Queen if she so desired, but she never tried for it.
Back then, Andrea had a regalness to her that frankly, rubbed other students the wrong way. She could be very mean to others, especially if their fathers worked for her father. She would not "lower" herself to associate with the kids of her father's plant workers. I think the reason that she was civil to me back then was because my father didn't work for hers, and supposedly one of her friends had a crush on me, which got me invited to a couple of her pool parties. I guess I should consider myself lucky. I was spared most of her snobbish contempt. Two students come to mind who weren't so lucky.
One, a girl we'll call Nancy, was so badly mistreated by Andrea, that she must have considered suicide at one point. Cruelty was Andrea's middle name at the time. I'll spare you some long, gawdawful stories, and just say that Andrea made Nancy's life in high school a living Hell, and poor Nancy became a laughing stock at school. Nancy once spent two weeks out of school because she was paranoid about going back and facing the ridicule. Despite complaints from Nancy's parents, the school never disciplined Andrea, probably because of who her father was.
The second unlucky student was a guy we'll call Marty. There was only one incident involving him and Andrea, but it was a doozy. And it probably had a more devastating effect on Marty than all the torture Nancy went through. Marty was a quiet, studious good guy. Just about everybody liked him. I liked him. One of those guys who never bothered anyone, and helped you if you needed it. One time, during the Spring semester of Andrea's and Marty's Senior year, the school got a grant, from the same plant of all places, to conduct an essay contest among the Seniors, and the top 10 scores got an all-expenses paid trip to Paris, to be taken as a group during the upcoming Spring break. Some students, who weren't very good academically, didn't even try. Everyone figured correctly that Andrea would be one of the top 10 finishers. Came the day when they announced the winners. Marty finished 10th. He was ecstatic. He said that he's really never gotten to go anywhere in his life, and he was understandably happy.
Andrea somehow found out that her friend, we'll call her Emily, finished 11th. Andrea went to the teacher in charge of the project, and told him that Marty had cheated on his essay. The teacher believed her. Emily gets to go to Paris, not Marty. Marty is devastated. He tries to talk to the teacher and the principal, to no avail. Marty becomes an emotional wreck, and as a result, is sent to continuation school to finish his Senior year.
I apologize for the length. We are down the homestretch, I promise.
Fast forward again to last night. Andrea tells me that she is now racked with guilt over her behavior. She told me that the last time she was in the area, she was able to find the whereabouts of Nancy. She's now living in another Southern California community, married, and living a suburban lifestyle. Andrea pays her a call with flowers. Knocks on her door. Nancy answers and is shocked to see Andrea. Andrea tells her that she came to apologize to her for her terrible behavior towards her, and that she wishes that she had never done all those mean things to her, and if there's anything she can ever do for her to just name it. Nancy tells her that she hasn't thought about it in all the years since, and that it isn't a big deal to her. She shrugs her shoulders, then calmly closed the door. Not slamming. Just closing. And she doesn't take the flowers. Andrea said that at that moment, a giant knot took over her stomach.
Marty is another story. In addition to not being able to go to Paris, Marty was cursed with two alcoholic parents who made his home life a total living Hell. They never took him or his brothers anywhere. They mentally abused them. All the terrible things alcoholic parents do to their kids is what happened with Marty. Marty wound up losing it. He's been in and out of therapy all these years. He hasn't been able to hold on to a job or a wife. Presently, he is on disability because he suffers from Agoraphobia and Panic/Anxiety disorder. Because of that, he can't go anywhere. Except for a few trips to Nevada, he still hasn't been anywhere. Andrea told me she looked him up, apologized for what she did, and offered to fly him to Paris on her dime. Marty explained the Agoraphobia affliction, and how he can't take her up on her offer. Andrea said that when Marty told her about his inability to travel, she felt like total shit. She had tears running down her cheeks at this point.
A quick footnote: Andrea's friend Emily, who took part in the backstabbing of Marty, is now a homeless drug addict, living on the skid row streets of the hometown. Her own family wants nothing to do with her. Andrea said she's tried to help her in the past, but she doesn't seem to want help.
I wish I could help everyone involved in this story. Especially Marty and Andrea. No one deserved the mean treatment that they got, but the latter-day Andrea doesn't deserve to feel like a pariah. It seems Andrea can't help anyone she harmed, especially herself. Several times, the school has wanted to honor Andrea with a Distinguished Alumni Award and a place on the school's Wall of Fame, but she's always declined.
Before we parted company after talking for about 4 hours, Andrea told me that she learned something from her younger sister. She entered the school after Andrea graduated. She was popular because she was genuinely nice to everyone, and was not too good to talk to anybody. Not a stuck up bone in her body. Andrea asked her how she managed her school social life so well? Her sister told her flat out that back in junior high, she was tired of hearing from classmates who had older siblings in high school saying what a snotty bitch her older sister was. She listened to them, watched Andrea, and learned what not to do.
Andrea and I got up. I paid the tab, although she wanted to. We exchanged cards with our respective phone numbers and email addresses, walked to her rent-a-car, hugged tightly, then she drove off to the old homestead. I think I had a trickle going in one eye myself.
Thank you for your patience.