I would like very much to tell you a short story about Josie. Josie is not really my cousin. She shares a last name with my Family, but that’s about it We met and became friends in the Summer of 1995, the year I turned 20 for those of you who keep count of such minutiae.
Josie was one of those people who was always he center of the action, people circled around her like a little planet that had an irresistible gravity. People would float in and out of her life and through it all she was an affable person, even in the face of adversity.
I knew we would be great friends almost right away.
We became friends because I can’t tell pretty girls NO.
Ask any pretty girl who has asked me for something when I was under 20 and they can confirm (if they remember me) that I couldn’t answer in the negative when asked, I was totally without spine.
Josie needed help moving out of her crummy basement apartment, but the landlords were very “involved” and needed to be kept out of the matter. I enlisted some help and got to the job. A friend of the family came with a truck and we moved her out and into her new place as fast as possible. There was some open tension from the landlords, but the family friend was a Rugby player and the Landlord was trash. I myself was lifting packages great and small for 5 hours a night, and was no wimp. We moved furniture and belongings as fast as we could.
In hindsight, I’m pretty sure most of the people around Josie just looked at me like the loser who hung out. I’m not even sure if they were wrong. However, I met so many amazing people through Josie and loved those long summer days of just hanging around the local lighthouse or walking around in the dark night.
I wouldn’t have met anyone I know and love now had it not been for Josie. So Josie, I thank you.