In 1964, I met my friend John Wesche in Watson Dormitory at Syracuse University. He was the first person I met as a freshman and he has been my friend since that day – not simply “friend” in the sense of someone you have known for a long time, but “friend” in the sense of someone you can go without seeing or talking to for a while, but pick up the conversation right where it left off when you meet again. Close friend. Enduring friend. Friend you know a lot about. Friend you know little about. Friend who has made me cry – twice...









