Jimmy and Donna and the Importance of Living in Someone Else’s Mind

Serving a pallbearer for my former best friend led me to start this blog or collection of writing. Nathan was remembered at funeral presided over by preachers. My end will not be like that but I do want a way for people who have known me to connect up the way I did at that funeral.

My idea was to write about what I think and my life from time to time–mainly in the dark winter months when I am more likely to be indoors. I have included various specimens of written self so far. My idea was that it will be a public face for me after I die, but sometimes people stumble onto my online existence in current time.

Recently a dear friend from about age thirteen left a comment, having stumbling across my name on this WordPress site at danielforrest.org. Jimmy remembers me from that age and then his memories stop because he moved away and we never saw each other again.

Jimmy and I both had crew cuts back in that age of astronauts. He lived in a blonde brick home across from my Uncle Earle’s house. It had a carport on the righthand side.

We palled around, played basketball, and talked the way thirteen-year-olds do. I remember his easy smile and gentile disposition as much as I remember his personal form. What I remember most was an embarrassing situation.

I think I spent the night at his house and wanted him to spend the night at mine. He came over and we started out on what was a big deal at that age but the overnight was aborted. My father and mother got into a big fight over my dad’s drinking. There was noise and more. The details are gone but I know that Jimmy could not stay with me and I was embarrassed.

He was a good friend at a crucial time in my life and I still see his smiling face in my head. His leaving a comment for me about something I wrote touches me. The older I get the less I seem to exist in the way I did when I was younger and working. I do not have a regular wide audience.

He confirms to me when I need it that I am still here and count for something to people in general. Thanks, Jimmy. He also connects me to Donna.

She, too, left a comment. Unlike Jimmy I remember her cousin. We both remember Donna. Seems we were both in love with her.

I have always been shy and am more an introvert than not, though I can get quite wound up on a few cups of coffee. At thirteen I attempted to connect to Donna who was a kind of teen goddess to Jimmy and me. Brenda facilitated the connection.

Donna had beautiful golden skin and, like Jimmy, a bright white smile. I loved looking into her eyes but was afraid to hold her gaze. She had thick light brown curly hair and a beautiful figure. She was gorgeous.

My mind goes to seeing her and Brenda at a picnic table at the swimming pool across from the diving board at the end of the log dressing room. I think she and Brenda were sitting under an umbrella. Donna had on a two piece bathing suit–my mind says it was green or lime and checkered.

She is so stunning and I am so pleased to just be in her presence that I can not think of what to say and do. Man oh man would I love to travel back to that time to see our young selves. Two cute girls and my stumbling gangly self.

I think I expressed myself in some letters–not sure–and I do remember holding on to the idea that she would be my girlfriend. I remember once I got a car driving go Joanna, SC, to see her but not summoning the confidence to do so.

At 71 I see the importance of living in someone’s mind. Donna and Jimmy live in my mind and that they remember my young self delights me. Remembering them takes me out of my COVID funk and reminds me that I still have an audience. I exist in memory.

9 thoughts on “Jimmy and Donna and the Importance of Living in Someone Else’s Mind

  1. You have quite a memory. Thank you for such kind words. And there were lots of letters. I would run to the post office as soon as I got home from basketball practice to check our box.
    I love reading your posts. Especially the one I commented on. It brought back so many pleasant memories.
    I never get to see Brenda anymore since she lives in Florida. I was supposed to join them for Christmas as a surprise but my mom had a stroke and I couldn’t go. Then I thought I would see her when Betty Jo died last month but there was sickness in my house and I didn’t get to go to that either. I’m still holding out hope to see her soon.

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    1. I wanted to share a memory about the letters. I would save every letter and read it over and over. I had gone to visit my grandmother for a few days and when I got home my mother had thrown all my letters in the trash. I cried, I yelled, and I went out and dug them out of the trash. I hid them as best I could but at some point she found them and they were gone for good. I’m not going to bore you with all my memories; I could fill many pages. I just thought you might find this one amusing, me frantically digging through the trash.

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  2. I remember that night as well. My recollection is a little different. I think Butch had come home fairly late that night, and your mother began screaming at him for something she suspected him of doing. The confrontation totally freaked me out. I remember being so scared that night, but enough about that. It’s so surreal “talking” with you after all these years. My brother and I have so many fond memories of our days living in Saluda.

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  3. I hope Danny doesn’t get angry with me for posting so much on his page but I wanted to share this with y’all. I went to the funeral today and spent some time looking over some of the places I used to go. I went by the school but could not find where we used to swing and play basketball. I went by two of the places that Brenda used to live, the third place was gone. Lot of things have changed, lot of things have stayed the same. We went to the Saluda Museum. It is right beside the old theatre. There was a gentleman there, John Coleman, and he took us inside the old theatre. I never dreamed I would be able to go inside there again. Of course I had to take a picture. They have redone it and have recitals, town meetings, etc. there.
    My grandmother moved to Saluda in 1970. She first lived at 400 W Church Street and then at 504 W Church Street, almost directly across from Danny’s old house.. The houses looked so different.
    I will go back first chance I get to visit some the places I missed today. Danny, you have inspired to try my own blog so that I can communicate with old friends. I have truly enjoyed communicating with you and Jimmy. I tried Facebook and love finding old friends on there. But some of those people are crazy. Plus some man that I never heard of accepted a friend request from me. I have no idea who sent that, but it is kinda scary that I can friend someone I’ve never heard of.

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  4. I’m guilty of using Danny’s blog as a sort of texting platform, but I can’t help it. I have so many questions about certain people I remember from my days in Saluda. You and Danny are the only contacts I have made concerning Saluda in over 50 years. I am totally shocked and pleased. Just one question about your uncle’s jewelry store partnership. Did his partner happen to be James Pew. He lived across the street from us and next door to Earl Forrest, Danny’s uncle. I always thought he was the owner of the jewelry store.

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    1. That’s right, he and Mr. James owned the store.
      I’m on facebook and sometimes I look up people from my past. I am friends with lots of them. I really enjoy communicating with them and I get a lot of good tips on things, but some of the things out there from other people is really wild and crazy. Maybe I’m the crazy one for staying on facebook but for now the good outweighs the crazy.

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  5. I’m not on Facebook, but my wife,Diane, is. We have lived in Calhoun, Georgia for the past 20 years. If you or Danny ever want to get in touch and reminisce, my cell is 770-548-6562. I would welcome the conversation.

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  6. I’m getting a lot of texts from bloggers whom I’ve never heard of in the last 10 days or so. Are y’all experiencing the same?

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