ADVENTURE

 At precisely 2pm on a sunny Saturday in July 1948, a 12 cylinder, box-shaped sedan with window shades,  pulled up to an ancient house on West Elm Street in New Bedford, Massachusetts.

An "ear-shattering" blast from the automobile horn let everyone know that a gentleman had arrived.

That gentleman was my seventeen year old friend, Courtney Gilbert, who had come to get his fourteen year old buddy to accompany him on some of his many adventures.  For instance, today we would visit the local art theater to view the "Shark Woman" movie that showed how a bare-breasted native woman spent her life in a canoe.

Later, we would visit the home of one of Courtney' many girl friends and survey the "pinup boys" pictures plastered on her bedroom walls.  This was, of course, under the watchful eye of her father, who worked delivering milk for the dairy where I had also worked. 

It was a mystery to me, how Courtney always had girlfriends. He was three years older than his schoolmates, was pasty faced, and regardless of the weather, always wore a double-breasted dark suit and conservative necktie. He topped this costume with a soft gray fedora.

When the precursor of FACEBOOK, the SLAMBOOK, was circulated, the usual comment on Courtney's page was "creepy." But he was my friend and I liked him, creepy or not.

Courtney lived with his mother and once when she wasn't home, he showed me a closed-off room that probably was his father's den. It was filled with every kind of camera and projector imaginable. I assumed that Courtney's father had been a big shot in the film industry during the thirties and Coutney's mother was keeping his memory alive by insisting that her son wear clothing similar to that worn by her husband.

All conjecture on my part.

STORIES

In the 8th grade at the Thomas Rodman School,  Courtnry and I wrote stories for the 8th grade newsletter.  Let me show a couple of entries.

I wrote "Peter the Mean Little Rabbit."

"Once upon a time, in the midst of Mrs. Snodgrass's cabbage patch there lived a rabbit named Peter.

Now, Peter was a mean little rabbit and one day ..."

(And more of the same.)

Now, let me show Courtney's entry in its entirety.

"Jim makes a Decision"

"Jim stood on the corner, hesitantly, with the fateful letter in his hand. It had taken courage to write that letter, and a lot of it.

No one knew that he had written it, for it had been done in strict secrecy. If that dreadful letter became public property, it meant ridicule and shame for Jim.

It was very hard to make a momentous decision without anyone to consult.  If he could just talk to someone about it, someone, anyone - but no, no one could be confided in, even his best friend.

Well, he had gotten this far, as far as the mail-box that is. There was no use in turning back now. Whether or not this document would change his entire life, he did not know. 

He hoped it would, but we have all been taught that any step forward is better than one backward, so Jim dropped the letter into the mail-box.

As it went down the chute, the address stood out in a bold hand,

Atlas Muscle Building Co.

(Muscles in a Minute)

417 4th Ave.

New York

N.Y."

Now! How is that as the work of an 8th grader?  Yes... Courtney was a gifted writer.

DETECTIVE STORY

One Sunday, Courtney invited me to have Chinese food with him at his home.  During the meal he seemed nervous and I figured that there was something important that he wanted to show me.

After the meal he handed me one of those illustrated detective magazines that were popular in the 1940's.

He had me turn to a certain page where there was printed a detective story written by none other than Courtney Gilbert. That was a surprise, but a bigger surprise was when I read the story and learned that the main character was named Joe Vaughan!

(A few pages over from Courtney's story was a photographic article about a murder in a Westport, Massachusetts family, and a member of that family was the newspaper delivery helper, Charlie, whom I had fired.)

I've been trying unsuccessfully for many years to obtain a copy of that detective magazine, which I think was titled Detective Stories or something like that. I'm sure that someone has a collection that contains the issue I seek.  I'll keep searching.

FAREWELL!

After the 8th grade, I became a High School Freshman, while Courtney quit school to work as a soda jerker in Downtown New Bedford.

A rush of patriotism caused him to do something I thought would not be the proper place for his writing talent... He joined the Navy.

One day, after his enlistment was over, he passed out while digging clams and drowned.  A sad end to a great talent.

Rest in Peace, my Friend!

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Go, and practice your writing.