My friend Burton

Growing up in the Bronx in the 1930s and '40s was a mostly happy and secure experience. We survived the Great Depresion and World War II, unscathed. High school was a challnge. My friends were bright and most applied to and were accepted by The bronx High School of Science. Burt and did also by default. Started around 1947 it was an experimental school that prepared kids for scientific and medical careers. Almost everyone went to college and most were succesful in their careers.

I lived in a six story appartment building in West Bronx and my best friend, Burton, was one story up. Burt was a loyal friend and a very funny guy. His sense of humor, often, self-deprecating, kept me laughing all through hich school. After graduation I went out of town to Cornell and he attended the City College of New York. He worked as a teacher for a while and also a writer for TV comediens. Neither occupation suited him and eventually he pursued a successful real estate career with his brother. Always introspective, he became in later years, a poet and has published three volumes of verse. The last was nominated for a national award.

Last month, afte receiving an e-mail announcing the 60th reunion of my high school graduating class, I contacted Burt and we both decided to attend. It was a nice affair, only the fouth reunion our class ever held, and my first. Although I enjoyed the event, held a an upscale catering hall in Battery Park, I found most of the attendees more motivated to boast about their own success than to learn of what anyone else had accomplished. All but Burt. He was the same jovial, caring friend I remembered. We got together the day before for lunch with my wife, and renewed our friendship,laughing, reminiscing, and vowing to see each other more often in the future.

The master of ceremonies for the event provided a short talk, providing statistics on the large proportion of the class who had become scientists, physicians, lawyers, and other pretigious professonals. Our most illustrious class member won the Nobel prize in physics. Another old friend, Rick, a retired brain surgeon, was quick to point out, "Yes, but I beat him out for the physics award." (I assured him that his prize was by far the more impressive.) Midway through the list of successful attainments Burt leaned over to me, whispering, "He hasn't gotten to my category yet...beggar." I still laugh when relating this remark. Later, as we looked over the group of infirmed septagenerians we had become, he remarked, "The next reunion will have to be a seance."