Roy Exum Story

Just in case the link doesn't work for you--here is the story that Andy refers to in his column. Too good to miss.

Roy Exum: On New Year's Day

posted January 1, 2011

Roy Exum

One week ago today, the closest friend I’ve ever had in my life was laughing as we trudged through the morning snow towards mother’s front door and her bountiful Christmas Day lunch. Seconds later Bobby Caldwell suddenly collapsed beside me and died.

Bobby and I have talked, at least on the phone, literally every day for over 50 years. With his wife of five weeks kneeling in anguish and the medics working furiously, he was felled by a massive heart attack, and despite the most valiant efforts I have ever seen, he was pronounced dead when the ambulance got to Erlanger Hospital.

So allow me to veer from my customary “glad tidings” on New Year’s Day, because, in just the last few days, I have learned a way each of us can make 2011 the greatest year any of us has ever spent on earth. As a matter of fact, you can start right now by finding someone close and telling them simply that you love them.

We each have within us a spark that is the most powerful tool in all of life’s cabinet. But all too often we under utilize our ability to extol one another, to reach out, to comfort, to inspire and to help. It is so easy, it costs nothing, and believe me on this, the well won’t run dry.


So many people knew of our great friendship. Suddenly I find myself like the Lone Ranger without Tonto, Batman without Robin, Butch without Sundance. For the first time in my life, I know how a soldier feels when an enemy bullet finds his foxhole buddy, or the police officer who gets in the squad car without his backup after years of patrolling together.

For the first two mornings after the tragedy I woke up with the relief the nightmare was over, only to catch myself seconds later with the realization is wasn’t a bad dream – it was more. It happened. It was real, and somehow, with the love and grace of the Caldwell family, his widow and his son, I have found the strength and ability to forge on.

And then there is this. So many knew that after we first cemented our bond about the age of five – we lived three houses apart – we had been best friends for over half a century, or an “eternity” as a lot of our friends recalled.

Curiously, I had written about those who “die too young” earlier on Christmas Day and, unexplainably, I remembered what I myself had just written as I stood in the Emergency Room that same afternoon. What’s 50-plus years compared to eternity? Yes, I know within my heart I’ll be with Bobby again, and next time it will never end.

Why is it we wait for funerals to tell fun stories about each other? Why is it the sweetest words and greatest emotions imaginable are withheld until you stand and weep over the body of a pal who can no longer acknowledge them?

That is how we can make this New Year the best in which we’ve ever set sail.

Our resolutions ought to include more handwritten notes, more joyous hugs at weddings, more looks of admiration. What if we made a pledge to attend twice as many funerals this year than last, to send cards to two times the number of graduates, to make ten copies of a favorite recipe to share instead of five?

Let’s throw out the well-worn line, “Call me if there is anything I can do” and replace it with action instead of words. Take over some fresh flowers or baked cookies instead of “I’ve been praying for you.” (Trust me, you can tell them that more honestly when you hand over the cookies.)

Walk a sick man’s dog, cut a poor lady’s grass, throw a baseball with the kid whose dad has to travel. Don’t you see – money is nothing compared to “being there.” Thank the girl at the gas station. Wave at an oncoming car. Be the first to say “good morning,” especially to total strangers.

Let the guy who’s wrong into the turning lane, smile at a homeless man, wait for the next elevator, pick up somebody else’s wrapper. Tell a street-crew worker you appreciate him. Call a child on a losing team and say you heard he played well. Care about every person you meet.

It is so simple and so easy, and I will give you my guarantee that these little things will soon begin to make 2011 a very big year. Let’s start now, on the first day of the year. I believe it will work and I know those we love the very most will simply adore it.

I know this, too: Bobby Caldwell would love it if we’d shine our light.

Happy New Year.