Thursday, December 12, 2013
Marlin . . . In Memoriam
Kenneth Marlin Mathiesen, Jr.
1938-2013
Today I received notification of the recent death of a man who was one of my best friends in high school. I met Marlin in 1954 when my parents moved to a new town between my sophomore and junior years. For those two years, we were great friends. After graduation and my college career beginning a few days prior to his, he accompanied my parents as they drove me to the beginning of a 'whole new world'. Personal and professional moves over the intervening 57 years meant that we 'lost touch' and saw each other infrequently, primarily during holiday breaks and, later, at class reunions. We were last together in 2006 at the Fiftieth Class Reunion.
But during those two years, we accumulated a gamut of experiences that still live in rich memory. He was a stellar high school football player . . . a hard running half-back on our six-man team. Even more, he was an outstanding student. (He went on to become a physician like his father.) Mathematics has never been one of my strong academic suits . . . and the Physics class we took demanded some precision with formulae. Our combined efforts (with frequent assistance from his dad) produced some intriguing (to us ) experiments: we learned why the surface of bridges cooled more rapidly than roadways; we built 'radios' powered by razor blades, coiled wire and wire antenna that actually picked up the broadcast from a station in the state capital, some 35 miles away; but the one that was the most fun was building a still. The only product that came from that was distilled water, but we learned the fundamental "how to's".
We double-dated (the term will mean something to those of us of a 'certain age') to a Perry Como concert at Duke. He frightened me and our friend, Larry, one Sunday afternoon by driving his dad's big Oldsmobile 105 mph on a straight stretch on US Highway 64. Thank goodness we lived to remember that craziness. It was still a topic of conversation for us at the last reunion. Though his family were 'pillars' of the local Seventh Day Adventist Church, he was active in our Methodist Youth Fellowship, probably owing in large part to a girl friend's presence.
Of the 43 of us who received our high school diplomas that Spring evening in 1956, nine have died. First there was Irene ("Moosie"), followed (not in order) by Herbert ("Shane"), Nancy, Velna, Billy Joe ("Chubby"), Steve ("Speedy"), Tommy Louis, Newton, and now, Marlin. Something within wants to deny the rapid passage of those years and the subsequent mortality of those (then) youth. Perhaps there are "lessons" to be derived from pondering all that; but for now, as Mr. Hope sang, "Thanks for the Memories".
Satchel
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