A Friday Phone Call

It was a telephone call from out of the blue.  It turned into a call I'll never forget.

I walked into the house Friday morning after doing some lawn work.  

The phone rang.  I looked at the "Caller ID."

"Doug Abromeit," it said.

Unlike my usual "Unknown or Anonymous Caller" reactions of letting it ring, I wasted no time picking up the phone and walking to the living room.

Before my high school classmate had a chance to identify himself, I lit into a funny story about a situation long ago that Doug and I shared. 

About halfway through the story, Doug broke in.  

"You must have that caller ID," he said. 

After commentary on the advantage of caller ID, the topic moved on to retirement and Doug's plans for the future----putting his house in Hailey, ID (near Sun Valley) on the market, maybe even finding a place to live in the Selle Valley.

That's when I told him that we live in the Selle Valley within "spitting" distance of our fellow classmate Gary Finney. 

Doug said he had looked at property possibilities on a couple of trips up here.  His plans indicated a move possibly by late summer or fall.

Our conversation focused for a time on our elderly mothers.  Doug's mother Betty, a longtime beloved, local elementary teacher, is 90 this year, still driving.  

But Doug emphasized the need to be closer to home as she continues to age.

We talked about and chuckled through a few other topics.  Quickly, nearly half an hour had passed when I finally said, "You must have had a reason for calling me."  

After all, I hadn't seen Doug for years, even though I'd heard about his impressive career and had even read a brief story in Newsweek Magazine a few years back, quoting him as director of the U.S. Forest Service National Avalanche Center.   
http://www.fsavalanche.org/

Doug and I first met as 5-year-olds, attending Sister School at St. Joseph's Catholic Church in Sandpoint and later as Saturday morning Catechism students. 

He went to Washington School, while I attended to Lincoln.  So, we all became public school classmates when we hit the old junior high, now the Sandpoint Events Center.

Doug and I also attended the University of Idaho---English majors.  We sat side by side in the top row in one class where neither of us much appreciated the teaching skills of the "teacher" who was instructing us on how to be English teachers.

In that class, we budding teachers talked a lot or wrote notes while "the example" clear down there at the front of the classroom droned on.  I think we spent a lot of time observing his strange lip movements. 

As the class term moved on, I saw less and less of Doug.  Later, I learned he took the class a second time and passed it.  Doug did some teaching early in his career at Sandpoint Junior High.  I'm sure his mother Betty was proud, and I learned that he was quite popular with his students. 

Well, back to the telephone conversation.  On Friday, Doug chuckled at my question of why he was calling and then said something to the effect of "who cares why . . . I've enjoyed our visit."  

To which I enthusiastically concurred. 

His purpose was to let me know that he'd like to contribute some memories to my research about the 50 years of Schweitzer.  After all, he worked with our classmates Chris Thompson, Gary Johnson and Dann Hall in the ski rental shop that first year that Schweitzer opened. 

We talked about the Schweitzer story, which I've pretty much completed, but I told him I'd like to compile anyone's memories and find a way to post them permanently.

Our conversation ended with plans to maybe team up on some writing adventures.  He asked for my email address and we said "good bye."  

I heard from him again the next morning via email.  In my response letter to him, I suggested that maybe when he finally arrived in Sandpoint, we could team up on "the book" about Schweitzer.

I was genuinely excited about having another writer, a classmate, longtime friend and possible new resident to Selle for future adventures with the written word.  In fact, I couldn't stop thinking about how much fun it would be to have yet another classmate right here in the neighborhood.

Sadly, it will not happen.  

Yesterday morning I learned that Doug, the man of adventure, the friend to many, the expert on avalanches, the son who wanted to come home to be closer to his aging mother and his beloved brother Duane died Sunday.

He was mountain biking near Sun Valley with friends and collapsed.  He was doing what he loved when he took his last breath. 

Doug's sudden passing has stunned scores of longtime friends, colleagues and loving family, including his wife Janet.   

What will not be has saddened all of us who could hardly wait for this fine man, our friend,  to return home where we could rekindle our individual friendships that started so long ago. 

I don't spend much time talking on the phone these days, but Friday's conversation with Doug makes me glad I picked up when I heard it ring.  I'll cherish the memory.

RIP Doug Abromeit.  You lived a phenomenal and inspiring life.