Robert Wallace

My mom, Margie, died three years ago, after a ten-year battle with Alzheimer's.  I don't think anyone knows how badly I miss her, but I've seen Freddy Nachman's posts on Facebook and I'm wagering he misses his mom, Harriet, just as much. 

My Mom and her little family moved from Cleveland to Chicago at the beginning of high school.  After about one week of experiencing anti-Semitic remarks at her new school, feeling lonely and afraid, Margie approached a girl in gym class and asked her if she was Jewish.  "Yes", said Harriet, and a deep lifelong friendship began. 

When I was 7 years old, my little family moved from Chicago to Glencoe, less than 2 blocks away, on the same exact street, as Harriet, her husband, Marv, and their identical twin boys, Freddy and Frankie. 

Their friendship blossomed after we moved to California seven years later because somehow long distance calls and letters and packages sent and received are so special.

I'm not sure when it started, but Margie had Harriett's old Hyde Park High gym suit and sent it back to her on her birthday.  Then Harriet sent it back on Margie's birthday.  So it went back and forth twice a year for decades, along with lovingly funny birthday wishes.

After my Mom died, I found that old gym suit.  On a trip to Chicago, I gave it to Freddy.  Tag, you're it!