My new memoir WOODEN & ME is available here at Amazon
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Downside of ‘Hello’ is ‘Goodbye’
“A stranger,” Will Rogers said, “is just a friend I haven’t met yet.”
Three years ago, Jongsoo was a stranger to me.
And then we met, crossing paths at the Ventura Aquatic Center community park. I was on my daily run going one direction around the soccer fields and he walked, aided by a cane, in the opposite. “Hi,” I said as we passed.
“HELL-OHHH!” Jongsoo replied in all capital letters with the “o” drawn out and punctuated with an exclamation mark.
Jongsoo not only greeted me with “HELL-OHHH!” whenever I saw him in the days and months that followed, often a few times a week, he would sing it with the same enthusiasm on each ensuing loop, sometimes a dozen times in one afternoon, as if every encounter was the first.
Soon we were exchanging a hug with the day’s first “HELL-OHHH” and high-fives thereafter. Jongsoo’s carbonated joy always added a lightness to my stride and heart.
Too, he made me laugh. For one thing, Jongsoo often walked with a transistor radio, sans earphones, blaring loud enough to scare away birds. Moreover, he sometimes did a few dance steps for my amusement.
The sight of Jongsoo and me trying to converse had to amuse all who saw us, an odd couple to be sure: he two decades older than me; me a foot taller; and neither of us understanding much of what the other was saying despite our pantomimes.
One day early on, Jongsoo was limping more than usual and through gestures I asked about his leg. He answered by displaying a scar that looked like a great white shark had taken a bite out of his hip and thigh. Through charades it became clear the shark had been a car.
Last week, Jongsoo gave me a note, in English, explaining he was leaving in five days and would not return for at least a year.
“Thanks for cheering me up whenever I see you at the park,” it also read. “Thank you for being my friend.”
The following afternoon I handed Jongsoo a return note of thanks with some questions about him. One, two, three days passed and I did not see him at the park. I feared I would not get to say goodbye to my friend.
Why had I not realized sooner that Jongsoo must be living with someone who could translate for us? Mad at myself, I recalled what sports writer Frank Graham once wrote about Bob Meusel, a gruff outfielder with the New York Yankees who in his fading playing days warmed up slightly: “He’s learning to say hello when it’s time to say goodbye.”
On the final day before Jongsoo would fly back to South Korea, as I was nearing the end of my run and about to leave the park, a VW Beetle honked and pulled into the parking lot. Jongsoo had insisted his daughter, Kim, drive him over one last time in hopes of catching me.
“HELL-OHHH!” Jongsoo sang.
“An nyoung!” I said back, after asking Kim for the Korean translation.
From Kim I learned that her father is 76 years old, has three children and his arranged marriage is closing in on its golden anniversary. He has been staying in Ventura with Kim, who came to American in 1994 to earn a doctoral degree in Special Education and remained here to teach, and her husband Cory, a software engineer.
I also learned that a taxi had struck Jongsoo five years ago in Seoul; his hip socket and part of his shattered femur needed to be replaced. How he now walks for one to two hours daily is remarkable and inspiring. Surgery and chemotherapy for colon cancer also did not slow him down for long.
After giving my friend a hug, I asked Kim how to say goodbye in Korean.
“An nyoung!” I said again, for the salutation she explained is the same going as arriving.
I learned to say hello when it was time to say goodbye – but now I’ll be ready to say hello when goodbye ends and Jungsoo and I meet again at the park.
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Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com.
Check out my new memoir WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece”
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