A Second Chance

I've since realized that a great part of our lives deal with relationships, whether it would be with your family, friends, business, church, etc, and so it's very important to cultivate them, grow them, love them in whatever capacity is appropriate.  And as a part of being human, we've made mistakes in those relationships that require forgiveness on our part, and hopefully with humility, we would be given a second chance.  And likewise, we would hope to forgive those who have wronged us, even though some circumstances would be difficult.

I am thankful for those who have given me a second chance. 

Of all the of numerous examples that would sufficiently portray this, I go back to the 7th grade for a little example that still has a profound meaning to me this day.  It would have gone unnoticed, like a lot of things we do growing up, but I still remember "this" one.

During lunch period one day, I noticed some guy looking at me in the lunch room.  His name is Charlie Gatz.  Being a smart-alec, and not so sure why I felt threatened by him, I shot to him (as to challenge him)  "Don't look at me!"  He continued to stare me down..."Don't look at me!"  It was the battle of wits now, but he finally relented and looked away.  I had won.  How rude, right?  Once again, I still don't know why I decided to treat him that way.  And to be honest with you, I didn't really think much about it afterwards.

Earlier that year, one of our good neighbors moved away.  They lived at the end of the cul de sac.  I only remember our friend by his first name, Buddy.  I believe he was a year younger than me, a short black kid with a lot of energy.  He was part of the neighborhood group that would play street football, and baseball with a tennis ball and a whiffle bat.  The front of his house plot formed the first base line.  It was a sad day watching them drive off.

A little while later in the year a new family moved into that home.  The father was in the US Navy, the mother was of Korean descent. And they have two sons, Charlie and Andy Gatz.  What?!  Yes, that Charlie Gatz.  Now that he was part of the neighborhood, he somehow became "cool" with me.  I don't remember speaking to him until that first day at the bus stop that took us to the 7th grade center we attended (Eugene J. Butler).  I hopped on the bus first and after taking a seat towards the back, I invited Charlie to sit with me.  I knew he was in the band because he carried his instrument to and from school.  I found out that he played saxophone.  We really got to know each other that day and I felt that we were going to be good friends.

"But, Vlad, if you were already learning how to play the trumpet, why didn't you know who he was?  Weren't you in the band too?"

So let's fill in the gap from the previous post (The Accidental Trumpet Player) and now.  In Jacksonville, the band programs started in six grade.  In the six grade center, we had only one assigned school teacher, just like in elementary school.  One day a week, for an hour or so, the students in band would leave their regular classroom to go to band class.  It was fun for the first few times as we were learning how to play our instruments...but to get straight to the point...it was becoming apparent that I was sucking at it, really bad.  It didn't help that I had a teacher from hell, not the band teacher, my regular teacher (do you all remember Mrs. Buck?...it was an unfortunate name for her).  She gave me a hard time about leaving her class for band...and then because of her guilt trip, she gave me a hard time for not going to band practice.  At least I learned how to deal with difficult people from her experience, but I digress.  Ultimately, my desires to learn how to play the trumpet were no longer there, and in less than a year, I quit band altogether.

This is where looking back in life, I realized how important relationships are, and that we should seek to build them, because we need each other, whether we know it at the time or not.

Knowing that Charlie was in the band, that piqued my interest in picking up my trumpet again, outside of school.  I asked him to bring music home for the trumpet, and we would start playing the pieces in my garage.

I still sucked at it, but having a personal friend that was in the band just gave me encouragement to keep pressing forward.  We had another neighborhood friend in the band that played the flute.  He was already attending the junior high school.  We were the garage band trio.  After 7th grade ended, Charlie and I were invited to attend summer band at that junior high school (Jefferson Davis), and then because that program ended abruptly after a week, we were invited to attend the high school summer band program.  I learned how to march as well as improve in my trumpet playing skills.  I met another trumpet player there that is now one of my best friends to this day.  I progressed so well that summer, that I made it to the top band program at the junior high school when Fall came around.  And to top it off, during that Fall season, I was privileged to march with the high school band, even though I was only in 8th grade at the junior high school.  It was the same high school that hosted the band competition I attended just three years earlier.

All because Charlie Gatz moved into my neighborhood, for which I am thankful.

Remember how I had forgotten that I was rude to Charlie in the cafeteria?  Well, he didn't.  Sometime during our friendship, he reminded me of that incident.  He also told me how surprised he was that I was friendly to him at the bus stop.  He thought we were forever enemies, since I was the bully.  But he gave me a chance to be his friend, and he didn't judge me based on that incident alone.

Thanks, Charlie.  You were the friend that I needed at that time of my life.  And thanks for giving me a second chance, because I think you gave me a lot more than that.