Thursday, June 15, 2017

KENNETH GRAHAM R.I.P.

Kenny was one of my oldest friends. I've known him since we were kids. We grew up in the same town, and I mention him in some of my poetry, including in The South Orange Sonnets. We spent time in each other's homes. When we were teenagers we made trips to Manhattan, we double dated, crashed parties, and shot hoops. He was always the calm one, I was always restless.

His father drove a taxi that had its office beneath the apartment his large family lived in back then (we're talking the 1940s and '50s). Kenny was the oldest, and since I left town at 18, I didn't get to know his siblings except for his late brother Raymond, just below him in age. Both Kenny and Ray towered above most people and were natural athletes. Ray was offered a basketball scholarship to some college but joined the paratroopers and ended up in Viet Nam. He survived battles but succumbed to other health challenges in later years.

Their mother was a strong voice against racism in our community. Their father, as I remember him, was more reserved, like his oldest son. Kenny was pretty unflappable. I was all high energy and outrage and addicted to new experiences. Kenny never lived far from where he grew up and adapted his athletic abilities to tennis, becoming a private coach on his own time and a school coach for his nine-to-five.

When I moved back to South Orange in 1999, after being away for close to forty years, the first person I ran into was Kenny, and he immediately made a joke about a girl I was dating in 1959. We had a lot of chuckles over the years. I had expected to see him at my 75th birthday party last month, we talked on the phone beforehand and I emailed him about it but he never showed up and I missed him being there.

But that had been my experience when we were teenagers as well. Sometimes he just wouldn't show and no questions would be asked. Only a few months earlier, he had called me and said he was just thinking back on the old days and there weren't many people around who were there except us. We talked for a long time about those who were gone or we'd lost touch with, had some laughs, and some quiet moments. It was a good, loving conversation that I am now very grateful we had.

Kenneth Graham (as he chose to call himself on his Facebook page) was a calming presence everywhere he went and will be remembered for being an exceptionally decent and kind person. My condolences to all his family and friends.

1 comment:

Unknown said...

Stumbled upon this blog. A friend + I knew Kenny + hung out w him off + on for abt 2 yrs in the late 60s.We first met him @ Dodds bar. We had finished college and were working as social workers in Newark. He prob thought of us as the crazy hippie Bacardi + rum girls but we had wheels + he was always game for going into NYC to hear music with a few other strays of his or ours. It was a short but memorable part of my life. Every few yrs, I looked him up out of curiosity. Last saw him in the 90s when I returned (from Oakland, Ca where I've lived for decades) to West Orange for a visit. Then around 2004, I visited again. The same friend, Judy,and I drove to the park in S.O., down S.O. Ave and to tennis club in W.O.looking for him. Funny because even in the late 60s, I don't think any of us exchanged phone #s. We often went looking and easily found him "on the stoop." or at the tennis courts. Met Raymond once + the mother. Kenny intrigued + tho he seemed reserved + somewhat guarded around us, he did have a great deep laugh. Anyway, I was stunned to read an obit + was sad all day. Felt better when I found your post. It humanized him and some of the recollections rang so familiar. I am glad he was so well regarded. Your post is a yr old. Not sure you'll ever see this but if you do, I'd like to order South Orange Sonnets. Not available from cursory check I did. How??
Thank you so very much for writing about Kenny.

With appreciation
Ellen