This morning, I was watching, as I most always do, the 7am Sportscenter (I record it since it’s laden with commercials). Just as I was about to forward through one set I saw the beginnings of a commercial for a new version of Gatorade, talk about taking me back…bear with me as I take a trip in time:

It was the summer of 1969 and we had a bungalow on Beach 40th St. in Far Rockaway. It was our second year on that street and while bodysurfing one day I met a guy from one street over (Beach 39th)…Frank Heller, we hit it off pretty quickly over our love of all things ocean. He introduced me to a friend of his a few days later, Greg Gallagher who had just bought what was brand new at the time, at least on the east coast…it was called a “belly board”…today everyone and his sibling has them, they are now mostly made of foam and are pretty cheap..back then they were made like mini surfboards with double fins and were pretty pricey..The three of us spent that summer mostly wet all the time.

During that summer we spent a LOT of time at Greg’s bungalow, his mom was home all the time, most other parents were working (Far Rock was affectionately nicknamed “the workingman’s riviera”) and was always offering lunch and snacks. We swam, we surfed, we played cards, we listened to music with a cadre of other folks all usually gathering on Greg’s porch (every house had one, it was a gathering place) or on the occasional bad weather day, in the small “living room”. I also met his father, Charlie, a larger than life character, with a booming voice, a fabulous handshake and a smile that lit up the room.

Charlie was one of the preeminent labor mediators of his time and was frequently away working on one negotiation or another. However, when he was “home” he would always be part of the group. He loved tennis (something, at that age, this Bronx boy son of a bus driver and a secretary, knew nothing about) and asked if we wanted to play. Frank and I were a bit suspect as we didn’t want to leave the water even for a short while, but Greg encouraged us, so one sunny day when Charlie asked we said “sure” (he was ALWAYS Charlie, never “Mr. Gallagher…on the very first introduction he said that while he appreciated the sign of “respect” we were never to use a title with him, as respect was something earned, not a function of age, position or birth, his name was Charlie and that would be fine, I think that might be why, to this day, I hate being referred to as Mr. Fitzpatrick).

He took his tennis seriously, and he reserved some time on some of clay courts that were then in Far Rockaway as he said they were far more fun than the badly kept cement courts that were also around. He also told us we needed to dress properly (that time was still “tennis whites” required on those clay courts) and we needed proper tennis shoes for safety. Well, neither Frank nor I had any of that (denim cutoffs and converse were the “athletic” attire of the day) so Charlie took us to an upscale sport shop and had us outfitted properly. When my dad, saw me going off to play one weekend later, and asked where I had managed to get that “attire” I told him, he walked over to Charlie’s house that evening and wanted to pay him, Charlie just chuckled, told him it was his pleasure, not to worry about it and they sat and shared some beers while we went off to sit on the boardwalk, listen to the waves and watch the sunset [with a few beers of our own that Greg had managed to scoop up on the sly, lest you get all crazy we were 17, the “legal age” was 18 and no one was driving anywhere…no one had a license since 18 was the age in NYC to even get a permit.]

That brings me back to what spurred this long winded memory…The first time we played (we played doubles with each one of us alternating as Charlie’s partner as he patiently taught Frank and I the rules and how to keep score), he went into the clubhouse and came out with a new sports drink…Gatorade…the only one that existed then…the classic green…it was cold and tasted fabulous and really did work on keeping us hydrated and energized. On the was back from the courts he told us the story of how it came to be. That’s another thing I remember about him..he never talked to us like “kids” always conversationally as if we were his contemporaries, all the time educating us while listening to anything we had to say.

The following summer Greg’s mom didn’t look quite the same, she seemed tired a lot, I found out that fall, (we stayed in touch over the other 10 months of the year) that she had passed quickly from a very virulent cancer.

Greg and Charlie did come back to Far Rockaway the summer after, but something was not quite the same in either of them. Greg was a bit sullen, Charlie’s smile had less of a twinkle…We did surf and play tennis but Greg, Frank and I also spent time in the evening, listening to the Woodstock Album that had come out and enjoying some herbal therapy while we listened.

That following fall, Greg reached out to tell us that Charlie had met a wonderful woman who Greg was also fond of and that we should expect an invite to the wedding scheduled for NYC that spring.

About two weeks later (give or take some time, it was, after all 50 odd years ago ) He called and said simply “he’s gone”….after the first question I asked “who’s gone”, the next was “what happened”. He slowly, and with occasional breaks, told the story..

Charlie had gone to the doctor for his annual physical, was given a clean bill of health and a pat on the back from his long time Doctor wishing him well on the upcoming wedding, he told him to get dressed and he’d see him in his office to chat a bit. Some time went by, the doctor was taking some calls while waiting and he didn’t, at first, realize how much time had passed. He asked his nurse if Charlie has simply left and she said she’d not seen him..[small office, it was the last appt of the day]. The doctor went back to the exam room and found Charlie lying on the floor, he had passed away…..

To this day I don’t know if it was a heart attack, stroke or aneurysm or something else, it really doesn’t matter. Greg never came back to Far Rockaway after that, he was well taken care of financially we were now in our early 20’s, and were just finishing college. We did stay in touch, increasingly less, but the occasional phone call (no email or texts back then), and he talked about getting together at his place in the city, but life got in the way for all of us and we never did….

To this day, the taste of cold, classic Gatorade immediately brings back those same memories..it was a very special time over a few years filled with friendship, love, joy, laughs and being around many adults who gave us guidance but also gave us an incredible amount of support and freedom to grow up.

Charlie Gallagher lives in a special place in my heard along side my dad and Uncle Dom..I’m so lucky to have been around them…

I am now at an age where it is increasingly frequent that folks I know and hold dear for many different reasons are starting to “fade”…what won’t fade are the memories and the warmth that being around them even for a short while still provide. This house agnostic can only hope that one day, when his ashes are scattered on the beach to be swept into the ocean that somewhere such memories and warmth will continue on.