![\"Leslie,](\"https:\/\/fromabirdseyeview.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/12\/leslie-at-101.jpeg\")
<\/a>Leslie, at age 10<\/p><\/div>\n
For months I watched new families arrive in the neighborhood, but, alas, there were no girls in sight.\u00a0 Then one summer day a 1956 Studebaker station wagon<\/strong> pulled into the driveway at 48 Madeline Court and it was filled with children.\u00a0 I dashed over to the car and saw a girl my age. \u00a0She was leaning out of the rear window so I ventured up and introduced myself to the person who would become my lifelong friend \u2026 Leslie Sherman<\/strong>. She seemed friendly enough, explaining that they had driven across country from New Jersey.\u00a0 Then she suddenly whipped around, picked up a small bar of hotel soap<\/strong> and asked if I\u2019d like to buy it for a nickel.\u00a0 Would I???!!!!\u00a0 I was so excited to have a potential friend move in right across the street<\/em> that I would have paid a whole dollar!<\/p>\n Before I could fish a nickel out of my pocket, Leslie\u2019s mom discovered her daughter\u2019s entrepreneurial scheme. Naturally, she was\u00a0mortified<\/strong> that the Sherman\u2019s introduction to the neighborhood consisted of Leslie hawking free hotel soap to anyone foolish enough to buy it.\u00a0 Like me.\u00a0 But that first transaction, when we were both 7 years old, became the basis of our friendship<\/strong>.\u00a0 We laughed about it in almost every conversation for the rest of our lives; I always chastised her for trying to swindle me, while she chided me for being stupid enough to actually pay<\/em> for free soap.<\/p>\n Despite that rather shaky beginning, from that moment on we became fast friends. \u00a0Each day on our half-mile walk to school and back we shared secrets and plotted adventures<\/strong>.\u00a0 In retrospect, we really couldn\u2019t have been more different. She was as bright as a penny, excelling in every subject.\u00a0 Let\u2019s just say … I did not.\u00a0 Social skills, however, were not her strong suit, while I was gregarious and outgoing \u00a0She liked cats, I liked dogs. \u00a0She was a Camp Fire Girl, I was a Girl Scout. My idea of a fun game was paper dolls; she liked to play in the dry creek bed with bugs. She was book smart,\u00a0<\/strong>clear-headed and logical; I was\u00a0street smart,\u00a0<\/strong>emotional and impulsive\u00a0.\u00a0\u00a0 But somehow, it just worked.\u00a0 I think we both admired in each other the traits we didn\u2019t possess.<\/p>\n We became inseparable, sharing all the silly things that young girls do. \u00a0The high point of every Saturday was getting our twenty-five cent allowance and walking a mile to the Five and Dime<\/strong>\u00a0at Nave Shopping Center. \u00a0<\/strong>We would spend an hour poring over our choices of candy bars and\u00a0comic books. \u00a0Even there we differed; she would read about the adventures of\u00a0Superman<\/strong><\/em> and I would laugh with\u00a0Archie<\/strong> and Veronica<\/strong><\/em>.<\/p>\n As pre-teens we enjoyed our annual summer trip into San Francisco<\/strong> with her dad.\u00a0 He would take us to lunch at the Cathay House<\/strong> in Chinatown and then to Blum\u2019s<\/strong> on Union Square for hot fudge sundaes.\u00a0 Looking back, his tolerance knew no bounds, for in later years he also took us to Peter, Paul and Mary<\/strong> concerts in the City two years running and patiently waited for us in the car while we listened to what he referred to as \u201cyowling\u201d<\/strong>.<\/p>\n 1967 – the year of the Vietnam discussion at Tahoe<\/p><\/div>\n My parents took her on every family vacation to Lake Tahoe,<\/strong> where we made memories in sunshine and snow.\u00a0 We loved it when my parents would go out to dinner and leave us at the cabin with\u00a0Swanson\u2019s TV dinners<\/strong> and a television set with rabbit ears that got ONE station from Reno.\u00a0 We would lie in bed, watching that old TV and laugh until our stomachs hurt.<\/p>\n As we got into high school we accumulated more friends, but never to the exclusion of each other and her trips to Tahoe with our family continued. \u00a0In the summer of 1967 we were on the beach in Tahoe City (Leslie reading\u00a0TIME <\/em><\/strong>and me perusing\u00a0Seventeen)\u00a0<\/em><\/strong>when two boys wandered over. \u00a0I was thrilled – until Leslie launched into a discussion of the Vietnam War,<\/strong> the \u201cdomino theory\u201d and stemming the tide of communism in Southeast Asia.\u00a0 Needless to say, the boys were quickly overwhelmed and made a speedy exit. I just shook my head – there was no changing her.<\/p>\n Later that year she suffered injuries that would plague her for the rest of her life. \u00a0She was spending the night at my house, listening to the Beatles and eating junk food. \u00a0We ran out of po<\/strong>tato chips and TAB <\/strong>so she decided to walk to the corner store for more provisions .\u00a0 When too much time had passed and she hadn’t returned, I ran down the block. \u00a0The street was cordoned off \u00a0and police lights were flashing.\u00a0 She had been hit by a car<\/strong>, catapulting her into the windshield, injuring her head, back and hips.<\/p>\n After high school we went off to college and our paths varied.\u00a0 As the years passed, we both rounded off our edges.\u00a0 She became more social and I became smarter.\u00a0 We both had good careers and were lucky enough to work in San Francisco<\/strong>\u00a0and would occasionally meet for lunch. Without fail, we always contacted each other on birthdays and at Christmas. \u00a0Although we didn\u2019t see each other often, we kept up enough to know what was going on in each other\u2019s life.<\/p>\n Leslie, at our 20th high school reunion<\/p><\/div>\n Last August, she called on my birthday only to discover that I had chickenpox<\/strong>.\u00a0 She burst out laughing \u2013 \u201cHow could you not have had them when I did?\u00a0 We were together every day!\u201d\u00a0 She made me laugh too, just listening to her hearty guffaw<\/strong>. She updated me on her recent activities – she was full of plans for the future. \u00a0Then she began to reminisce about the good times of our childhood. \u00a0For some reason, she just needed to talk that day. \u00a0We spent more than an hour on the phone, laughing and remembering. I am grateful that we each ended the conversation by saying \u201cI love you\u201d<\/strong>.<\/p>\n Because on November 21,<\/strong> suddenly and without warning, she died of a massive internal infection. \u00a0 I did not find out about it until last week because, true to form, the passwords to\u00a0the address book on\u00a0her computer were in Greek and Latin.<\/strong> \u00a0I have had a difficult time reconciling myself to a world without her in it. Certainly it is a dimmer place without her dry wit, keen intelligence and loving nature. \u00a0Personally, my life will now be different. \u00a0She was the touchstone to my childhood, the only person with whom I could share memories about the neighborhood, our teenage pranks and our early hopes and dreams.<\/p>\n I\u2019ve made a lot of friends since that first fateful meeting in 1957, but no one ever replaced my first best\u00a0friend.\u00a0<\/strong>\u00a0Now she is gone and the space in my heart where she once resided is empty. I take solace in knowing that she is free of pain, undoubtedly somewhere hawking soap<\/strong> to the unsuspecting masses.\u00a0 And laughing.\u00a0 Definitely laughing.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" By Suzanne Sparrow Watson In the spring of 1957 a housing development rose like an oasis in the field across from our parent\u2019s home.\u00a0 Twenty mid-century homes were built, complete with aqua appliances and pink tile bathrooms.\u00a0 I was the … read more<\/a><\/a>