Vince and I were storybook, wonderful friends
August 8, 2011 | Darrell Pile
Vince and I were storybook, wonderful friends (like Spanky and our Gang). Such great memories. Vince’s mother was my "second mom." I am sending along a bunch of memory bytes from those days of growing up with Vince, to please share.
Just a few days ago, I thought of Vince  and I when we were young kids, riding our bikes to "Nibble Nook" for  a Reese's peanut butter cup, or to "Wades" to capture a few early  morning cream donuts with chocolate on top.
  Making forts from logs in the woods above  Vince’s house was one of the best memories.    
  Playing hide and go seek in the cupboards  and closets at the Hellane’s house; 
  Vince’s granddad singing songs while  squeezing fart sounds from his hands; 
  Skate boarding on Church Street; 
  Sled riding in Vincie’s yard... up and  down aaaaalot, and Prince running alongside; 
  The yellow “slip and slide” in Hellane’s  yard; 
  The player piano; 
  Mr. Shearer riding his bike on Wakefield  (and sadly we beat him in a challenge to race us on bikes to Maugansville and  back... Wish I could do that one over).
  Vince’s dad and Mr. Shearer dressing up  as Vikings with garbage lids as shields; 
  Vince’s dad’s leather Notre Dame  helmet; 
  The Hellane’s Ford car when the  floor board was wearing out and you could see the road beneath your feet; 
  Vince’s mom taking us to Ocean City  and the policeman giving her a hard time for waving her to go on through the  work area, and then saying that he had said to stop; 
  All the guys playing football in the  street; 
  David Roach being a good friend but  sometimes having meltdowns.  
  Baseball at Salem Avenue Elementary  School; 
  Wrestling with Vince’s mom until she  started to get hurt); 
  Selling strawberries but not wanting to  give people change (it just seemed wrong!), 
  Going to the Catholic School Hallowe’en  event as a guest and winning for having the best costume (and I was a Lutheran  infiltrate!); 
  Playing board games with Vince’s mom in  the evening (Scrabble, especially on Hellane’s yellow kitchen table... it might  have once been in our house, too); 
  Laughing so hard as Vince’s  mom tried to explain that there is such as word as "brawl" (not  bra); 
  The phonograph that you would crank, and  that had a needle; 
  Vince’s dad playing the piano; 
  The original wing of the Hellane house  facing Church Street that was wooden; 
  The Hellane’s basement full of neat junk;  incense; yep, clackers! 
  Playing doctors with Jamie Welsh (Vince,  Jamie and I were probably 6 yrs old) in the living room and getting busted by  Vince’s dad, who pretended to be paying no attention to us while he was playing  the piano; 
  Vince’s dad tuning pianos using a machine  that would show if the frequency was right (amazing back then); 
  Vince’s Aunt Margaret and most kind  grandmother... visiting them in Edgemont;  
  Playing in the woods (a great memory  combined with memories of wanting to chain ourselves to the bulldozers); 
  Placing a large rubber snake in front of  the bulldozer and scaring the driver out of his seat; 
  Going fishing on our bicycles at a river  beyond Cearfoss where my dad's septic tank business was located (the river had  an Indian name like Conococheague); 
  Watering the yard at night to catch  nightcrawlers for the next day’s fishing trip; 
  The swimming pool on Hellane’s patio; 
  The tree house we were building when a  big board slipped from my hand and hit Vince ("Vincie") in the  head big time; 
  and of course... Prince. (What a pal...  surely there is a doggy heaven!!!).
  Vince’s mom and dad gathering everyone  around to watch the reel-to-reel home movies that Vince, Sr. had taken of all  of us. When we watched the movies, I remember his dad playing them  backwards and watching someone (his dad I think) eating something  (maybe a sardine) and it would pop back out of his mouth in full  form?  I am laughing as I type. And, then, there was the player piano  playing, "Oh, when the saints go marching in" and "It’s a long  wayyyyy to tiparrrarareee" and “Bye, bye, Blackbird?” What memories!
    
  Vinceee and I used to lie on the ground  and wonder where the sky begins.  We both figured that it must be heaven  and that if we lived to be 50 years old, then that  is really old, and we  would find out just where heaven is.  We imagined our ancestors and family  being so happy together there. Well, Vinceee lived longer than planned  and he will be ready for us, along with granddad Hellane singing songs while  squeezing his hands together.
I read about Vince’s company tonight. How wonderful it must be. He found yet another way to be creative, albeit, a step beyond paving new roadways with "icky mud". Vince was quite a success and you guys are remarkable people. I am so sad for everyone.
While Vince's death still brings tears to our eyes, it must have been according to God's plan. Hundreds of people are shocked by his death and hopefully will learn to "cherish the moment." Also, some very fortunate people are recipients of his organs, and they in turn, will help bring renewed life for themselves and the hundreds of others that they, too, touch. Also, as a result of his death, there is likely a new kind of music being introduced in heaven (complete with black light posters)!
God bless you, Vince! Your friend,  Darrell 
    (Vince’s childhood friend who has for many years  been a hospital administrator, living in Texas with his family)

