The date was July 4, 1976. The USA made an especially big deal about Independence Day as this was the 200th anniversary. We cruised over to Rehoboth to watch the fireworks in Dick’s old station wagon. It may have been something like a ’65 Chevy Nova. It had a distinctive rusted top. Andy and I didn’t care WHAT the car looked like – it was July 4, and we were going to Rehoboth with Dick.
Dick Gooner was a little older than Andy and I. He first became known to us as a friend of Andy’s dad, and took it upon himself to mentor the two of us. We just viewed him as an older friend.
Once we got into town, for some reason I don’t recall Dick suggested he just let us off near the boardwalk, go park the car, and catch up with us later. The decision was probably made quickly, while sitting in traffic. I thought it was a terrible idea. The place was packed with people, and I couldn’t imagine we would ever locate each other. We didn’t even have a plan, other than to meet on the boardwalk.
Dick was insistent and unconcerned, so Andy and I got out and headed up to the boardwalk. We killed a little time people watching, actually girl watching, which was likely the most important thing on my 15-year-old mind. At some point, we began to discuss trying to locate Dick. We must have surmised that he would be in a central location. And then, there he was, just standing like a statue, not walking, on the boardwalk at the end of Rehoboth Avenue. His comment was “I figured if I stood here, sooner or later you would walk by.”
Once it got dark, the fireworks were launched from the beach directly in front of the Avenue. They were as large and loud and as close as any I have viewed in my entire life. Everything was large that evening. At the age of 15, I was experiencing a new understanding of friendships (especially with older friends), and the pleasure they can bring. This would have been the last summer before I started spending them working full-time. There was an extra degree of freedom that summer which would eventually be chipped away by the responsibilities we slowly begin to take on as we age.
Odd that I have such a vivid memory of July 4, 1976. As I consider why that is, I would conclude it wasn’t just because it was our nation’s bicentennial. It wasn’t because I spent it as a 15 year old watching girls. It wasn’t because the fireworks were the biggest and loudest ever. Nor was it the fact we rode in a rusted out ’65 Nova station wagon.
I’m pretty sure it was mostly Dick Gooner, and this young man’s willingness to take two young teens under his wing and spend the evening with them. It was Dick’s quirky personality, the cadence of his voice, the way he referred to a new pair of jeans as “newbies”. It was his confidence, and lack of concern that we would all be hopelessly separated, never to reunite, in a mass of people. It was Dick’s willingness to invest in our lives.
Dick passed away in 2018. By the time I had the good sense to
re-connect with him, he was gone…gone from our presence, but never from my
memory, and not without a powerful influence on my life.
https://www.legacy.com/us/obituaries/newszapde/name/william-gooner-obituary?id=9434473
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