PHILIP WEYLAND - ANGEL ON ASSIGNMENT

When I was in 4th grade, attending Kendall School, my best friend was Philip Weyland. He lived on Eagle Road, right behind Kendall, and was a class leader and class president. I felt lucky he was my pal, as everyone looked up to him, and he seemed to know everything about everything, from bugs, to frogs, to tying knots, to scouting, to girls.

Phil arranged my first date, a square dance, as part of a double - him and Mary Lou Williams, me with Pamela Martin. Pamela had long curly hair, kept in a huge ponytail that shook and bounced as we spun our partners. I fell in love as we shared a Coke. And all I could wonder, was how great Phil was for finding her for me.
After school one day I went over to Phil's house, and I thought we would surely play some board games, "Career" was a favorite, or explore a nearby swamp for frogs and snakes. But that day was different. I think it might have started raining, and we couldn't go out(though my memory is of a glorious day of sunlight). Phil said, "Let's read."

I thought maybe he had some Superman comics, but instead, he handed me a book. The Hardy Boys - The House on the Cliff. He was reading another Hardy Boy book, I don't remember which, and he asked me if I read the Hardy Boys. Read them? Who were they? He told me of their adventures as detectives and I was hooked.

We read for an hour, and when it was time to go home, I wanted that book, and he lent it to me. I believe I was up most of that night under my bed cover with a flashlight, reading the greatest adventure story ever written. Two boys, fighting crime, riding motorcycles, heroically battling for good and justice. And I was with them.

I did read every Hardy Boy, and own them, and recently bought most of the older ones again on ebay. But that day, when Phil handed me a book, he opened a door in my life that would never be closed, a door that has taken me around the world, into homes on every continent, and to other planets and beyond, to adventures and excitement I came to know through literature.

If it hadn't been for Phil handing me a book, I would never have discovered David Copperfield, which I read in 5th grade, along with so much more, and the list is a neverending one, with each adventure, from the classic to the sleazy, from cheap pulp to great words, being a portal away from this world and into another.

And even more, the book he handed me, realized within me a quest for excitement, for natural conquests, and I would probably never have joined Cub Scouts, and later, Boy Scouts, and I would have missed all the great adventures that fortunately took place in my life, without Phil's initial primature of what was good.
He was an athlete. He was a leader. He was intelligent. He was literary.

Phil sent me my first post card, from a vacation in Maine.
Phil moved to Missouri at the end of 4th grade, and we kept in touch through letters until high school was finished, but I lost track of him somewhere in Texas.
I have always wanted to tell him how much I owe him, I have always wanted to give him a lifetime of thanks. For Lord of the Rings, for Foundation, for Atlas Shrugged, for so many, many tales and novels, so many adventures, and also for my imagination, for my writing, for so many doors that open because of all that went before.

Who knew where he is or what he does.

Until.

Recently, I typed his name on the net, which I do about once or twice a year to see if I could find him, and lo and behold, up came this picture that you see above, of Phil with actor and football great, Jim Brown. He works in the same industry as I, motion pictures, has worked with a hero -William Shatner, and Phil has gone about on his own step in life, and he and his wife live only 15 miles away!

But.

What do I do? Call or not? What if he thought I was crazy.

Should some friends remain in the past?

I don't have the answer yet. I want to call. I just need to get up the courage.

Though I have died on an operating table, visited heaven, drove off a mountain cliff on a four-wheeler, been bitten by a rattler...

I am apprehesive.

Lord, give me strength. And will.
To share some of the amazing life experiences I have been blessed with, with the man who started me on my road to adventure.

Surely the Lord has had his hand in a desire of my heart, for how would Phil all of a sudden appear, after forty-five years, and be so close, and work in the same industry.

Okay, Lord, it is you, so all must be good, and I will call this week! Or next.

Peace.