Today is the birthday of my oldest and deepest friend, my Kansas prairie brother, my Amtrac brother, my Penn Station brother, my Lower East Side brother, my Oaxaca brother, my Belle Isle with the sunset reflecting in the Detroit River brother. My stand by and support your friend no matter what brother.
We share our lusts, our angers, our poems, our stories, our dreams both for ourselves and for our families, the comforts that we have each earned along the way.
He is one of three namesakes for my son, and the one who would have appointed himself godfather had the need ever arrived.
He is the brickwork in the foundation of a beautiful and unique family. His devotion to all of us has never been in question, not once, not ever.
Many years ago, he and I were traveling from Peabody to visit friends in Lawrence. We chased the Atchinson Topeka & Santa Fe along the tracks that run beside Highway 50, racing ahead to get out at the next crossing and take pictures of ourselves with the train flying past. It was a during a long cold spell like this one. As the sun hung low, we stopped along the Cottonwood River and took photographs of our long shadows playing out across the bright blue ice, arms outstretched, heads lifted high, bodies locked forever in a frozen river, a moment shared in time and light and shadow.
Happy Birthday, Mr. Michael Norman Ketchum, holy man, welder of the long steel rail, keeper of the family flame, gentle man and dedicated comrade, I toast you tonight with silver tequila and golden moonlight, served with blue ice and cottonwood cotton kicked up by the AT&SF as it thunders past, curling along the highway, on it’s way to meet us at the next crossing.
Thank you, Jane. I believe you were the one person Michael wanted me to meet when I came to visit but I guess the timing never worked out.
What a great tribute to my friend too.
Here’s to lots more birthdays.