As I said in earlier post, following my high school reunion I drove over to the beach. In high school it was somewhere we visited a bit too much. It was a great place to hide from the cops, while commencing in under age drinking.
So following the official event, we joined up with group who had skipped the formal event and gathered in our old stomping ground.
Well to start off, the road was a lot easier to find before, or so it seemed. I also didn't drive until after high school, so I probably never paid attention. We were all on cell phone wandering down dirt roads trying to find our way. We all finally got the the right place.
Since we had been away, I guess they did not want the nightly visitors, so they chained off parking lot. So the closest place to park was about a mile back.
Well even though I knew I was going to the beach following event, and I remembered my change of clothes, I somehow forgot my change of shoes. So all I had was 3" heels, the best hiking shoes they make.
Well after parking, by the time we get up to the parking lot, my feet are dying. Now the reason this place was so good for underage drinking was it is pain to get to. Other beaches in the area you could just drive up to. This one, Ross' Cove, was a major exception. Even from the parking lot, you had to hike up dirt path to shimmy down a cliff to the beach.
So after managing to get to the parking lot, then up the dirt path, we can't find the path to the ravine you shimmy down the cliff in. At this point my feet are dying, I am giving up. My friend Steve Schoening, who I drove with and have been hanging with all night, starts to feel so bad. He offers my a piggyback ride. I am like down the cliff???
I told him to go on ahead go grab somebody's shoes from the beach and come bring them back to me. He is such a sweetheart and does not wan to leave me there alone. He takes off his shoes and gives them to me. I refuse telling him, now he is in dress socks and his feet will hurt. He says you have been wearing heels since 5pm, when we left it's now 1 am. I will be fine I just have to get down the hill to the beach, so I accept.
Well the beach sucked too. I was freezing and people again were already smashed, and at this point I didn't feel like drinking and having to get up the hill, down the path, to the car and drive back over the hill. Sounded like a very bad idea.
So we are there like an hour and everyone started leaving so we did too. Steve tells me to keep his shoes, that his feet are all dirty and he would not want to put hem back on anyways and ruin them. So he walks up the cliff, down the dirt path, down the road to the car, in a pair of dress socks.
I was so grateful and still am. You know you have a friend when you have not seen them in years, exchanged a few email and talked on the phone a few times, but they will still give you their shoes and brutalize their feet, just to provide you with comfort.
Steve you are the man! A true trooper. I owe you, let me know what can be done to repay the favor.
I hope I can be that person for someone someday. That a simple gesture and willing sacrifice that shows so a level of loyality and compassion, I will be grateful to have been able to pay it forward.