I meet Mead in the spring of 1961, The 6^th grade was nearly over and he was new in Sunnyside. During the lunch break 20 kids would try to catch fly balls hit by a couple of batters, If you caught the ball then you became the hitter. He had a glove & I didn’t, he caught one and flipped me his glove on the way to hit, we became fast friends. Mead, Mike (Matthews) & Me played together all that summer, basketball & camping in the back yards. At twelve years old he read everything put in front of him, all of the James Bond books for fun. He started his own local chapter of the Hayley Mills fan club, I think there were 3 members. Oh ya, and his Dad had Playboy magazines in a desk in the basement

We both turned out for the 7^th Grade baseball team, though neither of us was very good. The only fist fight I was ever in was with Mead between 1^st & 2^nd base. We threw a few wild haymakers and wrestled to the ground, we weren’t good fighters either. It was my mothers turn to pick us up and he left practice early , called her and said I had a ride. It was a half hour before I realized she wasn‘t coming. I don’t remember why we fought, and I think it took a few months to put it behind us.

Mead was the first to turn 16 and got his license right away. The size of our world was suddenly much larger. The 3 of us would drive to Grandview, play pool , hang out or just cruse. In the summer of 65 you couldn’t go more than 30 minuets with out hearing ‘satisfaction’ by the Rolling Stones . It was great fun, even if it was his mothers Studebaker Lark. Mead moved to Chelan before the start of our Junior year, we remained in touch.

He had an old green dodge with a 3 speed overdrive transmission and we went for a ride to Granger. There had been a thunder storm, the kind that rains an inch in an hour then the sun comes out and everything is dry but the puddles. Granger was a little town and most of the streets were a gravel or dirt mix and the puddles were 3” deep and as big a small lakes. We sat in the shade under a tree, Mead at the wheel & when a lady eased her car slowly into the middle of the puddle he punched it. We hit the puddle at 30 mph and I still see her face as a 10 foot wall of dirty water swamped her clean vehicle. We quickly left Granger.

The three of us decided to try for a job at the Alcoa Aluminum plant in Wenatchee. We soon found out they had a weight requirement, I didn’t weigh enough & Mead was just plain skinny. No problem, he strung a rope threw some dumbbell weights and tied it around his waist under a loose jacket. We didn’t get the job. I lived with him in the middle of an orchard in the fall of 68. I was going to YVC and he worked at the orchard & got the house for free. He had an old VW bug and completely rebuilt the engine, having no prior experience. He drove off to test it out, got a few miles and the engine seized up. He must have got it fixed because I remember riding in that car. I think he could just read about something and do it. He had a temper sometimes. I saw him jam his hand working on an old Plymouths muffler, he began raving & pulled an ax out of the trunk and attacked the quarter panel. My uncontrollable laughter probably didn’t help.

I last saw Mead in October of 1969. I was headed for the Marine Corp and I think he was on his way to Seattle or California. I didn’t need my 58 Chevy anymore and he needed a car. I signed the title over to him and we said goodbye, fully expecting to meet again. We never did. I read once that you will never have any better friends than the ones when you were young.

George Partch