Here's hoping a long friendship will last a lot longer

All that hair.

I remember it was June 1981, 36 years ago and the end of one of life's journeys for me. A group of us who had worked on our college newspaper together were celebrating the end of it all at the Kings Dominion amusement park north of Richmond, Va.

Five people in a log on a flume ride. Me in the back, two women I had dated, a fraternity brother of mine with whom I never really got along.

And Tara in the front.

Fun fun fun in '81...

I don't remember when Tara Hagenbrock Johnson first appeared in the newspaper offices. I'm pretty sure I was already editor in chief. I spent three years -- six semesters -- working on the paper, and the last year and a half I was running things.

George Mason University was growing fast, and Broadside took a couple of giant steps forward. During my three semesters as editor, we were honored as the best college newspaper in Virginia. Maybe even more significant, in my final semester, we purchased and used the first computer system the paper had.

All those years ago.

My three semesters as editor were coincidentally the first 18 months of my separation from my first wife. A tough time, and I spent a great deal of it dating the most important woman that I didn't marry. She's the one sitting in front of me in the log, and she still means a lot to me.


This isn't her story, though.

This is Tara's. There wasn't a time she wasn't a positive influence and she was nearly always a joy to be around. But from June 1981 until reconnecting on Facebook more than 25 years later, I didn't have any contact with her.

We all got old.

That's the way it works, of course. Except for a couple of weird movies, each day that passes takes a little more out of us. Some die young. Two of the section editors who worked for me died before they were 30. One drowned in the Pacific Ocean and the other took his own life.

The rest of us had varying degrees of success, some in journalism and some outside. We wound up scattering across the country. The other four people in the log live in Virginia, California, Colorado and North Carolina.

Joe & Tara Johnson, left

I live in Georgia.

We had a reunion in 2010 in Virginia. I was in town for a fraternity event, the 30th anniversary of the chartering of our chapter at GMU.

The luncheon was wonderful, but it was a perfect example of how much we lose when our lives and careers take us far afield from where we were young.

Social media helps, but posting on Facebook or even talking on Skype isn't the same as sitting with someone and talking face to face.

The only other time I lost contact with so many people I considered friends was when the Globe-Democrat folded in 1986 and I left St. Louis after 2 1/2 years. I had a half dozen friends there and we played poker almost every Sunday night for two years.

I don't think I've played poker outside a casino since.

But my Broadside friends are all people I have known for nearly 40 years and all of them are quality individuals. What's the saying? Oh yeah.

They're good people.

And Tara is one of the best. The seven years since I last saw her haven't been particularly kind to her. She has been battling numerous health issues including cancer, and she missed the most recent reunion at Helen Stevens' home in Annapolis.

I was disappointed. She was one of the people I really wanted to see. She's one of the few people in the world who always makes me smile.

I hope she lives a very long time.

The world would be a less pleasant place without her in it.