Saying goodbye to a friend

I recently returned to Palouse to say goodbye to my final classmate.

Bob Olson and I were born in 1930, at the beginning of the Great Depression.

We entered the first grade together in 1936, midway through some very hard times.

In fact, 15 of our graduation class of 24 in 1948 entered the first grade together.

Bob had requested that there not be a funeral service, so his younger brother Arvid chose a graveside event for those who would come.

So Bob had been a friend for 87 years. That’s a long friendship.

We were casual friends for many of those earlier years, but in recent years the friendship grew stronger.

Over the years when I returned home, Bob would always come in from the farm to talk and have lunch with me.

He inherited his parent’s farm when they passed away and worked the farm until just a few years ago.

Bob married late and didn’t have kids of his own, but he treated his step kids with love and dignity.

During his later years, Bob took an interest in the city and was a volunteer for many of the tasks that needed to be done in town.

One of the times I visited Palouse, my wife and I went out to his farm home. We found him busy doing a lot of well-organized projects. He kept busy.

He was known in farming circles as a man who practiced good farming rules.

Then a couple of years ago Bob decided to go into an assisted living home in Pullman.

He still helped in Palouse, particularly with matters related to the museum there.

Still, whenever he learned I was going to come to town he made an effort to drive over and have lunch with me.

So our friendship flourished until the end.

Bob was a lowkey kind of friend. I grew to respect his slow talk and simple language, no doubt from his Norwegian heritage.

So as far as I now know, I am the last of the Mohicans, so to speak.

I have tried to keep track of classmates, but the whereabouts of some have escaped me over the years.

Palouse is the kind of place where friendships endure.

My granddaughter Ashley Landeros, of Coulee Dam, drove me down for the graveside meeting.