In the wee hours of the morning, the storm escalated to include lightning and thunder claps seemingly right outside my window. It woke me up, and as I lay there in the darkness for some inexplicable reason, my mind took me back to high school and a girl I loved named Gail. Since I couldn’t get back to sleep anyway, I got up and consulted Google to try and learn more about how Gail’s life how turned out. Her internet footprint wasn’t very large, but the first result listed was this one:
Lavonne Gail (Weed) Midtgard, 64, passed away at Renown Regional Medical Center on September 20, 2021 after a three week battle with covid pneumonia. She was referred to as Gail to most everyone that knew her.
Lavonne was born May 16, 1957 in Santa Ana, California to James Doyle Weed and Ines Lou (Davis) Weed. She attended Westminster high school.
She moved to Sparks, Nevada in 1993 where she eventually found and married Bill the love of her life.
Lavonne was employed both as an administrator and manager at Lithia Motors until her retirement in 2016. She enjoyed sewing, crafting, and quilt making. She would always brighten up a room with her big smile and kind mannerism. Always ready to help whenever someone needed something done. Her and her husband Bill loved to travel, both by car, motorhome and cruise ship.
I checked my archives but couldn’t find any photos of Gail from those long-ago days we shared. I know I have (or had) some in a box somewhere stateside. This one from the obituary is how I remember her:
She looked a little different at the end of her life:
I mentioned Gail a couple of times on the blog, including this post about my arrest back in 1973 in Huntington Beach, California. Gail was present for that event. Gail was my second love in high school; her predecessor moved away before my senior year. Gail gifted me her virginity, and we shared some passionate times together. Naturally, I fucked things up with Gail by not making a clean break with the one who moved away. I would occasionally sneak down to San Diego to visit Karen, and for some reason, when Gail found out, she wasn’t cool with it. I guess that scenario sounds familiar, but hey, bad habits have to start somewhere. I really did hate losing Gail and realized once she was gone that I had fucked up. Try as I might, I could not win her back. Which led me to getting a community college classmate pregnant who eventually became my first wife. And the rest is history.
Yeah, I just opened up the memory box I do have here with me and found the postcard and some letters Gail had sent me while on vacation with her parents. One consistent theme in each was an entreaty for me to “be good.” One ended with this P.S.: “I’m being good, so would you please?! Reading Gail’s words of love was a sad reminder of how unworthy I’ve always been when someone has trusted me with her heart.
I also found a poem I wrote in those long ago years entitled “New Year’s Eve.” I can’t swear now that it was written with Gail in mind, but I suspect it was. Gail may have been my “second” love, but she was my first broken heart. I paid a hefty price for being unfaithful. Maybe I’m still paying today.
You never even took the time To see what you were using And you were shocked when you found out It was you who did the losing You never believed in the difference Between what she felt and your dreams Her feelings never mattered You were busy with other things And you really can't help looking back Was it all just another game? You pretend it doesn't matter But you've never felt quite the same Because this time there was something more But you didn't realize it And when you finally understood You had already lost it And when it is finally all over Will you look at your life and be sad? Will you remember the people and places And the love you could have had? --J.M. McCrarey
I’m sorry that I missed my chance with you, Gail, but I’m happy that it appears you lived a full and happy life. You may be gone, but you are not forgotten.
My closing song will be from another Gail memory. I don’t know why this one has stuck in my head for going on fifty years now, but it’s there. We were driving on a country road in my 1963 Ford pickup truck (technically my dad’s, but he was off at sea). I’m driving, my brother Greg is in the passenger seat, and Gail is riding in the middle. My truck has an 8-track tape player, and we’ve got Stealers Wheel blaring away. Gail was singing along, and when she got to the chorus line of: “clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right,” she’d gesture at me and my brother, seeing as how she was stuck in the middle. Good times!
Alas, I will always associate that song with the horrific ear-removal scene from “Reservoir Dogs.” That was a brutal movie. At least you have better memories to associate with the song!
Gail sounds like a sweetie. Too bad you didn’t stick with her, but you’ve long been a man who follows his, uh, baser appetites. As Living Color sang, “Only you can set you free.”
RIP, Gail. Flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.
I got news for ya McCrarey, we all look different at the end of our lives.
It was a nice tribute to a former lover in your younger days.
I had to laugh at your mention of 8-track tapes. I think I still have a few up in the attic. Heavy Metal of course. I actually preferred 8-track tapes to cassette tapes because you didn’t have to flip them over to hear all the songs. That’s important when you are in the back seat Taking Care of Business.(also a good song by BTO).
Let me leave you with these words from “Desert Moon” by Dennis Deyoung. My little tribute to you and Gail:
“Those summer nights, when we were young
We bragged of things we’d never done
We were dreamers, only dreamers
Moments pass, and time moves on
But dreams remain for just as long as there’s dreamers
All the dreamers”
Addendum:
Peace Out!
Thanks, Soju. I reminded of the great Joe Walsh refrain: Everybody’s so different, I haven’t changed.
I didn’t like how 8-tracks would click over right in the middle of the song, causing a brief but irritating pause. Plus, with cassettes, I could make my own mix tapes from my extensive album collection. Nothing is more romantic than giving your girl a cassette with all your favorite love songs.
Thanks for reminding me of the song. Indeed, a dreamer lives forever!
“you’ve long been a man who follows his, uh, baser appetites.”
And this is where all those bad habits began. My first love, Karen, moved two hours south to San Diego, but I never technically broke up with her. I’d drive down to visit once a month or so. And then I met Gail; she was just a natural fit, like dating your best friend. I should have cut the strings to Karen and gone on with my new life, but no, I wasn’t that smart. After one visit with Karen, she wanted to ride back to Orange County with me. When we got to my apartment, I was surprised to see my roommate was having a party. When Karen and I walked through the door, we were face-to-face with Gail, who was a guest at the party. Talk about awkward. At that moment, I realized that Gail was who I wanted, and I did break up with Karen for good the next day. It was too late, though, to fix things with Gail.
My love life has been a Groundhog Day of fuck ups ever since.