Ross Bloom has been dead for a few years now, and I hadn't heard from him since I was a freshman in high school. But I'd like to share a couple of things with you.
Why am I writing this now? I suppose that I was recently conversing with a very good friend who was questioning his own worth. When Ross poped into my brain, I started to think about his worth as well.
Between 6th and 8th grade, we shared little. Most of our association came on the playground. But in 8th grade, we finally were allowed to play interscholastic sports. And we did fairly well in both soccer and touch football.
But then came our freshman year Ridge High School in Bernards Township, NJ. And we were on what was possibly the worst freshman football team in New Jersey history. It wasn't that we didn't have enough talent, we just didn't have enough warm bodies. We started the year with 15 guys and it slowly whittled down to 9 as the season wore on. We were playing against squads with around 30 guys so by the time the first quarter was over, we were exhausted. We played every single down of every game, while the other team had separate offense and defense squads. We never scored and it was rare that we had a first down.
Anyhow, towards the end of the season, the coach called an extra Saturday morning practice. Everyone was completely fed up and we started hitting one another with a ferocity we rarely displayed in practice or on the field. I suppose I was the worst. I just kept pounding and pound and Ross, my best friend on the team, kept pounding back just as hard. It was inevitable one of us would get hurt first. It was Ross.
I smashed into him and he went down. He told the coach he thought he broke his arm. I started screaming at him that he was a girl and a pussy and so forth. His injury, combined with one of the other players deciding to quit after his father died, left us with 7 players. Our season was finished and we spent the rest of the time being fodder for the varsity.
It turned out Ross had hurt his shoulder, not his arm. And he wound up in a sling. We both despised our science teacher, Mr. Jorgensen, but Ross got really upset when Mr. J was making demands about him using his bad arm for writing and so forth. From what I understand, he told him off pretty badly, probably stating what the rest of us thought of him. Unknown to me, it was "suggested" that Ross find another school. In the meantime, I moved to a different school district during the Christmas recess. And we never saw one another again.
It was a few years ago that a classmate, who was in my home room at the second school district sent me a message on Facebook asking if I knew Ross. It turned out He married her. And I was able to find out a lot about him.
He remained living in Bernards Township, and he became a big part of that community as a member of the Basking Ridge Volunteer Fire Department. He was a good husband and he raised three great kids. And was always willing to help others.
Every year, there is caroling at the small town square in Basking Ridge. I went with His widow and two of his kids to listen to it. I had done this only once before, exactly 50 years before. And it was nice to be a part of that community's Christmas celebration. Ross was always good with tools. And he built a star to hang on the top of the town Christmas tree. I took some photos of it during the caroling and I was not pleased. The photos were blurred because the nightime light wasn't enough to use a fast shutter speed. So I went back and took a picture from a tripod. I put some text into it and Ross' widow uses it every year on her facebook.
So what's the point of this ancient tale. Perhaps in dealing with the adversity of that horrible football season, both of us learned to be stronger. And both of us somehow chose to be of service to others. And in looking at Ross life, I understood that even the most ordinary of us have the capacity to make a difference to others. A positive difference. Ross' star still shines in Basking Ridge, but his light still shines in the heart of many.
And so, as we celebrate the birth of a savior this season, we can also celebrate the lives of people who made this world a better place for having been a brief part of it.
May God bless you and fill you with peace and purpose during the holidays.
