C. Steven James (aka “Butch”) has been a close friend of mine for over 60 years, and his loss reminds all of us of our own mortality, and the preciousness of time with really good friends.
I moved into Sheridan, his neighborhood, when both of us were in the 5th grade. I first met him at the Lake Washington beach at the bottom of the hill. It was mid summer, and while I couldn’t swim, I went to the beach to wade in the water. Butch was on the dock, and shortly after a brief introduction, he said, “C’mon, let’s dive off the diving board”. I said, you’re nuts, you can’t do that. He assured me that he could, whereupon I bet him a million dollars that he couldn’t. He promptly did so! I went home and told my mother I needed to learn how to swim and dive – quickly. I still owe him the million. Later, we would both swim across the lake, about 3 miles at that point.
There was a group of us, living mostly within a few blocks of Butch, who grew up together, and stayed very close throughout Jr. High and High School, and beyond. Bill Oves, Terry Oswald, and later in High school, Turney (Howard) Oswald, Judy Fawcett, and others. We shared these formative, important, and sometimes difficult years, and the bonds continue to this day. Very important bonds.
With a little thought, I could produce another 10 to 15 vignettes like the diving board above, that make me smile. Perhaps in time I will send them on. But the bottom line is that for 60 years Butch was one of a very few who would come to mind if some one asked me, "do you have any really good friends?". He will be very, very, sorely missed.
Pete Lothes
Quechee, Vermont