By Jay Walker
Many of us have had roommates in the past at school or as a cost-sharing arrangement. Some were agreeable, or not. Roommates can be funny. Or they can be hell on earth. Mainly, they can be memorable – in short, a good read.
We will be including resident roommate stories in future editions of “Our Neighborhoods.”
So here is my story.
My roommates were Earnie, my former college roommate, and Don, my best friend in high school. We came together in an apartment on West 72nd street in New York City and a short walk from Central Park (important later.) We were “getting started” as they say, although Don was working at a McGraw Hill publication.
We got along easily. Well, there was politics. Earnie and I did not agree when the 1960 election came around. At one point, during dinner, Don suggested that I should put down the carving knife during a “discussion” with Earnie.
I do not remember who brought up touch football in the park. But in less than a week we were teammates in what became an endless season – really. Fall became winter and winter turned to spring, and we never stopped until Memorial Day.
The Saturday after Labor Day to the Saturday before Memorial Day became The Season.
Maybe the worst part was that none of us stopped talking about the games – just ask any bored date. One time in September, Earnie remarked to a player while in the huddle, “I understand you got married during the off-season. Best wishes.”
As roommates we had a number of reasons that kept us together. The first was humor. We laughed off differences. The next was books like the long discussion of [Joseph] Heller’s Catch-22, plus the theater and movies and yes, television (monochrome).
But most of all there was music – jazz and classical.
Reprinted with permission of “Our Neighborhood,” Summer 2025 edition.
