Lunch With Paul



Paul Hammond, Mickey Fisher, and Glen Kilgour

Note:  This is a revision of something many have read.  It will be an annual column on August 17 in memory of Paul Hammond.


Most of you didn't know Paul Hammond. 

You missed out.

He was my college roommate, and easily the most intelligent person I've ever met.  His brother Ted dubbed him "The Oracle," and the nickname fit.  Paul could give you an intelligent conversation regarding any topic you wanted to discuss, even it it was the behavior of the Zoroastrian religion in the Appalachian region during the Christmas season.  Trust me, Paul could have done it, and at the same time, was never condescending.  He was never that.  He also could talk about any sport from football to lacrosse, and I think he followed high school sports in every state - - - and all of this was pre-Internet.

We became friends due to a mutual love of Strat-O-Matic Baseball, and once we roomed together - - - when our finances would allow - - - we'd hit Little Caesar's on Sunday.  That was our spot.  We each had our particular brand of pizzas, and we got them every time.  I'd polish off a 2-liter of Mountain Dew, while Paul would do the same to a Dr. Pepper.

Sadly, we graduated, going our separate ways.  I returned home, Paul moving to Colorado.  He would visit his mother every Christmas, and would always find time for a Strat-O-Matic tournament - - - in which he would wax me - - - and of course, a trip to Little Caesar's.  Per the usual, we ordered the same pizzas and I'd have the 2-liters cold.

Over the years, I added one more topping, and Paul changed his pizza.  Finally, Paul's stomach wouldn't let him eat pizza anymore.  With the passing of time, we quit getting together for baseball, but met with Glen Kilgour, a friend from the dorm, and fellow member of our championship College Bowl team, Sammie's Scholars.  (Paul would have wanted that mentioned.  We earned that!)

One year, while we were still meeting for baseball, Paul didn't want to play.  He just wanted to talk, and that's all we did, long into the night.  You name it, we discussed it:  baseball, politics, life in general, our families and how they were doing, what we wanted out of the future, guys from the dorm, Room 226, and of course, God.  Of course, we talked from about 7 p.m. until 3 in the morning, so there were a lot of other topics.  With all the fun I had with Paul, that was the best time I ever had. 

Two years ago today, my aunt was visiting.  She wanted to buy lunch, so she sent me to Little Caesar's.  I hadn't been in one for about five years.  On the way home, my cell phone rang.  It was Ted, Paul's brother.  Paul had passed away, a half hour beforehand.  I knew then and there Paul had wanted everyone to know he was okay, so God sent me to Little Caesar's.  There was no other explanation for my aunt picking that particular week.

So today and every other August 17, I'm having lunch at Little Caesar's and cracking open a 2-liter.  It's not the best thing for the diet I'm on, but that's okay.  I'm going to order my combination, and hoist my 2-liter to Paul, whom I think of daily.  Even before he left us, I always thought of him when I drove by that restaurant, and I always will.  But today, I'm just going to enjoy my memories of a great friend.