feeds
A good friend of mine died yesterday. Not the typical friend one would imagine a 22-year-old having, but a good, solid, dependable, trustworthy, honest, wise, and compassionate friend. In fact, the type of friend everyone dreams of having.
James Duke might have even hit the hearts of many of you from the Capital District who read our blog. During countless discussions before my move to Albany, Mr. Duke told me of the fun he would have as a student at RPI, and how he met his wife, Bobbie, and would take her out with him, causing mischief by the Port of Albany.
Later on in life, he caused mischief at Cedar Crest Village, a retirement community in New Jersey, where I met, and came to love, Mr. Duke. Unlike some of the other male residents at Cedar Crest, Duke would not slap the butts of the female waitresses that served them JELL-O at the dining room. Instead, he used a more precise technique to get their attention: he asked questions about their lives.
It wasn’t just me who intrigued Mr. Duke—although I like to think I am among the select few who were his “favorites.”
He wanted to know all about me. What do you want to be in the future? Where are you going to college? When are you going to have a boyfriend? (He was fearless when it came to asking questions about my personal life.)
Most importantly, he wanted to know about my family. So, instead of telling my friend about my father’s thick Romanian accent, and my mother’s friendly smile, I decided to show him. Mr. Duke talked to my mother on the phone. He attended my college graduation party, in which he and his wife read a speech declaring how proud of me they were.
In the end, Mr. Duke did much more than meet my family. He became my family.
He and Bobbie communicated with me several times a month via e-mail after I left the Garden State. We kept in touch, though not as much as I should have (he always used to write to me after a while saying, “long time, no smoke signals.”) And to date, nothing about my life has changed that he hadn’t known about.
The last time I saw Mr. Duke was particularly special. I brought my boyfriend, Jon, home to meet him.
I know the custom of boyfriend meeting family is usually one reserved for the parents, but I sought a certain kind of approval from Mr. Duke. While my parents wise, and their judgment important, Mr. Duke knew a good person when he saw one. Since our first date, never has a moment with Jon made me more nervous than when we walked up to the Duke’s door, a cake I baked in hand, and introduced my “grandparents” to him. We were joined by another couple I grew incredibly fond of during my time at Cedar Crest: Al and Edie-“The Sweethearts.”
Overall, the night went on fabulously flawless, though I do not know if I will ever forget my shock when Mr. Duke discovered Jon placing his hand on my knee underneath the tablecloth.
“You get your hand off of her right now!” he said. Jon didn’t touch me the rest of the night.
Mr. Duke did seem to approve of Jon, and so I am with him still today.
Aside from being funny, Mr. Duke was also modest. After Donald Trump’s reality show, The Apprentice, taped an episode at Cedar Crest Village and Mr. Duke was caught on film, I couldn’t help but e-mail him inquiring as to how that came about. Reality television was growing quite popular and Mr. Duke was now going to be famous! A few days later, I got a response, “How did I look?” he asked.
It’s not everyday that someone gets to publicize over 600 words to an audience they know will listen. Fortunately for me, I am able to with this blog. And so I am thankful that you have allowed me this space to tell you about one of my dear friends, my unofficial grandpa, and mentor and taken the time to read it. While it is too late for any of you who did not know him to meet Jim Duke, I truly wish, at some point in your lives, you come across someone who is exactly like him, and he or she fills your life with all of the amazing things he has filled mine with in the time that I had known him.
