Chad: The origin of the Original Friends is the day the first was born: September 11, 1969. It was Chad G*** and it happened in Bourne, Massachusetts, a forgotten New England town.
It is difficult for I, Mumford Bloomfargen, to write this chapter, for I feel quite close to Chad in many ways. I am full of admiration and affection for him; yet I cannot let my fondness blind me to his faults. He is a strange crafty creature, who caused more ill-will and grief than any other Friend. His tyranny, which began long before the Original Friends ever met [See Exhibits #1-3], was the cause of the only recorded physical attack of one Friend on another, of a month-long mutiny and the near dissolution of the Friends, and of unspeakable exasperation in everyone who knew him. Yet, in a way that will seem ironic only to those unfamiliar with human nature, it was also the source of much of their glory. No one denies his importance to the Original Friends. He brought them together, spurred them on, and kept them close over many years and thousands of miles.
Greg: It is tempting to argue that Greg B*** is the greatest of the Original Friends. He began life in the most oppressed and hopeless of circumstances, and from them he ascended to unprecedented heights. It is true that he was often cruel and abrasive, but these qualities sprung from the same fount that made him the most feared and admired man in South Milwaukee. A thousand times, when it seemed certain that the sun’s warm rays would never again fall on the faces of the Original Friends, Greg rescued them all. Would Hector or Hercules have outdone Greg’s valour in the battle of the Sewer Rat, the Deerdog, or the Log of Death? Could Odysseus or Alexander top Greg’s quick witted dexterity in The Incredible Paint Can Con, the Bolt of Salvation, or the Miraculous Exploding Marble? Every day Greg turned fear into courage, shame into pride, and a misfit band of stragglers into tall, proud adventurers. If Chad provided the vision, Greg provided the magic. His exploits will live as long as greatness and genius are worshipped.
Sam: It is not easy for any historian to discuss the character of Sam M*** without irking some of his closest colleagues and friends. There are two camps arrayed about the figure of this Friend. Some bear him a great grudge, never having forgiven him for his hesitation the first night he met Chad, when he waffled in Ace Hardware. This anti-Sam party adduces other facts to vilify Sam’s integrity and sincerity. For instance, his constant sleepiness is seen as a sure sign of disloyalty. But these critics do not see below the surface. The pro-Sam party, of which I have been a member since 1991, has gathered mountains of data to defend their favorite Friend. Sam M***, they argue, has more than proven his valor and commitment to the Original Friends. He has never, of course excepting the famous Head-Squeeze (which is seen by most as a justifiable reaction to Chad’s growing tyranny), done any bodily harm to another Friend. His sleepiness can be explained as a physiological defect, compounded by a rigorous regime of wrestling and weightlifting. At Holy Hill, Blood Lake, and the Factory, he proved his mettle in many courageous exploits. Thus, it seems we must defer to Chad’s assessment. On Christmas eve of 1994, I heard him exclaim: “Sam, I love and admire you for many reasons, but for one reason most of all. No matter what the weather, no matter what the hour, no matter how many exams you had the next day, and no matter what threats your mother had posted to your door, all it ever took to entice you from the warmth of your room, into the cold and dangerous night, was one single pebble, bounced off your bedroom window.”
“I’m a one-pebble Friend,” Sam replied with a smile.
Lance: “Lance is more an enigma,” Sam remarks, “than a cog in the scheme.” This is true both of Lance in general, and of his qualities as an Original Friend. In many ways he shared the same attributes as the other Friends: a persistent love of adventure, a plucky rebelliousness, a fierce loyalty to his fellows; but in several ways, Lance stood apart. He was rich, they were poor; he had deep roots in the folkways and mores of South Milwaukee’s upper classes, they had none; he listened to Def Leppard, they scoffed at this group. That Lance is one of the most important Original Friends, though, no one will dispute. He brought charisma, strength, humor, recklessness, sobriety, intensity, loyalty and some much needed cash to the adventures, a fact to which the Original Friends, history, and myself are greatly indebted.
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