Yes, I admit I am a full-fledged gadget junkie, eager to create whatever justification necessary to obtain the latest tool or piece of any personal electronic hardware. I absolutely love playing with any technological marvel that I think will make my life easier.
Yet until only recently, I had shied away from any foray into the deepest and darkest corners of cyberspace, not fully understanding the implications and unlimited potential of such sites. A recent event changed that.
I should begin with a little background information. In the mid 1980s, I was employed by Marathon Coach, long before the company moved to their highly visible location adjacent to Interstate 5 just north of Coburg. I was one of four original Marathon Coach employees, and one of my best memories of my time there involves a friendship that resulted from building a coach for TG Sheppard, then a very popular and successful country singer.
I first met Larry, TG’s bus driver, in 1985 when I was on a service trip to Florida. At that time, TG was a spokesman for Proctor and Gamble’s during the firm’s initial entry NASCAR sponsorship, with Tim Richmond at the wheel of “TG Sheppard’s Folgers Coffee Machine.” While in Florida, I met TG and Larry at Daytona International Speedway during a sales presentation. Larry and I immediately became friends, and that friendship grew as we completed the bus conversion for his boss.
After completing the bus conversion in 1986, TG invited me to attend a race of my choice with them. I chose Talladega, Alabama. The race was a dream-come-true for a race fan from Oregon, and the days following the race found me staying with Larry and his family in Hendersonville, just outside Nashville.
One morning I got up early, grabbed my camera and took a dozen or so pictures of his kids, aged about six and four. My intention had always been to make prints of those pictures and send them to Larry and Marilyn. Only things didn’t work out that way. About four years ago, I came across the slides and finally had prints made. Now, I wondered, what to do with them?
Larry and I had kept in touch, although the contact had been infrequent during the last few years. I knew he had moved to Indiana, and I remember him telling me that his phone number was unlisted. I also recalled him telling me the name of a company he was considering going to work for, so with no other information, I called the company. Yes, he did work for them, but they wouldn’t give me the contact information.
The lady I talked to did, however, agree to pass on a message asking him to contact me. Less than an hour later, Larry called and I once again obtained his phone numbers, address, and email address. The only problem, however, was that I had misplaced the pictures. At a later date, I lost the contact information (there seems to be a pattern developing here).
A couple of weeks ago, still without the pictures, I decided to try to contact Larry with less information than I had had previously. Still no listing for his name anywhere in Indiana, and he had quit his job so that was a dead end also.
The only new clue was that I had remembered the name of his four-year-old daughter, the child whose picture I had taken some 20 years ago. I also recalled my daughter telling me how many of her childhood and former school friends she had found and contacted through a website called myspace.com. It seems as though everyone under 30, and many older people as well, has a page on myspace. The Web site is so hugely popular that many employers have installed software to block access to it from their computers.
Anyone with an e-mail address and Internet access can sign up for a free page on the site, and choose to list whatever personal information they are comfortable with. A member can also search the site’s membership to find an old friend or make new ones.
So, armed with only a name and approximate age, I searched myspace for Larry’s daughter. There were about 30 potential matches, so I narrowed down the search area to the Midwest. Several possible listings came up, and luckily those had pictures posted on them. The picture on one listing looked remarkably similar to, although of an older girl, to the picture I remember taking.
Myspace allows members to contact each other anonymously and safely, so I sent this member a message, explaining who I was and that I was looking for someone, possibly her father. I asked her, on the off chance that I had contacted the right person, to have Larry contact me. Larry called me a little before six that evening, and we were both truly amazed at the circuitous journey that had allowed us regain contact.
I have now securely stored Larry’s phone numbers in my cell phone. I also have all of his contact information stored on my Rolodex at work. I have prepared a padded Priority Mail company shipping envelope to send the pictures. Now all I have do is find the damn pictures!
Published 2006
It Happened in Oregon... 