What Friends Do

I SENT HUMBLEDOLLAR'S editor an email saying I was taking some time off from writing for the site. I really didn’t think I was going to write again. It wasn’t because I didn’t enjoy it. Rather, I thought I didn’t have anything to say that I hadn’t already said. But when I read Jonathan’s June 15 article, I was inspired to write about friendship.

Although I’ve never met Jonathan in person, he feels like a dear friend who I’ve known for many years. It’s because his writings aren’t just about money. They’re also about his life. He’s revealed so much about himself that you feel like you're a close friend.

We know he’s a Cambridge graduate who moved from England to New York, and now lives in Philadelphia with Elaine. They recently remodeled their house. They don’t own a car like most families do. He has a daughter, son and two grandsons. He used to be a long distance runner, but because of an injury he now rides a bike. He’s also not afraid to talk about the difficulties in his life: he was bullied in school, experienced two divorces and now is in a fight with cancer.

That personal touch is why I look forward to reading his Saturday articles. It isn’t easy finding a friend you can trust, which is what you feel when you read Jonathan’s writings.

When I was 19 years old, a bunch of us guys got together to play a pickup football game. We decided to play tackle instead of touch football. I wasn’t thrilled about it because I was the smallest guy on the field. I was short and skinny, just like I am today, at age 73.

We kicked off to the opposing team. My friend Mike caught the ball and avoided all the defenders except for me. I was the last guy to beat for a touchdown, and he could have done so easily, because I was too far away to catch him. But he decided to turn and run in my direction. At first, I didn’t know what he was doing—until I realized he wanted to run me over.

Mike was a strong kid. He was a lot taller than me and outweighed me by about 50 pounds. We collided, and his knee hit my chin as we both fell to the ground. As I slowly got up, I could see Mike looking down at me and smiling. I knew then that Mike wasn’t really a friend. A friend wouldn’t intentionally attempt to punish or hurt another friend.

I used to run track when I was in high school. One time, I was warming up for my race, while jogging past the pole vault area. Ron, Steve and Jerry were also competing for my school. Those guys always hung out together. While Jerry was attempting to vault over the bar, I could hear Ron and Steve chanting “miss it, miss it.” I couldn’t understand why they would not only root against their teammate, but also their friend.

Sometimes, it’s hard to figure out who’s a true friend. But as you get older, it’s important that you know, because it’s tough making it on your own, especially in retirement. You need family and friends who you can count on when you need help.

When I was taking care of my mother, I got her a medical alert system. It was a transmitter device that she wore around her neck that connected her to an emergency call center. If my mother was alone and needed help, the dispatcher would call an ambulance, the fire department or the police if it was necessary.

My mother rarely needed help, but one time she did. The dispatcher called Ann, who was a neighbor and close friend of my mother. They’d known each other a long time. Ann would often visit my mother and they’d have a glass of wine together. Ann agreed to be one of the individuals on the call list.

But Ann refused to come. She later told my mother she was in her pajamas and didn’t want to change clothes. We removed Ann from the list because she wasn’t someone who’d go out of her way to help a friend.

I’ve written a few times about losing my close friend Jeremy. It’s been difficult to get over his death. I thought at first it was because I missed our phone calls and lunches. But I now realize it’s more than that.

At my age, I know I’m eventually going to need some help. I always knew that Jeremy would be there for me, just as I’d be there for him. Now that he’s gone, I feel more vulnerable. I know I have my wife and other folks I can count on, but people like Jeremy are hard to find. No amount of money can replace the security that a friend like that can provide.

I wrote an article about paying our neighbor’s son $50 a week to water our plants, get our mail and keep an eye on the house while we were vacationing in the U.K. Since we were going to be gone for five weeks, I figured paying Michael was the right thing to do.

After we came back from our trip, Michael’s mother told me she didn’t want us to pay him. She said, “We want to teach him that he should help his neighbors and friends without expecting to be paid for it. That's what friends do.”

Dennis Friedman retired from Boeing Satellite Systems after a 30-year career in manufacturing. Born in Ohio, Dennis is a California transplant with a bachelor's degree in history and an MBA. A self-described "humble investor," he likes reading historical novels and about personal finance. Follow Dennis on X @DMFrie and check out his earlier articles.

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