June 28, 2025
Cal's Celebration of Life
The Burren Backroom, Somerville
Cal. What a cool name. What a cool guy that had that name. And by cool, I mean SMOOTH!
He talked smooth. Walked smooth.
I admired the man, the man with abilities with his hands and brain. Some of the conversations we had were entertaining and informative. He had an ability to make a story funny and serious.
What I’m saying is, an ability to make you feel comfortable, with his chuckles and smiles, while telling any story. He could also do that with advice.
There may or may not have been times when both of us, in an unplanned encounter, happened to be outside the house of a party. We may or may not have enjoyed a sneaky cigarette, hiding from those who wished we weren’t smoking and/or just not smoking in front of others.
Growing up in one of the whitest towns in Mass., I think Cal was the first Black man I knew. And his brother, Hoyt, was the first person I ever saw dunk a basketball in person.
That was so cool, and as a young boy I learned something that still many haven’t grasped. It’s a shame that those people never met Cal when I did.
Years later, and I can’t say for sure who told me, Cal pulled my father aside and asked my Dad at our Walpole home, “What’s up with the confederate flag license plates in this town?” My father explained that the high school mascot was the Rebels. Cal took some relief in that.
At some time, my Fairy Godmother and Cal made the prettiest child, named Rachael. I love the three of them. This love will last forever.
Thank you.