Ah, Les; we lived a couple of doors apart on Bainbridge Rd. He was my best buddy into our early teens. He stayed in school and studied. I sat in Michaels and drank coffee...Good friend, caring brother and son and one hell of an athlete. Love you buddy, rb
I remember him as being a tall, dark, quiet, and handsome guy. There were a bunch of us that hung out ( Ross knows ) at the corner of Bainbridge Rd.and Taylor for a number of summers in our early teens. Very athletic and could ride a bicycle better than anyone.
Les & I roomed together at Ohio State. He was always testing life and I loved him for it. Tall, dark, and handsome, the girls all flocked to him. He was smart and studied hard, but alas, he also played hard, and that ultimately was part of his downfall. But we had some great times together - playing intramural football - he was good at sports, drinking at the North Berg (Les, remember driving Carl Hoffman to the hospital when he got hit in the nose by a bouncer there?), questioning the Vietnam war and being in the middle of the Ohio State "riots" - getting tear-gassed? going to Kelly's Island and getting lost in the dark while camping? Or to Port Clinton where we stayed up all night and discovered globs of peanut butter on a spoon is very hard to eat! And some sad times - driving to Cleveland to his Dad's funeral. Three hours in the rain in a "dune buggy" with no roof or heat, and which couldn't go faster than about 50mph. And Les - with your orange Porsche was my first auto insurance client/friend. You were an explorer of life, not just tasting it, but biting off huge chunks. You lived fast and left us much too young. I have a picture of you on my file cabinet, waving hello from in front of Gimbel's Department Store in New York from our trip there. You are smiling and happy and full of life. I know wherever you are, you are still that way. Take care, my friend.
Regardless of the cause, when we loose a person those who has played a significant and memorable part of our lives it leaves an empty and permanent hole. Leslie and I met when we were ten. My family had just made our big move (about four blocks) from Berkeley to Blanche and he was the first friendly face in our new neighborhood. My new home was not even 100 feet from Leslies’ so, for years, we spent endless hours playing, getting in trouble and being so very young together. We collected bugs for our eighth grade insect projects in the fields around the old Severence estate. In all, there were four of us including myself, Ross Bushman (CHHS’69), Steve Friedman (CHHS ’70) and Leslie. Summers seemed to last forever and even now, forty five years later, I can just close my eyes and take myself back there. To this day, when I hear the sound of Saccadas buzzing in the summer, I am instantly reminded of those amazing distant times.
I can’t call Les to apologize for not staying in touch or to talk him into attending our 40th as I did stay up late one night during the summer of 1969, talking him into going on to college with me at OSU. I cannot tell him that I’m soon going to be a grandfather or anything else that would be so wonderful to share with him. Worse yet, I’ll never know all about all of those things that he did not share with me and I’m unsatisfied with the notion that we just didn’t have the time. By now, most of us have learned that a dreadful and frustrating part of living is dealing our own missed opportunities and the meaningful things that we can no longer share with the ones who matter.
Ross Bushman
Ah, Les; we lived a couple of doors apart on Bainbridge Rd. He was my best buddy into our early teens. He stayed in school and studied. I sat in Michaels and drank coffee...Good friend, caring brother and son and one hell of an athlete.Love you buddy,
rb
Michael Simon
I remember him as being a tall, dark, quiet, and handsome guy. There were a bunch of us that hung out ( Ross knows ) at the corner of Bainbridge Rd.and Taylor for a number of summers in our early teens. Very athletic and could ride a bicycle better than anyone.Richard Greene
Les & I roomed together at Ohio State. He was always testing life and I loved him for it. Tall, dark, and handsome, the girls all flocked to him. He was smart and studied hard, but alas, he also played hard, and that ultimately was part of his downfall. But we had some great times together - playing intramural football - he was good at sports, drinking at the North Berg (Les, remember driving Carl Hoffman to the hospital when he got hit in the nose by a bouncer there?), questioning the Vietnam war and being in the middle of the Ohio State "riots" - getting tear-gassed? going to Kelly's Island and getting lost in the dark while camping? Or to Port Clinton where we stayed up all night and discovered globs of peanut butter on a spoon is very hard to eat! And some sad times - driving to Cleveland to his Dad's funeral. Three hours in the rain in a "dune buggy" with no roof or heat, and which couldn't go faster than about 50mph. And Les - with your orange Porsche was my first auto insurance client/friend. You were an explorer of life, not just tasting it, but biting off huge chunks. You lived fast and left us much too young. I have a picture of you on my file cabinet, waving hello from in front of Gimbel's Department Store in New York from our trip there. You are smiling and happy and full of life. I know wherever you are, you are still that way. Take care, my friend.Elliot Kirstein
Regardless of the cause, when we loose a person those who has played a significant and memorable part of our lives it leaves an empty and permanent hole. Leslie and I met when we were ten. My family had just made our big move (about four blocks) from Berkeley to Blanche and he was the first friendly face in our new neighborhood. My new home was not even 100 feet from Leslies’ so, for years, we spent endless hours playing, getting in trouble and being so very young together. We collected bugs for our eighth grade insect projects in the fields around the old Severence estate. In all, there were four of us including myself, Ross Bushman (CHHS’69), Steve Friedman (CHHS ’70) and Leslie. Summers seemed to last forever and even now, forty five years later, I can just close my eyes and take myself back there. To this day, when I hear the sound of Saccadas buzzing in the summer, I am instantly reminded of those amazing distant times.I can’t call Les to apologize for not staying in touch or to talk him into attending our 40th as I did stay up late one night during the summer of 1969, talking him into going on to college with me at OSU. I cannot tell him that I’m soon going to be a grandfather or anything else that would be so wonderful to share with him. Worse yet, I’ll never know all about all of those things that he did not share with me and I’m unsatisfied with the notion that we just didn’t have the time. By now, most of us have learned that a dreadful and frustrating part of living is dealing our own missed opportunities and the meaningful things that we can no longer share with the ones who matter.
Les my dear friend, please rest in peace.