Todd Northrop

Paul was one of my all-time best friends. After high school he and I went through a period of being inseparable. He was far more talented than me. He could play things at age 18 that I still can't touch. But no one would have known it. Paul was unassuming, and I was just the opposite. At age 19 he wound up playing rhythm for a great guitar player who was in a band with Bryant (whose talent far exceeded mine as well). It was at that time that he and I began drifting apart. There was, of course, a girl mixed up in that. But we always knew there would be a "Yoko" in our lives. Paul was very intense. In my case, he was also very patient and understanding. He went on to become an attorney. Again, who would have known he was so intelligent and academically gifted? I knew. Paul' s departure from my life 30 years ago left me to grieve what we had and what could have been. His passing reminds me of that lonely time. I have had a secret long-time fantasy of seeing him, showing him my humility from knowing and acknowledging who we both are, jamming, and recalling and making more hilarious moments in which we curled up with stomach pain from uncontrollable laughing. That will now be met with the reality that he is gone. Although we were miles apart, literally and figuratively, my heart never forgot the love we shared as best friends. Paul deserves to be missed by all who knew him.