After yesterday’s reunion with Tom, a former business colleague, and his friend Jim, I have a new neighborhood mystery to solve. Coincidentally, when they drove into the Islandwalk edition, there was a hint of recognition, and as it turned out, the other person they intended to visit yesterday is a neighbor of ours. Granted, we’re a big edition with about 2500 homes, but nonetheless this was still against all odds. In fact, it developed into a twist of fate, as I discovered that the husband of their high school classmate, Jon, graduated from I.U., worked in Indianapolis for the same radio station as me, and went on to become a market competitor in television sales. All of these folks were in their mid-seventies, so only about 4-years older than me but I didn’t recognize the name. We must have been like passing ships in the ever changing media world, but undoubtedly have a lot of people in common. 

Jon happened to be out of town when we talked to his wife, Jane, their Lafayette Central Catholic classmate, but the home they live in is naturally very similar to ours. They currently also have a second property in Carmel, Indiana, whereas my wife and I  once lived in Zionsville, all of us with Hoosier roots. I’m looking forward to meeting Jon as soon as he gets back in town, because I’m betting that he also once dealt with my media buyer wife. Networking, like this with other people is the best way to make new friends. I’m also curious to know if Jon knows other Hoosiers in the neighborhood. I’m already aware of one that runs the whiskey club, another who worked for an Indianapolis stock brokerage firm, and a former professor who is active in my wife’s bridge club. We tried to organize an Indy 500 watch party last year when other Hoosier friends were in town but couldn’t get a big enough group together. We’ll try again next May. 

Before we stopped by Jon and Jane’s house, Tom, Jim, and I drove down to Englewood for lunch at the Lock & Key. It was one of the few places open after the fury of hurricane Ian. The area is nothing more than a dumping zone for debris and tree limbs that are piled along the side of the beach road. The damage was extensive and Stump Pass State Park was closed to traffic. I once again felt lucky that we settled into a home that wasn’t right on the Gulf, as what once might have been a dream. Sadly, beach-front property in Southwest Florida is now a terrible nightmare!