The P.A.

A weekly address from Patrick Adams,
President of St. Louis Community Credit Union

Something I’m Never Going to Forget

On June 9th, 2014, posted in: Uncategorized by


You never know where or when the next great thing in your life is going to happen. I keep my eyes, ears (heck, all my senses) in full-on alert all the time. Lord knows, I don’t want to miss one of these great blessings. They come in all shapes, sizes and happenings, but one thing is for sure – when they occur, you know it. You look inside the moment as it is happening, you peel away all of the peripheral distractions, and suddenly as if there is a lightning strike, your sub-conscious registers a memory like “this is something I’m never going to forget.” In that split second of time your premonition would be right of course.

Usually, my life events occur around some sort of sporting event. Being a sports geek and having a memory cluttered with sports trivia, it is no wonder that Mark McGwire’s 70th home run, or an evening in Chicago’s United Center watching the iconic Michael Jordan dribble his way into basketball immortality are just two of many.

But, this one was different. No sports, no “the thrill of victory” moment. Nope, this one was about best friends for life and an evening of nostalgia. There were the usual signs of what makes for unforgettable: goose-pimpled skin, a few joy-filled tears, lots of happy, and a smile that has yet to be erased. It didn’t start out to be an “Ah-ha” moment, but boy, it sure ended up being one. The fact that it is two weeks later and I still get “chicken skin” when I reminisce is a pretty good sign that this one was big – real big.

I grew up in the late 70s, stuck somewhere between rock and roll and country rock with one foot firmly planted in the world of disco. And there were no better torchbearers of this feel-good, make your feet move musical phenomenon than the Bee Gees. They had song after song and a “Saturday Night Fever” album that owned the charts and the dance floors for what seemed like forever. And now, forty plus years later, I found myself flooded with memories of those happy times all thanks to the only surviving Bee Gee: Barry Gibb.

My mind was a caffeinated raceway full of emotions with every song, every chord and every falsetto struck by this musical genius during his concert. He gave us 28 songs and 2 ½ hours’ worth to ensure that when we all left that night, we’d be emotionally wrung-out. Everybody, including the critics who showered Barry Gibb and his band with praise for a job well-done, left that night with a big piece of our hearts pounding with the beat, yet knowing that this was probably his swan song for such excellence. It was a bittersweet moment overshadowed by pure joy.

For this one glorious night, I sung my heart out, danced, found myself countless times with my arm around the woman I love squeezing her closer and sitting next to my all-time best friends who were busy doing the same thing. The memories of the past rushed in like a flood all evening long. And the memory of the concert – well, let’s just say that it is pressed, folded and sealed in that special place reserved for only the best of times.

They say you can’t go back. But for that one glorious evening, Barry Gibb wasn’t 67 years old. He cast me and my wife and our dearest friends back into a time filled with wonder and expectation for a life yet to come. We’ve since had great lives together, and this very special night is one more reason why. When we look back on it in the years to come, we will smile and glaze over with the feelings that were a part of that very special life event. Fantastic is one of the words that will come to mind – absolutely fantastic.

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