Posted by I drove to my parents house this weekend to hand over an anniversary card and gift. I brought my daughter Josie with me so they could all spend some quality time together. While they were playing around in the living room, I went upstairs into my room to see if there was anything I might want to hang on to. In one of my desk drawers, I found an inconspicuous-looking envelope with a letter inside. It was a note from Mr. Miles from 20 years ago.
I don’t think I ever really formally met Mr. Miles. At all of my high school wrestling matches, he would be there though. I think eventually I asked about him to my coach, Mr. Ward. He explained to me that Mr. Miles was a Roxbury Latin alum who had been on the wrestling team. He enjoyed coming to all of the matches with his wife and cheering on the team.
So I would see Mr. Miles and his wife at pretty much every dual meet. Usually they would sit by themselves in the corner somewhere. Mr. Miles was in his 80s, well past retirement age. But he always showed up in very professional looking clothes. And he made his presence felt by cheering loudly for us.
My sophomore year, we went to wrestle at Middlesex Academy. At the time, we had one of the top teams in New England, and Middlesex one of the worst. In fact, they could barely field an entire roster. So they were forced to forfeit various matches, however, they refused to put the points on the scoreboard for their forfeits.
“Put the points on the board!” Mr. Miles would say over and over again.
Eventually, the very frustrated Middlesex coach made a point to stop everything that was going on. He walked over from the opposite side of the gym over to the bleachers. He pointed a finger towards Mr. Miles and raised his voice.
“If you say anything again about the score, we’re going to escort you out of the gym.”
Mr. Miles was quiet. He was embarrassed.
As for the rest of us, we thought that the other coach was a jerk. I think Mr. Ward wanted to say something but he decided to let it go.
For the rest of that season – and for the entirety of my junior year season – we did not see Mr. Miles again. He was noticeably absent from both our home and away dual meets.
In the spring of my junior year, I was elected as a co-Captain of the Varsity Wrestling team for the following season. I remember one day I saw Mr. Ward doing a workout in the gym and I approached him to ask a question.
“Did Mr. Miles die?”
Mr. Ward kind of shrugged at me as if to say, “I don’t think so,” and instead said, “No. I think he’s just embarrassed.”
I thought to myself that there was nothing to be ashamed about for being a supportive fan. Me and Mr. Ward agreed that I would write a letter to Mr. Miles. Mr. Ward provided me with his address, so that is what I did.
I do not have a copy of the letter, but I remember that I introduced myself and explained how much we all enjoyed having him around at our matches. I told him that we would love to have him back if he had the time to come and see us.
A few weeks later, I was surprised to receive a response in the mail. It came on very fancy letterhead and was written quite formally. In the letter, Mr. Miles re-affirmed how much he enjoyed coming to our matches and said that if I would not mind sending him a copy of the schedule, that he would be glad to return.
The following winter, Mr. Miles was a staple at all of our matches once more. He died just a few years later.
Jeff Kirchick 