Page 183 - People & Places In Time

Interior Dimensions
from retail suppliers but what I desired most were the local artists such as Rollin Pickford, B. J. McCoon, Darwin Musslemen and Patty Handly, all prominent and successful. I felt that displaying these artists original work on my walls was an important part of my concept of quality for a showroom and gallery.
I succeeded in being recognized as a gallery as much as a retail furniture showroom.
One day a man came into the store, his name, Phillip Lorenz. He was newly arrived from New York City; hired as professor of concert piano at Fresno State. He fell in love with the store, saying how much it reminded him of from where he had come. In time he became a good friend that I saw often until his passing while far too young. Philip came into the store one day wondering if I would be interested in him using my store as a venue for a piano concert se- ries he was planning. Flattered as I was it was just not practical. Forty years later the Philip Lorenz concert series remains a fixture in Fresno, at Fresno State.
I hired Becky Struble as a designer shortly after opening. Becky had
only recently graduated from the Interior Design program at Fresno State. She was pretty and smart and was highly recommended by the head of the interior design department at Fresno State, she was also an acquaintence of mine. Becky was an old friend whom I had known for years growing up in Visalia. She was also ambitious, and I did harbor some concerns. Little did I realize that my prob- lems lay elsewhere and soon enough, it arrived from an unexpected source.
Mary Andrews was a former partner at DWII in Fig Garden Village shopping center, specializing in designer home goods. Mary’s husband was the attorney for Saint Agnus Hospital where my wife was working in public rela- tions, and they were acquainted. I wanted Mary’s experience to expand the home goods side of Interior Dimensions; it all seemed to fit well, and I hired her to help further the lifestyle concept.
An overnight buying trip to San Francisco with Mary was all it took to bring a quick end to my marriage to Holly and soon enough Fred, Mary and
Following our talk, I was never to see him again, left only to read his obituary a few years later. Perhaps he had forgiven me, but that’s not what I want. I would give a great deal to see him once again and tell him how much he meant to me, though I can never undo the disappointment I brought to his life. I even lost the piece from his plane. Ironically there is a part of Fresno that he had developed, it’s a place that I drive through from time to time with a street named for him . . . . I always notice that street sign . . . Vartician Ave.
A lady who bore the brunt of my foolishness remained steadfast throughout her lifetime as my biggest supporter. Mary Pagel-Rabe gave me the greatest opportunity of my life. Not only did I let her down, I let myself down. I gave her the son she had lost only to leave her wonting. She gave me a dream and I dashed it. It was a sad day when I learned of her death only too late to attend her funeral and the final chance to tell her of my love and respect . . . though I do know that she knew. While my wife and I were attending a Bulldog football game, we happened, while in the alumni tailgate party, to run into Fred and Mary. When I introduced Mary to my wife; Jackie’s comment to her was “oh, you’re the one he loves so much” . . . she knew.
The other day Jim Heaton dropped some photographs by the house that were taken some forty-five years before. Of course, there is the obvious; that we were young, our hair wasn’t a wistful grey and the broad shoulders with narrow waist offered only a vague image of what would follow. The photos were of myself with Jim and John Keyes ordering our tuxedos for my upcoming wedding with Holly. Still, the photos were non-descript, nothing of significance, except that our lives were different in 1972. Life was simpler, our burden light. Looking at me with Jim and John should produce little more than nostalgic sen- timent, perhaps a chuckle at how we’ve matured in succeeding years.
Later in a quiet moment, I looked again the pictures, and the irony of my life crept in; these are the thoughts that haunt me. I know only too well that these thoughts are best buried and left behind . . . not so easy to do. We were twenty-six and not so innocent; never the less our lives held such promise for love and success in future pursuits. I do understand what happened. I’m not the man today who charted my life course back then, but I am now the product of those impetuous decisions. The lost opportunities remain a heavy burden, born throughout my life. Thoughts on the intervening years since the day of these photos hurt beyond measure. My personal heartache does not describe the disappointment felt toward so many who traveled my path for a time now they are gone from my life.
I can never forget the opportunities placed before me, the people who encouraged me, the same people whose promise I broke. Those giving me op- portunities that I failed to fulfill.
Holly would buy out my ownership in Interior Dimensions Incorporated was all over so quickly.
It ended so quickly
it
When so many have believed in you and trusted you to succeed and indeed invested their lives in you to have let them down becomes nearly an unbearable burden. Onik Vartician advised and mentored me and yet when
I think of him, I see him so clearly walking through the doorway of my store. He approached to ask if we could take a walk; he wanted to talk to me. Never mind that we had a business relationship, his purpose was heart felt and sincere. Onik’s advice was correct, but I couldn’t see beyond my own short sided de- sires. He had at some point given me the painted canvas graphic from the wing of his antique bi-plane after it was recovered.
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