David G. Foster.... 1/13/24-12/21/02
It's the summer of fifty-one or two, As I recall. I'm home in Springfield, OR.The real home of Homer Simpson. Mowing the front lawn, with the dreaded push mower doing my chores. I hear the sound of a motor blasting down the gravel road in front of the house and look up to see what kind of a rig it might be.
Alright, its a big red scooter, the likes of which I have never seen before, as it blows on by, the pilot throws up a hand and waves, almost losing it on the graveled road, but quickly regains control, flashing me a warm smile. I'm thinking how do I get to know that guy, I need a ride on that bad looking, sounding red rocket.
As he disappears down the road in a cloud of dust, I am hoping he would maybe come by again. The next afternoon I'm sitting on the front porch. Biff and Lance had just left for the McKenzie theater looking for some lovelies. I had to stay an grease the log truck, another of my chores.
The next day I hear the sound of that same motor coming my way, this time I would be ready with a wave back, hoping he my stop this time. As it comes closer I notice that he is slowing down, I stand up as he pulls into the gravel driveway, jumps off and pops down the kickstand, by now my heart is pounding with joy.
I walk over, he holds out his hand and says you must be Ugene, I'm Dave Foster. We shake hands and after all my questions, what's this, what's that and how did you know who I was?
He explained that he new of my family and one of my older sister's at the high school and that he was to be a teacher at the hi school and was living just down the road on twenty-first street, as I remember. I ask for a ride an off we go. It turns out his red rocket was a 1948 Cushman Pacemaker. From then on we were buds until school started up, if he had a chance he would stop on Fridays and have one or two of my moms fresh home made bread buns with butter, he loved them. Dave was the one that turned me on to my Whizzer. He new this guy that had one for sale out on Thurston Road. I walked out and bought it, pushed it 8 miles back home flat tires and all an reinstalled it on my Columbia bike. Now I could ride with Dave, but by the time I got it changed over and running he had bought a car an moved on.
He had moved to a deferent neck of the woods, but I would still see him on occasion. When school started that fall I went to St Francis High in Eugene for my freshmen year, then came back to Springfield High for my sophomore year, where he and I hooked up again and I signed up for his art class. Then went back to St Francis High for the rest.
I know I said in my bio that I hadn't attended any art schools, but there was my association with David, always in the back of my mind, a lasting mentor, his influence always with me.
I hadn't seen Dave until the summer of 2000. I was outside painting my house. Up drives this guy in a little blue car with a white beard much like my own, motions me over, as I get closer he flashed that same warm smile, I knew instantly it was David, just like that day in 1951, I was thrilled all over again. We had a very good day together. We all love you David and will see you soon. bugs
Ugene McCalligan....a friend