Pandemic helps fuel ‘re-kindled’ relationships

Ever say to yourself, “I’ll do that someday when I have the time?”
But you never have the time, and you never get it done!
Then came the dual game-changer, “Retirement and the Pandemic.” And I had all the time in the world.
Suddenly the excuses were gone.

So I sat down with my computer and typed in my best friend’s name in 1966 when I went to South Dakota State University in Brookings, SD.
I typed, “Doug Harr,” fully knowing there was little or no chance of finding the tall, good-natured, guitar-playing man I’d adopted as my best friend. He was from Monticello, MN, and I came from Cosmos, MN, and our first year as Jackrabbits found us, inseparable friends.
At first, it seemed fruitless. I kept getting some other Doug Harr, a most famous fellow who didn’t look anything like my friend. So I kept trying.
Suddenly, with a click of a switch, there was a familiar face on my computer screen. He was much older, of course, but it was him, no mistake.

Excitement began to well up inside of me. I began to read, “Douglas went on to study at the University of South Dakota, where he obtained his Bachelor of Science in Wildlife Management in 1969 and then his Masters of Science in Wildlife Management in 1971.”
It went on to say Doug became a Department of Natural Resources Wildlife Biologist, a member of the Ornithologists Union, a member and president of the Audubon Society in Iowa, a Christmas Bird Count Coordinator, and a member of several other birding organizations.
As I read about my friend, my excitement level soared. Was there any way I could find him?
My mind raced in anticipation as I glanced to the bottom of the article. There it was, the key to the promised land — two telephone numbers.

Could it be? Would one of these two numbers still be connected to Doug Harr? I decided not to think about it but instead dialed the first number.
No answer.
So I dialed the second one. It rang for a few seconds, then suddenly there was a “Hello” coming from the other end.
My heart began to leap as I tried to calm myself. “Is this Douglas C. Harr?” I tried to say calmly.
“Yes, it is,” said the voice on the other end of the line. “Doug, were you at South Dakota State in 1966, and were you a guitar player in a band?” I asked him.
“Again, the answer was “yes,” as I detected a rise in his voice in anticipation of what he would hear next.
“Doug, this is your old buddy, Byron Higgin. I finally found you.”

The following moments were nothing but glorious for both of us. We reminisced, talked over our lives in the past over 50 years, and discovered each other all over again.

That initial phone call was followed by numerous emails as we re-kindled a friendship that waited over 50 years to be re-discovered.

But wait, that was only the beginning.

The second great discovery was a reversal of the first, with long-lost friends finding me in a very surprising way.
“Hello, this is Duane Noll,” said the caller. As I’d used the past to introduce myself to Doug, this caller used the same on me.
“Were you a student at South Dakota State University in 1966-67?” He asked.
“Why, yes, I was.”
“Are you the Byron Higgin who was the manager of a band called “Colour” back in those days?” he asked.
“Yes, I was,” came the concise answer.
“This is Duane Noll. I was the lead singer in Colour,” he said.
Just as I’d surprised Doug, Duane surprised me.
“What? How did you find me,” I managed to ask.
“Not everybody in the band remembered your last name, but they all remembered you. So I looked you up in the SDSU annuals and made a few phone calls, used Facebook, and finally got your phone number,” came the somewhat complicated answer.
Finding me was a great surprise, but Duane wasn’t finished. “The band is back together again,” Duane said.
I nearly dropped the phone. “You’re, you’re playing again?” I said.
“Yeah, we cut a CD and are going to do another one,” he said.
Now I was reeling.
That same day the boys in the band were having a Zoom meeting, so they invited me. I was nervous at first and waited patiently for all of them to come on.
“I couldn’t think of what to say but laughed, “You all looked the same.”

That brought a huge, “Yeah, right!”
After the initial Zoom session with two Bills, Duane and Gayland (Steve was missing), we began emailing each other, trading photos, and soon I was writing a story about my old — and now — new friends.All of us are veterans, and several were in Vietnam, giving us a lot to talk about.
I remember those days in 1966 well. It was a time when rock and Roll music massaged the hearts and souls of young men everywhere.
We all came from different places, mostly small towns — and eventually, we found each other.

I wandered into the Methodist Center on South Dakota State’s campus in Brookings in 1966 and heard Rock and Roll music emanating from the center.
It was long after I met the five guys making the sounds I’d signed on as their agent, promising to book “gigs” for the band they called “Colour.”
I’d called my new company Boom Productions, and I had no experience and only a shortlist of potential outlets to book my new client.
The truth was, I roomed with Dale Gregory of “Dale Gregory and the Shouters” of Sioux Falls, and he reluctantly allowed me a shortlist of clients from his valuable “booking book.” The nefarious truth is, I wrote down some of the names when he wasn’t looking.

Over 50 years later, one of the original members of Colour, Bill Britton, still has a list of all the “gigs” Colour performed in those days.
“Let’s see. We played at Shorty’s in Sioux Falls for $65. Our expenses were $10, so I suppose that was your commission?” he told me. “Yeah,” I said.
Just the same, we had a successful run, and I used Boom Productions to help me pay my way through college.
Now, all those years later, the boys of Colour are back, recording their music, enjoying their friendship, and now they’ve included me.Wanting to print a biography of their journey from students at SDSU through their personal journeys and to reforming the band, the boys of Colour are using a story I wrote about them.
We’re having Zoom meetings and, Pandemic notwithstanding, they’ll record this spring or summer again. And I’ve been invited to be a part of it.

You might be wondering how they came about naming their band, “Colour.”
It was somewhat of a takeoff on Walt Disney’s logo, “The Wonderful World of Color.”
When the band adopted their name, they used the logo, “The Wonderful Sound of Colour.”
Back in the ’60s, it was a popular way to go.
The irony of it all was that while the band was named Colour, their poster was black and white.

Today, over 50 years after I first met this band of “colorful” characters, Steve Highby from small-town Revere, MN; Bill Britton from Winner, SD; Gayland Bender from Menno, SD; Bill Staebell from Humboldt, SD and Duane Noll from Sioux Falls, SD, we are back together again.

As I look back on the past few weeks when I found my friend Doug Harr, then the boys of Colour, I’ve got to give the Pandemic some credit for creating the time to restore long-lost relationships.

So now we’re wondering, are there other stories out there fueled by the Pandemic that we could publish on The WE ARE Network?
If so, drop us a note (bob@thethewearenetwork.com). If you need help, we’ll swing into action and help you tell your story.

Life can be incredible and exciting, even in the time of a Pandemic. You might say, life can still be … “Colorful.”